344; Theatrical Muse, Have you ever sold out?
Sold out? They say that about everyone in show business. The answer is always about the same and it never satisfies them. I heard it again a few days back.
Sometimes the dimensional portals miss-route; I aim to take the Gig Team to a Hellmouth or something and we come out in a Viking encampment or King Henry the Eighth’s palace. I hate it when that happens. So far I’ve always got most of us home safely, but there are stories about Operatives that didn’t…
Anyway, I thought it had happened again, last week. We’d arrived in an empty hall with a stage set for the dark ages. The Minions were just sealing the portal when we heard voices.
When I smoked off to check I found a bunch of humans in a side-room in the craziest mixture of costumes. They were leaning over a table and I thought they were setting up a sacrifice until I saw the leader throwing some kind of crazy dice; then a skinny guy started arguing with him and headed for the door.
When he opened it and found he was looking straight at a Minion he said,
“Do we see this?”
Okay, so I cast the mojo to find out what the hell was going on and the leader started singing,
“Here we do not contend that life's not role-play.
The world's a stage and there we play our parts
Our lines are writ by fate, until our endings
and we play on with all our wit and art.
Thy hit points may be low, with poor charisma,
Or thou couldst play a hero in his might
A sage, a mage, a beauty or a slattern,
a rising star or one in pitiable plight,
But life's a show and all are merely players,
We may think ourselves mind, or heart or soul,
But when we take our curtain calls and leave it,
our world remembers how we played our role...”
Yeah, Humans are odd, but they make sense, sometimes. That’ll do for the answer.
Muse, Sweet the Singing Demon,
Fandom, BTVS,
Words, 338.
Sometimes the dimensional portals miss-route; I aim to take the Gig Team to a Hellmouth or something and we come out in a Viking encampment or King Henry the Eighth’s palace. I hate it when that happens. So far I’ve always got most of us home safely, but there are stories about Operatives that didn’t…
Anyway, I thought it had happened again, last week. We’d arrived in an empty hall with a stage set for the dark ages. The Minions were just sealing the portal when we heard voices.
When I smoked off to check I found a bunch of humans in a side-room in the craziest mixture of costumes. They were leaning over a table and I thought they were setting up a sacrifice until I saw the leader throwing some kind of crazy dice; then a skinny guy started arguing with him and headed for the door.
When he opened it and found he was looking straight at a Minion he said,
“Do we see this?”
Okay, so I cast the mojo to find out what the hell was going on and the leader started singing,
“Here we do not contend that life's not role-play.
The world's a stage and there we play our parts
Our lines are writ by fate, until our endings
and we play on with all our wit and art.
Thy hit points may be low, with poor charisma,
Or thou couldst play a hero in his might
A sage, a mage, a beauty or a slattern,
a rising star or one in pitiable plight,
But life's a show and all are merely players,
We may think ourselves mind, or heart or soul,
But when we take our curtain calls and leave it,
our world remembers how we played our role...”
Yeah, Humans are odd, but they make sense, sometimes. That’ll do for the answer.
Muse, Sweet the Singing Demon,
Fandom, BTVS,
Words, 338.