Date: 10/13/09 From: wsparrow@vengencedemons.org To: mayor.aeshma@sangsacre.gov Subject: Great Blog!

It's great that you have started a blog. When you are ready to spiffy it up a bit, please consider including some music. Sing-along Blogs are so fashionable, and hey, even if you don't happen to be the best singer in this dimension, it can still inspire even more fear. cf. The Evil League of Evil, specifically Dr. Horrible.

P.S. If you are in the market for a new chef, I know a guy who knows a guy, so let me know.

Summoning Success
Aeshma
10/14/2009

After reading Aeshma's first blog post, Aeshma has decided it will be easier to read if Aeshma refers to himself in first person. All will still learn to fear my name11

I have put my plans to make the city tremble in motion. While it may appear I have made a summoning mistake, my new minion says I should say fail instead of mistake to scare a younger demongraphic, While it may appear I have made a summoning fail, the horde of Unicorns I have summoned to roam the city is part of Aeshma's greater plan. Aeshma does not fail1 Aeshma planned to summon the Unicorns instead of a host of demons, rest assured, no not rest, tremble assured.

There is some discordant feedback emanating from the general direction of Dogtown. It turns out that big concrete structure where most of Grooveyard was living was not in fact concrete, but actually fondant. And the recent, err, Candyland detonation seems to have taken it out as well.

The gaggle of unicorns that's turned up randomly seem to like the taste of the rubble, though, so that's probably well sorted. And the band's back out of cryogenic storage again (all except the drummer who, it seems, was made entirely of candyfloss) although the instruments are a bit sticky. Oh, and the granite pedastals to bedrock for the monitors are still solid as anything. Guess that's where we'll rebuild.

We'll start with a small strawbale structure that will eventually be the control room for the new studio. But in the meanwhile, it'll house the band while they work out what they're doing next, figure out a genre. The autumn sun's rays filter softly through the ruin.

Ah, here it is. The trusty old sign. We prop it out front. Grooveyard's in the market for another drummer.

I put down the paper after reading about Unicorn problem, the sheer number of rainbows has been slowing down traffic. Even if his last plot didn't really work out, I can't shake the feeling that Aeshma is up to something.

"Hans," I say to my lab assistant, "I know what we're going to do today."

"What's that boss?"

"I have a plan to keep Aeshma under control. We'll recruit a secret agent, perhaps an Ocelot, give him an awesome secret agent hat and call him "Agent O". We give him some high tech equipment and have him hound Aeshma's every move."

"Uh..." Hans looks up at the ceiling briefly. "Are you sure that's an original idea?"

"Yes. Yes I am."

"Hello? Is anyone here?"

"Just me."

"Just you? What happened to everyone?"

"They all moved away."

"Everyone? But this is Sang Sacré! Why would anyone want to leave?"

"You know how it is. Real world issues. Family commitments. The economy. The housing bubble hit Sang Sacré pretty hard. One by one, they all left."

"And now it's just you?"

"Just me."

Sniff sniff. I came in here a few weeks ago, but I just couldn't think of anything, I'm sorry.

I come here from time to time, but I never comprehend.

Laga, did you ever go back and read the thread from the very start, preferably in one sitting? It's, well, I think it is Buffista Island, if it could actually inhabit the Buffyverse, with some other fantasy-verses bleeding through now and then.

ETA: There is even more backstory to it than I realized. I think I only read "origin" thread as linked in the header, then went to the start of this thread, but there is a zip file of previous threads. And re-reading the origin, is making me weep because we are still living scattered across the globe rather than close and snug together as we should be.

There's a challenge. I now intend to go back to the beginning and also read other threads. When I next have a day when I need to lie down for ten hours!

There is a sort of rumbling sound with intermittent gunfire coming down the road. Oh, no, not gunfire, it's just the tour bus backfiring. Grooveyard is home!

As the various band members fall out of the bus and stumble in sundry directions, (and isn't that a different drummer than the one they left with?) a quick inquiry reveals that someone (some *unspecified* one) thought that if modifying the diesel engine to use biofuel was good, modifying it to use octarine was better. And it turns out that making a tour bus run on magical particles surprisingly has the effect of making it, well, unstable through time. Thus extending the tour run rather further than expected.

On the plus side, there are some really nice vintage wines that are going to be available at Milo's shortly. And there are a few muttered apologies; apparently the shoulder pads trend in the eighties is the fault of someone on the bus. Details do not seem to be forthcoming, something to do with Taylor Kitsch wearing nothing but hockey pads.

Anyway, the band is back! And it seems that since the population is low upon their return, the only possible thing to do is to play. Play, and see if they come.

So the band will take a little time to get clean, in more ways than one, and then there will be a concert under the stars. A come home concert.