Adagio flopped onto her bed. It hadn’t been a full day since Aria started talking with those damned Six. She and Sonata had gone out for the night. They hadn’t said where, but it was no secret. They were hanging out with those damned Rainbooms. Probably were sleeping over, given how late it was. She lazily rolled her head to the side. Just about midnight. She let out some strange cross between a grunt and a sigh.
Not even a day. It hadn’t taken a full day for Aria to abandon her. By the songs, the three had been together long since before recorded history, countless millennia, and before a month was over, the two had left her. Left her over one failure. Left her for the very people that ruined them all. Had they been friends? Far from it. But surely, assuredly there had been something, some sense of kinship that had bound them together? Clearly not.
She grimaced. Those two didn’t know how good they had it. Sonata was a ditz, a klutz; she couldn’t understand the magnitude of what happened if she tried. Aria was always second fiddle to her, needed her to actually come up with the schemes that had kept the three alive. They could blame her, point to her as the cause of their troubles. They could leave her, leave whatever parts of their identity they didn’t like with her.
She couldn’t run. Couldn’t run from her failures, her mistakes. She could never un-see how close they had been. Her fists clenched, her nails dug into her palms. Her masterpiece had but one stain, one tarnish. That one smear had consumed it all. Her great failure hung in front of her, dangled, on a loop of rope, hanging from the ceiling. It dared her to chase it, to try to grab it. In her heart, she smells embers and sparks.
She lay there. There was nothing to be done. So she sung. Because that will always be what sirens do.
She sung the old songs. The songs of hate, of malice. The songs of a time long since forgotten. She sung them perfectly. An eternal flame crackles. She had sung these songs before she was born into the world. They could not be taken from her. She would not, could not let go of them. The song rang perfectly in her mind. The same song rang hollow in her ears. The same song wreaked havoc on her throat. She tried to lie to herself, as she had lied to many others with her voice. But her voice betrayed her. And through it all, she sung.
Her thoughts turned to the Rainbooms. That damned band had taken everything from her. She hated them. Hate was too good for them; it implied that her dislike was merely emotional. No, her distaste ran deeper than her own soul, the soul they had torn from her and dared to shatter before her own eyes. She knew this song by now. She had sung it countless times since that day. That flame was now a fire, burning deep inside her, begging for fuel. And through it all, she sung.
Why had she come? If that princess hadn’t come, they would have been powerless to stop them, stop her. She hated her. Why had she even made the band in the first place? She shot up, slammed her fists into the bed. She quivered, eyes slammed shut, a cry, a roar of rage now weaved into her song. Stupid rainbow girl’s ego should have destroyed that band anyway. She hated her. And why had she even been let into the band? Not six months ago she had torn the school asunder, emotionally and physically, she hated her. Somehow she could still sing, sing faster, harder. That fire was now a blaze that consumed the room, consumed her as she yet stoked it more, threw more wood on that fire. And she thought she was all that, thought she could make it without her and she had stage fright, should never have been able to stand, and she had been wearing headphones, who wears headphones all the time and and she hated her had no fashion sense and he was just a dumb dog and and and she had almost given everything away she hated her and and and –
…
Silence.
She fell to her bed, slammed into it. She smothered her own flame as she fell. Her breathing could not slow. But she was tired, so tired. She couldn’t be angry, not anymore. Her song faded in between the gasps and exhales. Her eyelids drooped, but did not close. With each breath went out more of her energy, her rage. Could she not have rest? Could she not see the end of her suffering? She had lost her voice, her strength… her… her… friends. Everything. Gone. Because of them.
She opened her eyes. She saw her way out. It hung from the ceiling. She swatted at it lazily, watched it swing back and forth. Swing like a pendulum. Like a metronome, the faintest woosh keeping time. It beckoned to her, to give her sleep, the sleep she so desperately craved now. She saw the knives in the kitchen, saw the painkillers in the cabinet, faint images floating above her bed. There were not even embers now. She tried to sing, for what, she did not even know, but nothing would come.
In the morning, she would go to school. She would walk the halls of that cursed school. She would feel the angry stares of the classmates she once had wrapped around her finger. She would grab her food. She would see, at the far table, Sonata and Aria with them. She would sigh, and take her place at the edge of the table, next to Sonata. They would barely glance at her. Sonata and Aria would spare a few words in her direction. She would come home alone. She would go into her room. There would be nothing hanging from the ceiling.
But for now, she closes her eyes and lets out one last sigh. And she will sing no more.
The question of course, is what will Adagio do with the rage and the resignation that you so artfully expressed? Well done, my friend. I truly enjoyed this darker chapter.
This whole set is very moving, and the style in which it's presented adds a lot to the mood. Just phenomenal, imo.
I was actually thinking while driving yesterday about how you might handle Adagio - and the "thoughts of ending her life" approach is one thing that came to mind almost right away with my take on her personality and drive, so it's really interesting to see a notion of that here.
I get the feeling that these are just the beginning in something more? Or was the intent for them to be one-shots leaving things open to imagination? The last sentence in the final full paragraph on this one (with the word "ceiling in it, to avoid spoiling anything down here) leaves me not entirely sure of what the implication is - but perhaps that's just me.
And on another note, your Aria story here inspirited me to write some poetic style text to go along with the art piece I'm working on the moment. When I do get it up on dA, I'll be sure to include a link to these. ;)
5219002 Oh dear. "Moving," "phenomenal," and I inspired you to write something of your own? What is the world coming to?
The story in its conception was only going to be a collection of connected one-shots. The next one was supposed to be the last one, in part because I didn't think I was gonna write more (and I'm running out of phases of the night). That said, I did think up a few more shorts connected to this, and a longer narrative, although whether that will be presented in short or story form is something I haven't decided yet.
There is certainly some ambiguity I left with that thread of the story, although I'm not sure if "my" ambiguity is the same as "yours," but there's nothing necessarily wrong with them being different.
5219116 To follow up, I finished the art piece tonight. Should have gone to bed a few hours ago, but was in the stride.
http://fav.me/d854cpo
It's more of a sad and broken Aria than yours here (hence the title), but again, the flow of the poetic bits in the description was sort of inspired by the writing style in these.
Cheers. ;)
Oh wow. I had thought the parallel structure in the previous chapters to be merely cute. But now? The parallel structure is pretty awesome. It really set up nicely for this chapter, and the sheer emotion expressed by Adagio.
This was pretty fantastic. Great stuff.
5222520 So we've gone from "weird" to "still pretty weird" to "pretty fantastic." I'll take it.
Although, weird? Really? Look, I know revelation by taco duckling sailor isn't commonplace, but, come on....
I love parallels and patterns, perhaps to a fault. That said, if you had settled for "cute," let alone "pretty awesome," I would have taken it.
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I loved Sonata's chapter. Playing the adorable innocent, I don't think she ever quite realized what she was doing was wrong. Adagio and Aria did it, so why shouldn't she? Also not surprised that they would attack her first after the loss, it's not like the poor girl has anything to protect herself with. She would be broken, driven off by the attacks of her former friends. Aria's teasing, she could take. Not both her and Adagio at once.
At first she would be alone. But everypony knows she has a pink-haired kindred heart. And now that she can find real friends, perhaps her happy, innocent heart can blossom and grow.
Aria I'm not too sure about. We get very little about her character in the movie, aside from the fact she respects no authority and considers other beneath her. Still, the rebellion that defines her would eventually tear her away from Adagio. I hadn't realized this, but without Sonata to attack and put down, Aria has nothing to do, and no one to feel superior to. She isn't the brightest, and need Adagio to plan in the past. Now she doesn't.
Still, Aria is very aggressive and mean, so I couldn't see her hanging out with the Mane 6 anytime soon. (Even Sonata is a stretch, only Pinkie could realistically see her innocence and purity) I don't know what that girl would do on her own, but it probably isn't anything good.
The one thing that's come to my mind as I watch Adagio Dazzle is Controlling. Quite ironic, given that sirens do mind control. Everything about this girl, her band, and her motives revolve around control. She dictates when Sonata and Aria are allowed to laugh. (She cuts them off at certain points, with a flick of her hands) She uses her charm and cunning to break apart others and use them to her own designs, even without singing, she could make the other bands attack the Rainbooms. Beyound that, she is a siren, and controlling this world is her ultimate goal. One she will now never achieve.
I don't think Adagio would ever tolerate Sonata running off to Pinkie and the Mane 6. Sonata is one of the two things she has power over, someone like Adagio would never let that go, ever. Even though she can't sing, Adagio can still scheme, plan, and undercut at just the right place to influence others. She would undermine Sonata's confidence in trusting their sworn enemies, fill her somewhat gullible mind with horrors of being absolutly alone, without anyone at all in the world.
Come to think of it, that would make a great story. Sonata's eventual escape from the ones who control and hurt her. But I'm off topic.
I kind of agree that Adagio would rather die than lose control, now that I really think of it. Just not sure if she would ever lose so much that she lost all hope. Something to think about.
Amazing little story, my hat is off.
5223154 There certainly are many dimensions to the Sirens that we don't see, and it's open to a plurality of interpretations. My interpretation certainly suggests a set of more emotionally vulnerable Sirens, in part, perhaps, because I didn't want to make them too villainous in this story, and it's pretty hard to make them angry, bitter, and controlling without being too villainous.
On the other hand, I didn't want this to be too much of a redemption story, and I'll confess I'm not sure I succeeded in that regard. It's not easy, having the Sirens move towards a happier, deeper understanding of who they are without necessarily making that a heroic change in perspective. I tried to give them drive without purpose, so to speak. It probably didn't help that I accelerated the interaction between the HuMane Five and Sunset. Looking where I plan on going, for better or worse, I probably will end up writing a redemption story.
Thank you for the thoughts and kind words.
Oh, wow.
Dear God this is depressing I just want to find all three of them and give them a hug. because hugs make everything better