Sunrise
Sonata stood. Aria crossed her arms. Adagio leaned her head back into her hands. It had been days since the sirens’ impromptu party. The whole school had assembled for some ridiculous sunrise watching. It seemed like an incredibly contrived school spirit event. Aria had been more than happy to express her distaste at being here. Thought the pink-haired girl was probably behind this. Didn’t help that Sonata had insisted, dragged them to the front of the damn thing.
Still, they were here. Not that much of the student body paid them much mind. If they were, they were doing a good job of hiding it. Not even associating with the six had salvaged their reputation, and it was mostly Sonata doing the associating. They still got shifty looks in the hallways, nasty words behind their backs, unpleasant comments to their faces.
Sonata started hopping, near jumping in excitement. At what, her companions couldn’t tell. They’d accepted Sonata was a little out of it long before that day, but she had only gotten more unpredictable, as if that had been possible. They could only shake their heads and smile as she started twirling.
How could she not? She saw beauty everywhere, in the most unlikely of places, ever since her mind was uncluttered from plans of world domination and hypnotic singing. She knew only one way to express that beauty. So she did. And she sung.
It started as a spark. A spark that blew into a flame. A flame that dispersed into cosmic dust. And somewhere in that cosmic dust, a star was born.
Aria tensed. Adagio caught her breath. They felt every last person behind them bristle, back away in wariness. Their lost powers didn’t translate into lost memories of the afflicted. Their eyes shot back to Sonata. Assuredly the sunset wasn’t this important to her?
Her mind’s eye stared at that lone star. Even she was a little confused. Why had she been drawn to that ball of fire? Her vision expanded; she now saw not one but countless stars. And suddenly, she understood.
Aria now dared turn around, dared face the crowd. Before her stood a crowd, judging her, picking her apart. The light of dawn slowly cast her shadow over them. She could not, would never understand what Sonata had seen. But somewhere, Sonata had seen a song, and Aria would be damned if she would be left behind. She would not. And she sung.
She had dreamed this dream before. Even in harsh reality, the shimmers of fantasy swam in her eyes. She had not failed in her dreams. It had crossed her mind once, to be put out, never to be seen about. She took Sonata’s tune, built upon it, decorated it. She grasped Sonata’s vision, and by sheer force of will and song made it reality before her.
Adagio cursed her companions. What part of letting this blow over had they not understood? The incompetent – had they no foresight? Her eyes cast over the crowd. She saw intent in their eyes. She made out a distinct six rushing forward. Her mind cast back to her ceiling. Those two were going to be the death of them all. She had seen how the path they were on ended.
She was just going to have to lead them down a different path. She knew only one way was going to work. She stepped up. And she sung.
She felt the tugs of Sonata’s and Aria’s songs. They were hardly new sensations. But here she took them in. She guided them, pulled them together. She took Aria’s song and lifted it. She held Aria’s reality and molded it. She burned it, refined it. Aria took her reality back, rebuilt in, built it better. Adagio took Aria’s reality, and by mind and heart shared it with the world.
They hadn’t tried. All they had done was step in with their own song. But they fell into place, each part a piece of a puzzle.
Realization burst in Adagio. Sonata had not been singing about the sunset.
Sonata was the spark. The reason they had to keep singing. Their connection to a vision only she could see. But vision is meaningless without action. Aria was the fire. The push they needed to keep fighting. A movement that could not be ignored. But movement is meaningless without purpose. Adagio was the wind. The guidance they needed to keep living. The touch that could blow them on or cool them down. But purpose cannot exist… without vision.
Sonata gave them foundation. Aria gave them momentum. Adagio gave them direction. They were the Sirens. And they sung.
Sonata turned around. It suddenly dawned on her that she had been singing in front of a crowd. She faltered. She stumbled backwards. Her voice stopped, her mouth hung open. Aria saw her, vocally caught her, pushed them both forward. And Sonata found her voice again. Aria kept singing, singing higher and higher. Suddenly, she found herself alone, out of harmony with her companions. She stood, frozen. Adagio heard her, lyrically nudged her, pulled her back. And Aria found her song again. Adagio led the song. Within an instant, her mind went blank. Her mind’s eye could only see darkness. She stepped forward. Her foot landed on air. She fell forward. Sonata felt her, shared her revelations with her, showed her solid ground. And Adagio found her life again.
They closed their eyes, and fell into the song. Their voices rose as one. They raised their hands, lifted up something, some vague concept. Behind them, the sun rose.
Their song ended. They looked out into the assembly before them. Silence. Uncertain eyes. Nervous cast-about glances. Adagio let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. At least they weren’t trying to –
One clap. One set of hands clapping. Now two, no, three. Now it was seven. Eighteen. Twenty five. Whistles. Cheers. Applause. It took Sonata a while to realize they were applauding for them. She grabbed the two, pulled them in for a hug, went on about how they didn’t need any magic. Aria managed to be more dignified amidst Sonata’s for-realzies and waves to the crowd, but she loved it all the same. Adagio let out a chuckle.
Someone called, chanted for an encore. Adagio’s eyes widened. She cast her eyes about for that voice. She saw. She nearly gasped.
Now two calls. Three more. Another eight. A crowd. She looked back. She caught a wink.
Adagio felt two pairs of eyes look at her. She smiled against the backdrop of the rising sun.
Tomorrow morning, the sirens will wake up. They will go to school. Sonata will hum a little diddly. The three will break apart at the intersection. They will sit down in their respective classes. Aria will stand in front of the class, give a presentation on cell division. They will meet for lunch. They will find themselves sitting with a particular group of six. They will go home. Adagio will do her homework. Someday, Sonata will open a blank document. Aria will stand on a stage. Adagio will find herself looking at a poster for a Spring Fling.
But for now, they sing about a sunrise. And they remember what it is to be a siren.
And there it lies.
If you're curious, the person who calls for the encore was you all along! 
On a more serious note, I had several ideas who it could be, but decided to leave it as an exercise for the readers.
In the end, I ended up writing a redemption story. I'm a little sad, but I'm pretty happy with where the story led me. I have vague plans for possibly writing a prose companion/sequel to this piece, but none coming down the pipe too soon.
On a relatively unrelated note, I really should look into getting artwork for this....
Well, I hope you enjoyed this exercise in descriptive writing of mine. Perhaps I shall try another story in this style, perhaps not. But with some luck, I am not done with writing about this universe, not yet.
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This was absolutely fantastic. The style was so unique, so powerful...
This was an absolute pleasure to read.
That's... Beautiful!
*sniff* Amazing.
To me, this is where it all snapped into place in my brain.
I enjoyed your story quite a bit. Thank you very much! It challenged me... the narration style was different from what I'm used to and it forced me to pay attention closely, read things over, and most of all go slowly and visualize what was happening. I look forward to your next idea!
5259584
Excellent! That means I have a future in writing works that will be studied in educational institutions many years after I leave this side of eternity!
So at the moment I am of the habit of putting some priority on reading things in the aftermath of Rainbow Rocks. There seems to be quite a bit of material being churned out, and it seems I am not alone in having been inspired by the movie, or by the Dazzlings in particular. The volume of material of course means that despite my high interest in the subject, a lot of new stories are being condemned to the "read later" pile, to possibly never actually be seen. While this particular story was on my pile, something I intended to someday get to, you can thank "The Last Roundup" for getting it off the pile and actually read.
The good.
First off, this story is... something. It obviously inspired me to write this review. The incredibly short version of the story is that in the aftermath of the Battle of the Bands finale, the Sirens are adjusting to their new lives, grieving over the loss of their identity as singers, and getting through the process to continue living and embrace their new lives. This bit of story is a very popular one to write about, as the movie leaves us begging to know just what happens to these three after they step into our minds on screen with so much charisma and moxie it is ridiculous. In that regard, this particular telling of that tale is fairly acceptable. It has some conflict between the three, but it is handled in a much more believable fashion than I typically see in this story as told by others. Also, the human 6 are not treated as mindless fix-its, with one or more sirens fleeing her comrades to be insta-redeemed simply by having lunch with the Rainbooms a few times.
That the story lets us get past that conflict and on to their reforging themselves is a strong point of this telling. Rather than give up singing, they each find or refind their connection to song, get past the anger of no longer being good at it, and just fight to do what singing is about: expression. In the end, they not only find that, but re-find what they are to each other, and what it is that makes them such a solid trio.
While at this point not especially original, what the story is about is good. It is a better version that I typically see where one of the sirens, usually Sonata, is exiled by the other two and so on. You're avoiding most of the pitfalls of this story that others tend to fall into, with mixed results. You have a good foundation.
Characterization is another strong point of the story. You've given us a fairly intense look at not just one, but all three of the sirens, and you've managed to expand on their canon slice of the picture and fleshed them out just a bit more, and in a direction each that is easy to accept and entertaining to explore. That said, it does feel like Sonata and Aria get a bit more of the treatment, while Adagio is sort of... there. Not entirely ignored, but her character feels dangerously close to "afterthought" territory.
On to the technical stuff. In other words... no, not the bad, the ugly. Oh boy.
While this is a quote from your author note from "Midnight," it really applies to the whole story. It is also horrendously wrong. There was no choice between style and grammar, there was simply a blatant lack of understanding of grammar. I'm honestly baffled by the comments I see others have made praising the style of this telling, because I frankly do not see what style choice or value was gained from things like flopping from tense to tense like a fish on land, unpredictable shifts in POV, and even shifts between third limited and third omniscient. Hell, you even go to future tense for no apparent reason at one point.
These are not style choices. You are not some talented writer deciding to purposefully break the rules of grammar for the sake of expressing something artistic. What you have accomplished is taking the readability of this pieces and swilling it around in the toilet. While someone like ConningOffier there expresses the result as a compliment, claiming to have been "challenged" the results are a good example of why this was badly written. You force someone to reread something and interpret what the hell it is they are looking at. The point of style and grammar is to immerse your reader, to convey your imagery as easily and cleanly as possible.
In addition to that, we also have incredibly problematic pacing. We're given at most a single short scene per chapter. It certainly feels a lot longer than it really is, because we're forced to spend so much time rereading any given part to figure out what has been said. If the grammar problems were all cleaned up so the story actually flows freely, we'd run into the problem that we'd be at the end in no time flat.
Inparticular, an example of such a pacing problem: the meeting between Sonata and Pinkie. This is a major part of the story. It is pivotal. This is a scene that sets the entire rest of the story. But rather than telling us the story about how it went through, we're merely told it happened.
In Aria's chapter, she too has something resembling a change of heart. I detected some sort of mention that she'd like to be rivals with Rainbow Dash. While that is an interesting prospect, we're left wondering because it is sort of tacked on, and nothing comes of it ever again.
You give us a chapter for Adagio, where she is contemplating suicide and several choices in how to perform it. This could be a powerful piece of story, but as with everything else, we're rushed through it, and it's over before we're given any opportunity to really feel the depths of Adagio's depression. We're sort of just off-handedly told that she's pretty sad and thinking of ending it all. Wait, what?
I managed to find several positive things to say about the story. The problem is that it took a fair amount of digging, and I am being rather generous with the praise. While the things I said are 100% true, I have to say that the execution, due to the horrid mangling of grammar, really ruins most of what positive value those things have. You have a solid foundation. The story you're telling is good, and the choices and expansion of the known with your own material make for a good piece, but in order to see and understand that we have to translate your words into something that makes sense. This story is in desperate need of editing. If you want to take what is at this point just a solid foundation, and actually turn it into a good story, it will take a lot of major revision.
With the errors fixed, it would be easier to understand what places you could expand on, to really tell your story better. Clean up the foundation, then build on it.
At the moment, no. This story wouldn't even serve as a decent example of what not to do. It isn't so bad as to have value as a study subject, it simply makes some very blatant and basic mistakes rather thoroughly.
You've had plenty of praise. Some people, at this point, might say, "I'm sorry to have to ruin the good mood," but I'm not that sort of person. Hopefully you'll gain more benefit from my review than the praise. I see no reason to apologize for that. Indeed, I'd like to take a moment to point out that I am frankly baffled at the praise the others are heaping upon you. I am worried that in the absence of some honest critique, you might have been led to believe that you were doing well, and coast on, continuing the course. I really do hope that you examine what it is you have written, seek the assistance of one or more competent editors, and actually continue to work on this story. Barring that, this is a situation where it is actually harmful to get nothing but good praise.
5269276 Graci for the critique. I was pretty facetious with the "educational institution" remark, but it's always good to get a hard look at your own work.
Well, back to the ol' keyboard....
I haven't read any other comments as I wanted to give you my view on this, so forgive me if I unintentionally parrot anyone.
First off I wish to open with the fact that I did enjoy the story. I believe it was a wonderful character piece. Here's the but though, it has an obviously experimental structure to it. While this structure is not enough to kill it for me I find it a bit off-putting. I will give you props for being consistent with it though. We are told how the sirens feel, when we could have been shown and come to our own conclusions. The refusal to not name any other characters besides Sonata, Aria, and Adagio is as understandable as it is irritating. Writing without direct dialog was also an interesting but awkward choice. It just doesn't all fit together well in this story at all if you were to ask me and I suppose you haven't.
Maybe its something about the pace and repeated pattern. Maybe it is the telling of the characters rather than the showing. Maybe its the awkward language when dealing with other characters. Maybe it is none or all of those things. I just feel that the story was interesting, had a good premise, but wasn't as well executed as it could have been. It was good, not great, and i wanted great.
But then, who am I to talk? I'm just some loser on the internet.
Beautiful style. I really enjoyed and envisioned this one. You did a great job!
5269697 I guess there's the kicker. There are both more flattering and more stinging words to use than "experimental," but the moment I decided to write in this manner I doomed it to be of questionable technical quality, at least initially.
I will still look for an editor, to clean it up a bit, but I do hope I can retain some of its charm while improving it.
I really enjoyed this story. What others have said about the tense changes and grammar issues is fairly true, but I think the other tricks you had up your sleeve made up for that quite well. I rather liked having to figure out which she was being talked about from the context -- though some of those could use a bit more context -- and I really liked the way you described how they each found their songs again. It's not a masterpiece -- and when I read it I wasn't expecting one -- yet I definitely found it good enough to recommend to others. You could certainly try to fix this up, but that time could also be used to start on a new story, with the lessons learned from this one fresh in your mind.
That's just a suggestion, though, it's up to you. Thanks for sharing this!
Interesting. Needs Grammatical TLC.
I never knew non-dialogue stories could be so... interesting
cdn3.raywenderlich.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Rage-well-done.png
While I can't say I enjoyed this, per se, it's a quick read and I think you chose well in using no dialogue to tell it. Also, I feel like your writing was getting better as you progressed. Keep at it!
This is a beautiful and inspiring story.
I don't often correct grammar, but you seem to consistently use the past perfect "sung" in place of the past "sang." It's a little jarring to read "they sung" instead of "they sang" or "they had sung."
Wow... dunno what to say.
Interesting and strong concept.
The execution, however... It needs some help.
Loved there was no 'speech' in the story.
Never sacrifice grammar for style. Without grammar, it's like sword fighting without a sword. Sooner or later, you'll get the point (And I do believe the pun is intended). Grammar is the brush with which you compose your story. You may do impressionist, or abstract, but, you still require grammar. Otherwise, it's like a baby finger painting for the first time. You might see something there, but, without the refinement, it's just a bunch of paint on the paper or canvas.
So no actual words and constant singing junk. So boring AND annoying.
A vector project I'm working on for these three reminded me of this chapter earlier this morning, so I came back to give it a re-read. Despite all the technical feedback you've received, I still love the "raw"-ness of the emotion that this whole story evokes.
5441538
This comment honestly baffles me. I find the lack of any dialog only strengthens the power behind the emotions here. Not criticizing you for that observation, mind you - I just had a completely opposite take on it.
5544747 I can't say it's "bad" per say but rather, I guess more personal than anything else, is that this kind of fic doesn't work well.
It might as well have been turned into a full page of song lyrics.
I like your style, very metaphor-based and frankly surreal. Somehow, it not only works, but works excellently. Good job! This last chapter was particularly powerful, and I loved the descriptions of how the Sirens supported one-another.
6534090
It's fanfiction man. Don't get all bent out of shape.
But friendship is magic. Is she saying they don't need friends? That doesn't make sense.
I seem to be reading a completely different story than everyone else.
I thoroughly enjoyed it, start to finish.
Your prose is snappy and erratic, it feels good to read. No-dialogue is a challenge run that when pulled off makes for an extremely comfy experience.