The Sunset Sonata, Pt2
The Sunset Sonata: Pt 2
Sonata Dusk
The problem was that Sonata wasn’t sure it would be fine. She knew that Sunset meant well, and she knew that under most usual circumstances, things would be alright. But now she wasn’t sure.
The work room had a smell to it that always calmed Sonata, a mixture of mountain air, fresh cut wood, and industrial strength insulation. Okay, that was an acquired taste in scents, but hey, it worked. But not this time. As she stood in front of her easels, sucking the end of her ponytail for comfort, Sonata had to admit that she had not encountered a problem like this before. She’s been stymied in the past, oh to be sure, many times. Many, many times. But most of those problems were ones that she could share with her sisters, or in recent times, with Sunset and her friends. Even the issue of realising her feelings for Sunset had not been so high an obstacle as this one, since Sunset had taken the first running jump.
But not this time. As much as a non-problem as it seemed, Sonata was forced to admit to herself that she was labouring under the worst problem a painter could possibly have. A problem so all-encompassing, so vile and cruel, that artists and other creative types almost never dare to speak its name.
“Artist’s block?” Sunset asked.
Sonata made a muffled, affirmative noise, her face planted onto the table.
Sunset didn’t say anything for a little while. She seemed to realise that this was an issue Sonata couldn’t just get over. Sonata remained with her head resting on the polished wood, still sucking the end of her ponytail anxiously.
“Don’t do that,” Sunset said gently, tugging the ponytail from her Sonata’s mouth. “You still paint with that.” She sighed a sad little sigh. “Well, I can see that this is eating you up. I still don’t get why you don’t just go back to drawing what you want to draw.”
“Because Hoity told me that the Capital people expect better,” Sonata slurred through the table surface.
“Dear, I get that you’re down and everything, but it’s hard for me to understand you with your head on the table,” Sunset informed her with a little smile.
“What’s it going to take for you to give me a nickname, Silly Shimmy?”
“As soon as I come up with a good one, I’ll be sure to tell you.”
Sonata raised her head, resisting the urge to start sucking her ponytail again. “It’s just that... well, Hoity sponsoring me has given us so many good things,” she explained morosely.
“True,” Sunset agreed.
“And I just don’t want to lose that. For either of us. I like living here.”
“And so do I,” Sunset said, putting her hand over Sonata’s. “But you don’t have to push yourself so hard that you’re not happy. Your particular job kind of depends on you being in a good mood.”
Sonata hit her head into the table again. “I know...”
Sunset entreated her again not to face plant the table. “Okay, why don’t you try explaining to me why you’re having difficulty. What actually is the problem you’re having with these paintings? Maybe I can suggest something.”
“Well,” Sonata began slowly. She screwed up her face as a sign of deep thinking. “It’s kind of... you know it’s like... it’s sort of...”
“Yes?” Sunset prompted gently.
“I just can’t get them to have any... oomph.”
“Character?”
“No, no, the other thing.”
“Um... colour? Shape? Detail?” Sunset thought for a moment, as Sonata shook her head, gesturing impatiently with her hand as though trying to egg her brain into gear. “Life?” Sunset suggested.
Sonata snapped her fingers. “Yeah, that!”
“They don’t look right to you?”
“No, they look... well, lifeless. Like they’re just paintings.”
Although Sonata didn’t guess it, Sunset decided not to point out that in actual fact they were just paintings. Sunset was not an artsy type, but she was a student of magic, which had its own brand of joie de vivre. She thought that she knew then what the problem was, and thought back to what Princess Celestia had always attempted to tell her was a good way to overcome it. Sonata simply balanced her head on one hand, staring into the grains of wood of the table.
“How about we go and try to get you some inspiration?”
Sonata looked up with a frown. The phrasing threw her off. “Go and get some?” she asked.
Sunset seemed to realise her blunder. “I mean, we can go out somewhere and try to inspire you to draw something. You were inspired when we went to Whitetail, and you used to get awesome ideas at Applejack’s farm.”
“True,” Sonata conceded. “But Hoity wants me to draw things that’ll appeal to the Capital. Portraits and cityscapes.”
“Well then, let’s go to a big city for a day.” Sunset said cheerfully. “You’ve drawn a city before,” she said, gesturing to the hallway.
Personally, Sonata was against framing and putting up her own paintings in their house. At first she had blushed every time she went passed the first one Sunset had insisted they put up in the lounge, a sunny winter day at Applejack’s farm. Over time, as her misgivings left her, Sunset had encouraged her to put up more of her paintings. The only one Sonata actually liked up was the one in their bedroom, which had come from her private collection of stalker-ish doodles and paintings of Sunset that she had done before they got together. It still made her cringe to think how dim she had been about the whole thing, when it seemed so obvious to her now. Even after they got together officially, Sonata had intended to keep those drawings personal, but on the day of the move, the damn folder had dropped and sent her private stash flying all over the floor. She hadn’t time to pick them up before Sunset was upon them.
“Sonata?” Sunset said. “Earth to Sonata.”
Sonata looked up. “Huh?”
“You were spacing out on me there.” Sunset grinned at her. “So what do you think? Day trip? We could invite Rainbow. I don’t think she’s doing anything today.”
Sonata thought about it. “Maybe tomorrow,” she said, standing up.
Sunset looked faintly surprised at her standing. “Where are you going?” she asked. “Not back to work?”
“No,” Sonata said. “Just going to get some air. I think I’ll take a walk, clear my head.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll be here when you get—“ The front door closed. Sunset remained sitting at the kitchen table, hands clasped and looking troubled.
Sonata had not exited the house without a purpose in mind. None of her friends had so far been able to help with her block. Rarity and Sunset had perhaps given the best advice, with talks of seeking inspiration. But this was not about getting inspiration, about finding something new to paint. This was about painting something she really didn’t want to paint.
Applejack and Rainbow Dash had both suggested ploughing through, about facing the issue head on and, to use Rainbow’s specific choice of vocabulary, making it work for you. Even to this day Sonata had no inkling of what that meant.
Fluttershy’s solution had been to suggest drawing other things, maybe a bunny or a kitty cat, and hope that the newly developed feelings of fuzz-wuzzy sweetness gave her the confidence to go on. Sonata had tried valiantly, but had quickly found that she had an allergy to cats, and that bunny rabbits just creeped her out. How she had not realised her cat allergy until now was still beyond her.
Pinkie Pie perhaps had the least helpful, if not the most enthusiastic help. Her idea had been to distract her from the problem by inviting her to the Cake’s latest birthday bash, and hope that the sights and sounds of laughing children, intermingled with fun games and sweets would buoy her up so much that she could get on with her paintings. The reason for this being the least helpful was because she actually did get all pepped up and excited, only for this good mood to puncture like an old tire the moment she got back from the party, stuffed full of cake, to her workroom.
She took the bus into town, feeling nostalgic. Hoping Hoity wasn’t there for once, she went to the art gallery again, not to see her own pictures, but this one painting that she’d seen a long time ago with Sunset when they had gone on their first date. A massive white piece of canvas as big as a wall, with a seemingly arbitrary splattering of lines and squiggles. To the ordinary observer it seemed like nothing special. Just a bit of new-age art that people liked to try and interpret to mean anything and everything, whilst it might have meant nothing at all. Couldn’t art just be beautiful? Why did it have to have some deep, philosophical or political meaning behind it? Sonata always shook her head when she heard people discussing that sort of thing.
She sighed, looking up at the monstrously large painting. Anyone who figured out what the picture actually did would probably think that it depicted some great and complex scenery, but actually the resulting image was simplicity itself.
Sonata set herself to the centre so as to see the picture again. As the lines coalesced and she saw the true picture within, she smiled at it contentedly. A man and woman, both rather plain looking but with the warmest, happiest looks on their faces, stared out of the picture, their hands clasped. Around them, in a thousand places, in a thousand different sizes, fonts, and languages, were the words
Be Happy
It didn’t matter how depressed Sonata felt, this painting always made her cheer up a little. She wished that she had a copy of it at home. It couldn’t solve her current problem of course, but she felt that she needed pepping up a little, and she had nurtured a hope that it would give her the confidence to go on. It didn’t but it was worth it anyway.
She stood there for a few moments, wondering whether she should take a full tour or just leave. As she had exhibitions in the gallery, she was free to come and go as she pleased, but she still liked to see a lot of the paintings and sculptures. The floor upstairs had an entire case devoted to sculptures made of wax: pink wax roses, and a white wax Swiss-army knife, a—
“Ahh! My number one artist.”
Oh no... Sonata thought, not turning around.
An arm insinuated itself around her shoulders. “Coming to scope the competition?” he said with knowing amusement. “The exhibition isn’t for another few weeks. The more exquisite pieces have not yet arrived. They’re gearing up, much like you, for their moment.” He stretched an arm before them, as though surveying a bold new landscape. His cuffs had golden links, and his fingernails were manicured to perfection. Sonata covertly inspected her own nails. Whilst neat and even, they were nowhere near as resplendent as his own.
“You think there will be a lot of them?”
“A lot of them?” he laughed, holding her closer. Why was he always so clingy? “My dear, every person in this city with any pretensions to the name artiste is going to have work here. The entire entrance hall is being refitted to accommodate them all. Well, those of sufficient talent, anyway,” he amended with a chuckle.
“Oh,” Sonata said, unable to think of anything else to say.
“Oh yes. By the way,” he began, as though a thought had just occurred to him. “Fancy and Fleur were most impressed by what they saw of you. Oh yes, yes, very impressed. Although,” he gave her a pat on the back. “I think we could wow them a little more, eh?” he said with a wink. “I think with the right attire, the right air, you could be very well presentable. Very well presentable indeed.”
“Presentable?” Sonata asked nervously.
“But of course!” he cried exuberantly, flourishing a hand in the air. “Presentation is key, my dear. Talent is one thing, but you yourself must impress them with your grace and eloquence! In the Capital this is all completely expected. Tantamount to an insult to show them anything less.”
If Sonata hadn’t been quite so nervous before, she was now. Grace and eloquence? For realzies?
There you go, you see...
“Uh...” she ventured.
“You’ll be a natural,” Hoity said confidently, his cultured tone always sounding slightly mocking even when he didn’t mean to be. “You have that friend of yours. You know the one whose parents own that quaint little clothes shop.”
“Rarity?”
“Yes, that’s the one,” he agreed. “Have her do you up an outfit for the evening.” He pulled out a shiny black wallet, and slipped several bills out and into her hand. “Make it a nice one, will you? Believe me when I say that no expense is too great for a night like this one.”
He ruffled her hair in a rather condescending way, and made to walk away. Sonata was now feeling hot and cold all over. It was like having a boiling kettle poured in one ear and ice water tipped through the other. Sweat was forming in uncomfortable areas and she suddenly became aware of tiny sounds all around, small details of things she wouldn’t usually pay any attention to. She wondered if she was going to be sick.
“Hoity?” she croaked.
“Hm?” he inquired, looking back. He blinked a few times as he saw how green she was going.
“I... I-I don’t think I can...” She really thought she was going to vomit right then and there. Hoity seemed to notice the danger signs. He plucked out a handkerchief, and using it like a napkin, guided her by the shoulder to the bathrooms. Paying no heed to the male-female signs, he led her into the woman’s, being careful to avoid being directly in front of her. Leading her to the sink, he backed up a little and began inspecting himself in the mirror for any creases or lint on his suit.
“S-Sorry,” Sonata groaned. “I don’t... think I can do this.”
“Nonsense,” Hoity said. He was trying to sound confident, but Sonata could hear the slight tremor of trepidation in his voice. He patted her shoulder delicately. “You’re fine, you’ve just got a little of the jitters. That’s a good thing. Embrace the jitters,” he said manfully, holding up two clenched fists.
A lady walked into the bathroom at that moment and uttered a “Oh!” of surprise.
“Get out!” Hoity barked. “Can’t you see we’re having a crisis here?”
The lady exited swiftly.
“I can’t do the paintings,” Sonata managed to say between deep breaths.
“What are you talking about?” Hoity said in a falsely upbeat voice. “Your work has always been wonderful. I hope you know I don’t just scout anyone.”
“The ones you asked me to paint. They just won’t come out right.”
Hoity bit his lip. “Oh, I see. Artist block.” He sounded more worried now. Despite how finally manicured they were, he chewed on a thumbnail for comfort, apparently thinking hard. “Well,” he began, “I’m sure that you’ll come around. We have three weeks to go, you know? That’s plenty of time!”
Sonata’s reply to this was hardly encouraging. Pushing herself off the sink top with a ominous gurgling sound, she rushed into the nearest stall. Hoity winced as the sound of vomit hitting a bowl of water echoed through the lavatory.
“Eugh, so undignified,” Hoity murmured to himself. “I say, are you alright?”
“Actually yes, I feel much better.” Hoity grimaced again at the cheery sarcasm.
Sonata emerged, still looking pale and wan. Hoity stared at her, slightly repulsed.
“Look,” he started in a sobering tone. “All the greats throughout history have suffered nervousness and stage fright. You have to overcome it in order to be the best that you can be.”
“I guess,” Sonata said, wiping her mouth on some paper towels. “You just made it sound so... brutal.”
“It is brutal, my dear,” he said solemnly. “The issue seems to be your inability to do the paintings I requested. I assure you, the Capital has certain expectations, and we must meet them, as leaders of the fashionable world.”
“How do you do it?” Sonata asked, a little desperation in her voice. “I’m not a leader. I’m not famous or one of the greats, or anything. How do I do it?”
Hoity looked at her long and hard through his purple tinted glasses. He seemed to be debating something within himself. He exhaled long and slowly, as though what he were about to say were something he really would rather not say, and whatever he was about to do was something he’d really rather not do.
“Well,” he said. Sonata blinked in surprise. She’d never heard him sound so uncertain before. His cultured accent disappeared almost entirely. “There have been ways that some of the greats have um, well... given themselves a little help.”
“Help?” Sonata asked. “Like, inspiration or something?” She felt a sense of let down at the thought.
“You could say that,” Hoity said, still sounding like he was measuring every word. He gave her another long, hard stare. Then he looked back at the entrance to the room, as though checking whether someone was coming in. Sonata’s gaze instinctively glanced in the same direction, as she did so, he suddenly pushed Sonata into another stall, avoiding the one filled with sick. Sonata squeaked, but Hoity pressed a hand to her mouth and held her there for a few moments in silence. Sonata felt her heart racing, felt her fluttery stomach fill with leaden dread. What was going on? What was he doing? In the tight confines of the stall, the two of them were intimately close, his silvery hair hanging not an inch from her own blue fringe.
“I need your word,” Hoity whispered to her, looking over his glasses into her eyes, “that if I help you now, you will never breathe a word of it to anyone. Anyone at all, ever. Do you understand me?”
Sonata felt quite terrified with his hand over her mouth and his body uncomfortably close to her own. More out of fear for what was happening than anything else, she gave a jerky nod. After another second or two, Hoity let go of her mouth.
“Your word,” he said sharply.
“I-I promise...” Sonata squeaked. “B-But what are you—“
Whilst she stammered out her question, Hoity had reached into his pocket. Her eyes followed the hand, her heart chilling at the thought of what it might be he was reaching for. But it was nothing more terrifying than a small, silver case, rather like a cigar case. But Hoity didn’t smoke, did he?
“I know how you feel,” Hoity said, again without the overtly cultured accent he usually put on. “Glamorous though it is, my job has its, err... down periods. Sometimes I need a little something to get me up and going again.”
Sonata watched as he opened the silver case. Inside was a little stash of white pills, looking to Sonata like aspirin or any kind of regular tablets.
“What are they?” Sonata asked, suspiciously.
Hoity hesitated a split second. “Concentration boosters,” he said. “At least, that’s what I call them.” He sounded a little furtive.
“What are they for?”
“They help you relax. Take some of the tension away. You’d be surprised at the kind of work you can do after a few hours of extreme relaxation,” he explained, a little of his usual attitude coming back.
Sonata scrutinised the pills for a moment. “Are these—“
Hoity cut her off. “Concentration boosters,” he said, slowly and deliberately. “You don’t speak of this to anyone.” He pressed a pair of them into her hand. She held them for a moment or two, and then tried to hand them back.
“I don’t want them.”
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to have them,” Hoity said hastily. “They’re just in case. Sometimes it’s comforting to know that you have something to fall back on.”
Sonata hesitated as he pressed her fingers over the pills. She really didn’t want them. She had no idea what they were. Were they legal? Given the way Hoity was acting, she guessed that they probably weren’t.
“Listen to me,” Hoity began, placing both hands on her shoulders. “As your patron, it is my job, and my wish for you to be successful. Because that will reflect well on me. As a person however, I’ll tell you that this doesn’t mean I have any particular regard for you. If you fail, I cannot go down with you. Our relationship, such as it is, rests entirely on your ability to produce. That’s the way it is. If that happens, I’d rather spare you the additional pain of thinking that I was your friend. We’re not friends, you understand me?”
Sonata didn’t respond at first. She felt as though she’d frozen. As much as she wasn’t particularly fond of Hoity, she understood this to be an act of kindness. They were business partners, but telling her that after the fact would, she realised, have been a blow. Cold though it seemed, he was trying to prepare her for a possible and unpleasant outcome.
“Thanks,” she said, sadly.
“Just keep the pills,” Hoity said quietly. “You don’t have to take them. Just remember if you’re ever in a bad place, they can help.”
With that, he exited the stall. Sonata remained inside, leaning against the divider.
“What’s your problem?” she heard Hoity ask indignantly, his upper-class accent back in place. “Have you never seen a transsexual before?”
Sonata made her way home with her mind occupied by the terrifying prospect of whatever it was that Hoity had given her.
In her mind, she knew that she ought to just throw them away. She didn’t know what they were, Hoity had not explained what they did with any degree of clarity, and they were more than likely illicit. With all of this in mind, she wanted no part in them. She knew all too well what an addiction could do to a person. She and her sisters had been addicted for years.
On the other hand, she didn’t throw the pills away, but stashed them away in her pocket before leaving the bathroom. Despite her misgivings, something of what Hoity had said stuck in her mind.
Sometimes it’s comforting to know that you have something to fall back on.
She couldn’t deny the justice of these words, not with how her insides were still churning. She couldn’t ever remember feeling this nervous in her life. Terrified yes. Depressed, sure. Suicidally so. But never nervous. It wasn’t a fear of what had been, or what was happening, but a fear of the future, and she could not remember having so much to lose.
She was walking up hill towards her house, distractedly fingering the pills in her pocket, when a sound pervaded her distractedness just a little too late. Looking up, she had a brief sight of a wild rainbow mane of hair appearing suddenly over the hill in front of her, and then felt suddenly as though she’d been hit by a stampeding horse. Sonata’s hands flew out of her pockets, too late to prevent her fall. The next thing she knew she was flat on her back, Rainbow Dash having performed a sort of fancy-foot spin to keep on her feet.
“Oh my gosh,” she said anxiously, still jogging on the spot. “Are you okay? Sunset didn’t see that did she? She is going to kill me.”
“You’d know if she saw that,” Sonata groaned darkly, sitting up.
“Yeah, you’re right there,” Rainbow murmured nervously, looking around furtively for any sign of the alpha lioness. “Oh hey, you dropped something.”
Sonata was rubbing her chest, trying to overcome her winded feeling, when Rainbow reached down and plucked the pills off the ground. She scrutinised the pills for moment, and then went pale.
“What the hell are you doing with these?” she hissed. Sonata jumped, uncomprehending.
“With what?” she asked, her hand automatically reaching for her pocket. Her heart missed a beat. “Oh...”
“Oh indeed,” Rainbow said seriously, her deep magenta eyes, so like Sonata’s, boring into Sonata’s own. “You want to try explaining?” she asked, holding them out.
Sonata’s brain worked furiously. Without a hint of warning, her hand shot out and seized the pills back. She considered herself lucky, as Rainbow’s reaction time was practically legendary.
“Hey!” Rainbow snapped, evidently caught off guard.
“Please don’t tell Sunset!” Sonata blurted. “I-I’m not taking them, seriously!“
Rainbow scowled at her for a moment or two, and then seized her by the scruff of the neck. Against her protestations, Rainbow hauled Sonata over to a divide between two houses without cars, their occupants absent, and let go of her. Standing in the way of the road, she pointed at the hand containing the pills.
“Spill. Now!” she whispered as quietly, but as forcefully as she could. “And don’t try any of that ‘I was just holding it for someone’ nonsense.”
“I’m not holding it for anyone,” Sonata said miserably. “I just...” She bit her lip, trying to hold back her leaden guilt.
She explained briefly about what had transpired at the gallery, neglecting to mention who it was she had received the pills from as best she could. Rainbow scowled through the entire explanation, and when Sonata was done, she sighed long and hard.
“I swear I wasn’t going to use them,” Sonata pleaded, hands clasped together. “I don’t even know what they are.”
“Well I do,” Rainbow growled. She snapped her fingers and gestured to see them again. Sonata held them out, and Rainbow peered down to look at them closely. “Yep, I thought that was what they were.”
“What?”
“It’s part of the Wonderbolt Academy Entrance Course to be able to recognise a whole bunch of stuff like this so that people don’t try to sell us illegal substances. Which, heh, I don’t need of course because I’m awesome as it is,” she said casually. “Oh these’ll get you relaxing alright. If they were made properly, they’re relatively harmless, but that’s the thing about drugs being illegal. The people who make ‘em don’t exactly care much what happens to you so long as they get paid.”
“You think they’re dangerous?”
Rainbow seemed to consider this, her scowl melting into a stern sort of frown. “Sonata, it’s not my place to tell you how to live your life,” she began, “but as your friend, I think you should throw these away. Now. If you knew that these were legit I wouldn’t really have a problem, but if you don’t know... it’s not worth the risk in my opinion.”
Sunset was out when Sonata returned home. Up in her work room, Sonata stared at the paintings before her, all in states of semi-completion. The one she hated most, and yes, hate was the right word to use, was the largest; a five by three portrait of some guy from some place that Sonata had only the vaguest recollection of from her time in school. Some national hero famous for doing something a long time ago. He had possibly the most boring military uniform ever devised; a grey and green one that made it look like he was coated in river sludge, and a face that was oddly square, with ridiculously large side burns. The background was set with a bronze cannon, and topped with hangings appropriate for the era. It was apparently the sort of thing that the Capital was very fond of. Sonata hated the sight of it. It was so far removed from anything she’d done before. Anything she painted usually filled her with a sense of intrigue and excitement, an idea that when she was finished, something beautiful might be the outcome. She couldn’t feel that now. She knew that even if she finished it, the picture would be dull, the man in it equally so, the background cold, the aura emanating from it dusty and bygone. There was no life in it, and scrounge though she would through her imagination to find some way to make it the least bit interesting, she could think of nothing.
Her hand drifted to her pocket, feeling the pills through the fabric. She took them out and put them in a little tin that housed her clean paintbrushes. No one would find them there. Only she used her brushes for anything.
Hearing the door downstairs, she remained where she was. The situation seemed hopeless from every angle. She thought of Sunset downstairs, and was filled with a sense of deep appreciation for her being there. Sunset was her only comfort now. Sonata needed her, and perhaps in more ways than one.
If there was anything that Sunset Shimmer was good at, aside from knowing about magic, cooking, having good grades at school, her freaky knowledge of accounting, and her seemingly psychic ability to know when Sonata was trying to sneak the last bit of cake from the kitchen, it was giving advice. And Sonata needed some advice right now. And perhaps some comforting. She needed to know that Sunset was there for her.
- To be Continued
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I was scared she might actually use one of those pills!
Oh no...
I just know this is going to end badly.
THROW THEM AWAY, DAMMIT! GET RID OF THEM! THEY'RE MORE TROUBLE THAN THEY'RE WORTH!
Ooooooo... You better not write an addicted Sonata. You BETTER.
5381413
She still might.
Dude!....these chapters are toooooo small for me bro I just want moar, this story is so good I could reread it again! And thats not easy! Nice work!
Okay, i don´t say this is a bad chapter, but i don´t like what happend there. I mean i don´t like Hoity Toity right now and he really has to be a bad person, which is addicted to what other high class people think of him.
I like what Sunset was trying to say her, that she should paint what she wants, and i am not sure if Sonata really has a good reason for herself to take the pills, but i hope Sunset find them first or something like that.
I don´t know how you want the Human fancy Pants and Fleur to be in privat, but i could see how they would pay Sonata instead of Hoity Toity for draw really good pictures.
I am not sure what else i want to say, but to make it short i hope Sonata don´t see a reason for taking those pills.
5381501 Lets get the pitch forks and torches out of the closet and start getting them back into working condition. We might need them soon.
Pills that make you relax with dire side effects??? This doesn't remind me of a certain drug from a certain post-apocalyptic story ;) Also I have a feeling I know where this is going, well at least a certain plot point anyway, and feels will ensue.
When I first read the part in the bathroom, Hoity pushing Sonata into a stall that she hadn't been in and putting a hand over her mouth to stop her complaining, I really thought the worst... I'm glad it didn't end like that, but I'm still disturbed over the likelihood of these E-Pills having a major use in the story.
I really hope Sunset finds both of them, before Sonata's unease and fears get the better of her. I don't wanna have another hospital scene, especially not one of Sona. :c
I also do hope Sonata tells Sunset the whole truth, not just the half she told Dash. Hoity really needs a fuckin' boot up his high class derrière!
Man, i didn't think I could hate Hoity Toity any more than I already do. So very well written as usual, and I really hope she doesn't take them, but I will admit it would be an interesting bit of story if sunset walked in either just before or right as she was taking them. Although I'd imagine you already have these written out, considering your regularity with updates lol
Can't wait till the next chapter
Oh boy! Drugs?! This spells BIG TROUBLE! Sonata! You'd better be careful! Hopefully Sunset will be able to offer some good advice to ease her stress eh? Great work with this!
5381589 Agreed!
5381589 I'll get the sharpening tools!
Toss 'em, Sonata. Toss 'em before things go further south.
5381413
Throw the pills away!
5381836 Possibly but the title escapes my mind, do you know what it is?
5381516 rainbow got rid of them all for her, remember?
this is going dark places...
Just say 'no', Sonata! Just throw those evil things away right now. It ain't worth it!
I'd sever ties with Hoity Toity while you're at it.
You know what? I actually think it would be more interesting if Sonata got addicted. Testing her relationship with Sunset and put her own life at risk would make the story more intriguing... just saying, I love the Sonata you made and I'd hate to make her suffer like this but it would be interesting.
5381589 I will go gather the angry mob. Maybe i could open a rotten tomato stand as well? *rub chin toughtfully*
5382035 No she didn't, read the end.
5382035 as 5382237 said, read the end. Rainbow said she didn't know if those were the real drugs or fakes that could be harmful. And while she wouldn't tell Sonata how to live her life, she highly ADVISES not to use them.
Rainbow never actually takes them from her, except when she picked them up and looks at them, before handing them back.
No...
Don't do it, Sonata!
DO IT DO IT DO IT
All the cool kids do it...
5382237 oh, i read it wrong.. sorry, i was in a rush
Oh no Sonata please listen to Rainbow and not take the pills. Talk to Sunset about them or something ughhh
I'm hoping for Sonata to end up painting something she likes rather than what the Capitol likes and to have Fancy Pants/Fleur be impressed and help her out or something.
Hoity isn't a bad guy, I can tell that. He does care for Sonata but he's, first things first, a businessman. He wants Sonata to succeed so he can succeed. He's given Sonata chances that she couldn't have had without him however he just isn't the right type of boss for someone like her.
Sonata listen to this wise speech:
"drugs are bad, m'kay, so, if you do drugs, you're bad, m'kay, because drugs are bad. they can hurt your body, m'kay, cause drugs are bad, m'kay...
Now listen to that and go and have a nice cuddle with Sunset
~Tobben
Oh of course she takes the pills. The chance of her not taking them solely depend on her getting the inspiration she needs, and no one in her group can give that to her. Unless some outside source comes in and helps Sonata grow, she'll take the pills and Sunset will find out, and she'll find out Rainbow knew and that will cause a huge downward spiral of conflict and drama.
If there is a way she doesn't take the pills, I will bow to the author's genius.
Well, I guess every time sings start turning for the better, there must be some new tension to keep up the suspense. I will probably like the way you keep the story interesting, once it's done, but right now I can't help but hate you a little for it
5380111
So more like corrupted muses of some type? We got painting, singing, and writing; the big three art endeavors.
Sigh... Drugs hit the scene. And now I want to smash Hoity's head in. Yes he isn't "forcing" her to take them and he says she shouldn't feel obliged to but he obviously is the entire reason she would even consider them. Screw him. Please Sonata just tell Sunset before this turns into more pointless drama. Or Rainbow, just tell Sunset what happened. Sure Sonata asked you not to but since when has someone asking you not to tell in a situation like this lead to something good? Never!
Without too much details, what are those pills?
I find myself really, really disliking Hoity Toity in this chapter. First he's telling Sonata that if she doesn't draw what's in fashion at the moment she'll fail as a leader of fashion, and then he's giving her drugs?! She can't bring her art to life because it isn't art anymore. Art is something that shows up when you love what you do, and Sonata obviously doesn't love doing this. Hoity Toity is saying that she needs to change who she is and what she makes if she wants to be accepted, when in reality she already has everything she needs. All Sonata needs is to do her thing, and paint. Get her in front of a canvas, tell her to paint whatever the heck she wants, and whatever it is will be beautiful.
I think Mr. Gleebits here is leaving us to stew for a bit. I'm sure he's got some great master plan with these things, but I do hope for Sona's benefit that Sunset finds them before one is used, and then tells her the truth.
Don't leave us hanging for too long, seriously... We don't want to wait for the outcome of the "Sunset Sonata".
So, Rainbow Dash was trained to distinguish a specific kind of white powder by sight just in case someone would try to sell them to her without explaining why they were so expensive? Sounds legit.
5382922 They're probably nothing in our real world, but have a name like "Zippers" or "Doofies" or whatever name got slapped on them. It sounds like they're an artificial drug, not something like cocaine, Heroin, or pot which are grown, and more like meth. But even if they are based on a real drug, it would be rather irresponsible (and not to mention immersion-breaking) for the author to just come out and say what they are.
5382772 But only if it is GENIUS! If its in any other way I will likely call foul and convenience!
1). The pills are actually medical grade LSD. Imported from Guatemala.
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"My word, this suit is beginning to feel like singing grapes...Yeeeeaah baby!!"
2). Sonata just needs to paint Sunset naked. That'll fix everything.
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Things are going to get ugly...
What's that up in the sky?
Is it a bird?
Is it a plane?
Wait... no... its just what little respect I had left for Hoity Toity flying off into the sunset. Farewell...
I already lost so much respect for Hoity Toity from the previous chapters, but this? That's a whole new low!
Sonata better not take those pills and talk to Sunset about the situation!
As much as people say dont take them, from what i know about Sonatas character is that her fears will overwhelm her therefore she will take those pills and then ends up in the hospital, and then sue hoity for it.
Great chapter as always. I fucking hate Hoity. Hes such a prick.
As much as I HATE saying this... A teensy tiny part of me wanted her to take those pills. Ugh, I'm a horrible person.
I just thought it would make for an interesting setting. I really don't want to compare it to the chapter where sonata and sunset get drunk, but like that.... ARRGGG WHATS WRONG WITH ME?!?!?!?!
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AHM SO SOORRY MAMA!
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Its also worth mentioning I hate booty now. Nit only did he give sonata drugs, he also influenced in me this self conflict.
Also, I have no idea what drugs do to people, so I probably don't know to the full extent what the consequences of taking those pills are! Plz don't sue me for ignorance and insensitivity!
I'm not sure how I feel about this development... it could go well, or it could go horribly bad.
Don't do drugs, kids.
Also
:|
That is a rather feasible portrayal of Hoity, and I am surprised I never read a story with it before.
I am guessing the pills are ecstasy. Cause good quality MDMA isn't so bad, it's the fake stuff that hurts.
the realness is really holly fuck man this is a really bad sign. as a fucking scrub im qualified to give my completely baseless opinion that this could lead to anxiety based depression and legitimate drug abuse.