Quick update and a story snippet

I'll admit that my stories haven't had an update in a while. I'd like to blame Bethesda and their timely (or untimely depending on your stance) release of Fallout 4. I've just been too absorbed in playing it that I forgot my writing.

That being said, I've had the idea of writing "intermediate" chapters for Guiding Sirens for a while now, and I just got through touching up one such "intermezzo". The idea of these mid-chapters is that they would take place in between the main fic's chapters, usually not affecting the plot in any way other than to explain something minor (like Comet's disdain for and refusal to acknowledge the sirens, for example.) Hopefully, people will like these enough that I can either make a separate collection of them and upload it to FIMFic, or I can add them to the current fic. Without further ado, Guiding Sirens Intermezzo number 0.

Intermezzo: Check Engine

Vorpal kept gazing out of the passenger window, thinking about his conversation with the siren Adagio. It was all he could do at the moment given that his friend Comet had music blaring from his speakers, making any attempt at conversation impossible.

“A real, live siren…” he said to himself. “They look so much like us, though. Even after having their gems shattered, they retained their humanoid forms.”

Comet turned the radio down and glanced over at Vorpal. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just lost in thought about something.”

The driver started chuckling, a devious grin forming on his face. “You were thinking about that girl you chatted with back in the cafe, weren’t you?”

Vorpal eyed Comet, a perplexed look on his face. “Yeah, but not in whatever way you assume I am.”

“Relax, I’m just messing with you.” Comet pulled up to a red light, letting him speak more freely. “So, who is she? Does she go to our school?” He placed a finger in his lips before pointing it at Vorpal’s direction. “Is she hot?”

“Of course she’s hot!” replied the barista. “Have you ever heard of an unattractive siren before?”

Just as Vorpal finished his sentence, the car started rumbling. Smoke emerged from the hood as the engine died. Comet went wide-eyed and quickly got out from behind the wheel, popping open the hood as he did.

“No no no no no no no no no…” he said repeatedly as he pried it open. The smoke was blown right into his face, forcing him to cough as he waved away the remainder. “I just got this thing serviced yesterday!”

“Time to find a new mechanic”, chimed Vorpal as he exited the vehicle. “I told you you should’ve tried Hayseed Turnip Truck’s place. He might charge a few bits more, but it’s quality work from what I hear.”

“Gee, thanks for the reminder” Comet replied in a sarcastic manner. “Got any more sage advice?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact. Stop trying to race Flash Sentry every time you see him.”

“I’ll stop when he agrees to finally take the kiddie gloves off and race.” He tosses the keys to Vorpal, pointing him in the direction of the trunk. “Mind grabbing my kit from the back?”

“Sure.” He walks toward the back of the car and opens the trunk, grabbing a metal toolbox stashed near the trunk door. He quickly brought them to his friend then watched as he quickly unlatched it and grabbed his tools.

“I thought that girl looked familiar. She went up against the Rainbooms during the BOTB finals with the other two. The Dazzlings, right?”

“Yeah, that’s right. BOTB?”

“Battle of the Bands, numbskull.” Comet quickly found the problem and began working on fixing it, not wanting to be late getting home. “So, you had a little face-to-face with Adagio Dazzle. I never thought she’d show herself again after that little slipup.”

“She took me by surprise as well. Still, you can’t really blame her for what happened. It’s not like we knew she’d lose her ability to sing if her siren gem broke.”

A loud clang was heard as soon as Vorpal finished speaking. Comet, on the other hand, was just getting started.

“Goddamn cheap tools! That’s the last time I accept a hand-me-down from my old man!” He tossed the broken tool back in the box and pulled out his cellphone, dialing some digits on the numberpad. “Speaking of which, I need to call him. He should have the good tools in the van.”

“First your car, then your tools. Tonight’s not your night, C.” Comet gestured for Vorpal to continue. “Alright, as I was saying, no one’s really faced something like them before, right? We don’t know what else they lost along with those gems.”

“And here I was about to interrogate them for their chewy granola bar recipe. Hello? Hey, old man…”

Vorpal grabbed a book from inside the car and opened it up. It contained his notes over the events of the Fall Formal earlier that school year and Friday’s Battle of the Bands. “Who would’ve thought that magic was an actual thing? First a raging she-demon, now sirens…”

“Hello? Old man, are you there?” Comet looked at his cell phone and realized the battery had died in the middle of his call. “Great, right before I asked him to bring the tools as well.” The driver mulled things over in his mind for a few moments, then he had an epiphany about his predicament. “Hey, you didn’t happen to mention the Dazzlings while I was on the phone, did you?”

“I was only talking to myself, but I did mention sirens--” A loud crack was heard by both teenagers. Comet ran to the back of his vehicle, his face becoming more enraged as he saw the back window broken in several places.

“OH COME ON! As if I needed MORE expenses!” The driver could do nothing else except lean against his car with his arms crossed. “Whatever you do, please don’t say the “S” word. I don’t need to be broke this week.

“What ‘S’ word? Si--”

“STOP SAYING SIREN!” As soon as the word escaped Comet’s lips, four loud pops were heard followed by the sound of rushing air. The car sunk lower as the tires became deflated, Comet’s pride going down with it. All he could do at this point was place his forehead on the roof and sigh. “There goes my entire week’s pay.”

Vorpal started forming his own hypothesis about the events that transpired. In a brilliant yet baseless moment, he said “Neris?”

Just then, a pizza delivery bike zipped past the young men, hitting a pothole on the road. The bump caused by the pit sent a box flying, landing on the street right next to the broken-down car. Vorpal walked over to the box and checked the contents, smiling once he saw the intact pie.

“Alright. Cheese, tomato, and barbeque sauce pizza.” He helped himself to it, grabbing a slice and eating it hungrily. “You would not believe the amount of liquid we drink at work. Barely one-fifth of the menu is actual food. Hey, you want a slice?”

Vorpal turned to face Comet, pizza still in hand. The driver met his friend’s disarming smile with an intense glare. Vorpal slowly placed the box on the roof of the car and grabbed his own cell phone, hitting one of the speed dial buttons.

“Hayseed Tow-It Truck Service! How may I help you?”

Vorpal handed the phone to Comet, curling the driver’s fingers over the device himself. “I think it’s for you.”