Vote count as of 8/10/2016:
Be aggressive: 3
Be crazy: 3
Be polite: 10
Taking a deep breath, I calm down a little to make my decision. I'm itching to tear this prick a new one, but... I've gotta admit, that's probably just gonna get me in trouble. Sonata's idea sounds like fun, I guess her ideas usually do, but as is also typical for her, there's too many ways it could go wrong. Keeping a cool head has to work out for me in the long run, even if I have to go around explaining to people that the blogger is spying on me against my will.
"Okay, okay," I mutter to assure the others, "I'll try talking."
Adagio smiles at me, but doesn't say anything as I approach the door, knock twice, and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
I knock much louder, hearing a startled noise from the other side of the door. When they still don't answer, I feel the rage bubbling up again.
"I know you're in there, and I-" I stop myself before I say anything impolite. Deep breath. "...And I wanna talk to you. I know about your blog."
Getting impatient, Sonata pops her head through the door, then pops back out to look at me. "From the look on her face, she's definitely thinking about it. I'd give her another minute before she cracks and starts undoing those lock-bar thingies."
I can't ask what she means by that without risk of confusing the blogger, but maybe I can speed this up. "I'm not ma-... Sigh. Well, no, I'm mad, but I promise I'm not gonna hurt you, okay?"
About ten seconds later, I hear little bits of metal shuffling and scraping past each other, which is when I realize that Sonata was probably talking about door latches. Sounds like she's got at least three or four of the damn things, but eventually, the door cracks open, and past two thin chains that still hang between the door and the door frame, I can see her. She looks around the age of most girls at CHS (but then, so do I), a really light beige girl with thick-rimmed glasses, purple eyes, and red hair with a two-tone purple stripe. She kinda reminds me of someone, but before I put my finger on it, she starts talking.
"Y-yes, wh-what do you want?"
I don't need to see her whole body to catch her shaky posture, but I clear my throat and act like I don't notice. "You've been running a blog on my sisters and I for the past few weeks. As you probably know, I'm the only one left." I pause, but she doesn't challenge this assertion or make any sort of shift in her face, so either she's a fantastic liar or she didn't hear me talking to Lemon. Or the others. "Now that it's just me, I can assure you there won't be as much noise bleeding through the walls, and while we didn't know we were disturbing you before, I think things will be quieter now. As such, could you please stop that blog of yours? We-" My jaw twitches, but I've already said the word. I use the sad, anguished look on the blogger's face to play this off as loss. "...I, would appreciate it."
Working some emotion into my voice for that last part is pretty easy, because even if I know the truth, I don't like thinking of the others as though they're really not around anymore. I can tell it worked, because Snoopy Poindexter here looks like she's about to cry.
"Of course," she sniffles, "and, I am so sorry."
I shrug, not looking directly at her to keep this sappy moment from going too far. I don't wanna go tearfully hugging anyone if it can be avoided, especially not with a total stranger. Maybe she's thinking the same thing, because she pulls herself together a minute later, undoing the last two latches on her door to open it wider and address me like a person, not a threat.
"I'll shut down the blog. I'll need one more post to explain why, or my readers might, um..." She gives me an apologetic little grin. "Might jump to the wrong conclusions."
I nod, catching something just barely out of sight in her apartment. "...Interesting sense of decoration you've got."
Her eyes go wide and she glances over her shoulder at the offending object; a stethoscope with the listening piece taped to a wall, right by a stool with a pen and notepad sitting on it.
Floating through the wall for a better look, Sonata does her usual thing. "Huh, that is an interesting thing to decorate your house with, but I don't get the feng-shui of the notepad at all. It almost looks like she's been spying on us on purpose or something!"
Adagio just shakes her head as the blogger (I should really ask her name, it's only polite, but she didn't ask mine, either!) makes one of those "Please don't kill me!" smiles.
"Uhh, haha, that, that's there to, uh..."
More amused than annoyed (though I am annoyed) and keeping in mind that being polite is working out great so far, I make an effort to smile a little and keep my tone civil. "Yes? Could you please tell me why that listening instrument and recording stationery are placed by that wall?"
Though she keeps quiet, Adagio smiles brightly. "Very good, Aria!"
The little sense of "Yea, go me!" helps me keep a smile as the blogger gulps. "Okay, um... So, the walls here are kind of thin, but maybe not as thin as I've told my readers. You see, it started when I heard an argument through the walls, back when you guys moved back here. I had heard a little about you three back when I first moved here (long story), but I never thought you'd be back. So when Sunset came by to warn me after helping you guys move in, I-"
I totally don't do it on purpose, but me and Adagio say the exact same thing at the exact same time, though she sounds a lot angrier. "'Warned you?'"
She flinches, giving me a sheepish little smile. "Err... W-well, I mean, I d-don't know if it was like a warning-warning, just, her exact words were 'Those girls are back, please try not to aggravate them if you can help it.'"
I feel a little of my annoyance drain away, because that didn't sound at all like what I'd think of if I wanted to warn someone about someone else. It actually kinda sounds like she was looking out for us, sorta. Adagio must think so too, going by the puzzled look on her face.
"'Try not to aggravate them'? That doesn't... then why...?"
I can't ask what's on her mind right now, but she doesn't look any happier as she regains an irritable scowl and crosses her arms, not saying another word. Instead, I get back to the matter at hand. "Right... So, stethoscope? And, what's your name, while I'm here?"
"M-Moondancer. I'd ask your name, but, um... L-like I was saying, with everything I'd heard about 'The Sirens,' I got a little scared when I heard you guys were back, and it only got scarier the first time I overheard an argument through the walls. I felt trapped, like a kid who -and in light of, you know, you apparently being perfectly sane, I'm really, really sorry for thinking like this, but-"
"Don't worry about it." I twirl a hand in a get-on-with-it kind of way. "Like a kid who...?"
"Um... Well, you know how when you're little, lying in bed at night, the monster in the closet?"
"What?"
She looks at me like I've just grown a second head. "You really are from another world..."
She enlightens me on what is either the most ridiculous or the most terrifiying thing I've ever heard about this dimension. If this 'boogeyman' thing is any kind of real, it never bothered any of us.
"So, since I live alone, I guess that's what it was like to me at first; like a kid stuck staring at the closet, or scared to look under the bed, trapped and alone with 'the monsters.' After the second or third time I heard you guys, I turned to the internet to distract myself, and got the idea to start a blog on what I was hearing, just so it would feel like I had someone to talk to about it when I needed them. At first, the blog was just for my own mental health, just something to vent my fears and be done with it, but before I knew it, I had hundreds of regular readers!" Tentatively, she gives me something like an apologetic grin. "People actually liked hearing about you guys, I guess, and, I won't lie, the popularity felt good."
"I get that," I say with complete sincerity. As far as adoration goes, that doesn't sound like much of a high, but it's something.
"Y-yea... However, since you guys didn't get loud every day, I started running dry on content for the blog, and wanted more." She's not smiling at all now. "So, I went out and got a stethoscope, ta-"
I finish for her. "Taped it to the wall, listened in on us a bunch, and used that to keep your subscribers around?" The guilt on her face practically sings 'Bullseye!'
"I shouldn't have. I'm sorry. I'll stop now, there's... really no more need anyway."
Shooting her what I'm pretty sure is an almost regal, beneficent smile, I nod. "Thanks." Now how do I find out if she knows about the ghosts...? Oh, I know! Idly kicking at the floor as though I'm just making small-talk, I ask "So, what've you heard since...?"
For a second, she looks scared to answer the question, but her voice changes as she chokes up a little. "...Just, y'know... you talking to yourself... falling asleep watching cartoons... talking to yourself some more..."
Sonata continues to be Sonata. "You talked to yourself? I don't remember that, and we were with you all d-mmph?"
Adagio does the world a favor by covering Sonata's mouth, her voice completely deadpan. "Quiet time, Sonata."
"Yea," I continue, having thought up this excuse/lie while sitting in class, "it... I got pretty used to always having company, so... I'm adapting, okay?" She nods twice, so maybe she can relate. "And, was any of that added to the...?" The woeful look on her face is answer enough, making me sigh. "Great." Well, as long as she didn't frame it like 'last living siren reduced to crazy manic-depressive,' at least the blog won't be ending on a damning note. That would look kinda suspicious if you thought about it for a sec, doubly as Trixie, Vinyl, and Octavia (did I get their numbers today...?) know that I know about it now. Heck, maybe I'll get some sympathy out of this.
"I-I'm sorry," she says with a deep frown, "I can't take any of it back, but I promise, I'm done with the blog, and-" she runs over to the wall to rip the stethoscope off and wing it across the room before coming back to the door, "-I'll make one last post to say things quieted down and I don't need it anymore, then that'll be it. Okay?"
"Thanks," I say with a little smile, getting one right back.
"No problem, and, um..." Her mouth opens and closes a few times. I get the feeling she's trying to think of something comforting (not that I need it), but all she comes up with is "I'll, go do that now, bye!"
As the door closes, I turn away and make for our own apartment, keeping my voice down as I smirk. "How was that?"
Adagio's grin is audible as she floats behind me. "Excellent work, you got her to stop while staying perfectly clean!" Then she sounds simultaneously annoyed and perplexed. "That note about Sunset Shimmer, though..."
Sonata sounded curious. "Do ya think she just wanted Moondancer to leave us alone?"
"Hmph," she dismissively hmph'd as I went through the front door and they went through the walls, "doubtful. Half the school knew about that blog, and as Sunset Shimmer went out of her way to check in on us at every opportunity, chances are good that she knew about the blog and, rather than telling us about it, used it to keep tabs on us. The Rainbooms found Aria within an hour of the ritual, and I highly doubt they were planning to drop in anyway that day."
"Maybe, but, what if someone else saw that "AAAH, GET HELP" post and went to get Sunset?"
"That-..." Adagio huffs irritably. "Yes, I suppose that's possible too, but the former explanation wouldn't surprise me."
She really seems to be taking that 'warned me' thing kind of personally. That, or she's really miffed about the idea of Sunset knowing about the blog and intentionally leaving us out. Anyway, I'm home, so I take off my new boots and kick back on the couch, where me and my dead sisters just watch TV for a while. During a commercial break, Adagio asks me a question.
"So, considering that Sonata and I can't really report in for any kind of work anymore, have you thought about what you're going to do for money?"
"Uhh..."
Dangit. Reality stuff. I feel like I've been hit with a quiz I didn't study for (which is usually just ALL OF THEM), but Sonata reminds me of something.
"Sing people into giving her all the money she can carry, duh! Like we did way back when!"
Adagio can't even muster the will to facepalm with her deadpan. "How many times does it need explaining to you why we can't go doing that kind of thing?"
"Oh, right, the whole, Rainboom dealie... Well, like, what if we hopped a bus, went back to where all those rich people were, and-"
"Provided that no one sees Aria briefly leaving or returning to town (granted, some kind of disguise might suffice) or ever asks where she suddenly got her funding?"
"...Lottery?"
Adagio's eyes roll before they stop on me. "So, your thoughts?"
I shrug a little, hoping to pre-empt her a little this time. "I'm thinking you'll tell me that the safest option is to just plain get a job, like before." She nods once, and I feel myself frown as I touch the gem between a thumb and forefinger. "So, when am I gonna be able to use the gem again? I mean, if it's on lockdown for life, it's like..." My brain goes blank for a sec, so I just blurt it out. "You guys died for this, y'know?"
Adagio frowns too. "Well..." She sighs. "Sorry, I'm just trying to be careful. More-than-near-death experience kind of does that-" she glances at Sonata out of the corner of her eye, "-for some of us." Sonata sticking out her tongue makes her snort with amusement before she continues. "But, you're right, there's no point in having a resource you'll never use. What if... I informed the Rainbooms that we've since recovered our voices, so what if you used the gem discreetly to earn a wage?"
I shrug. "I could like, lure customers to come spend somewhere, if I worked something out with the owner beforehand. Could just say it's my great singing that brings 'em in."
"Faster to just make 'em fork over the dough," mutters Sonata.
"And lacking in cover story," Adagio retorts sharply, "though, if you're comfortable in taking that risk, Aria, I'll say no more about it."
Crossing my arms and raising a brow, I can't help being a little skeptical. "Really? Not even an 'I told you idiots!!' if it goes wrong?" I chuckle as she blushes and looks away.
"Erm... Well, what if, instead, you went out and found a job you actually liked?"
I tilt my head disbelievingly. "A job I like?"
Sonata shrugs. "I sorta liked waiting tables, at least when there were no screaming babies in the joint. You might find something fun!"
"You could even use the gem to secure it," Adagio says somewhat uncertainly. "If it's away from the school and only long enough to cement your employment, you could most likely slip by with a quick spell if you were careful. Of course, I'd encourage using that as a last resort, and provided that it's not something you have to keep singing for in order to retain the job (you wouldn't try to be a surgeon or anything, I hope?), it could easily work out in the long-term. That would be my suggestion."
I get comfortable on the couch as I think about this.
On one hand, I really don't wanna deal with work and school, and the thought of the gimme-gimme song is making me sorta nostalgic for how we got something to live on the first time. I want to try living a normal life, but not that normal! One good score and I'd be set for months. Yea, I'd be in hot water if I got caught, but the three of us are technically royalty, dammit!
I don't really think of singing as work, so if I could find (or sing) someone to pay me for each head that pops into their place of business, or something like that, I'd be on easy street. I could just tell the Rainbooms that I was making the most of my talents. They'd buy that and leave me to it, right?
I guess if I could find a job I didn't mind doing, regular old employment couldn't get me in trouble. Problem is, I don't even know where to start. I've got time to think, but, work that I like? Who likes working? Well, okay, the Apple clan impressed onto me that it's possible to be fetishistically in love with your labor, but you work to be able to afford time in which you don't have to work, right? I don't know.
Whatever I do, I can't live on what we've got left forever, even if I'm the only mouth to feed. Gotta get money from somewhere...