//------------------------------// // a // Story: Haunted Wasteland // by forbloodysummer //------------------------------// “I’m his mid-life crisis.” These things happened, Spitfire supposed; there was no point being coy about it. Some ponies tried to find their youth again through trendy clothes or dangerous lifestyles, and others went for younger partners. She had never seen it so openly celebrated before, though, like Sonata was actually proud of it. Not many would take pleasure in being someone’s crisis. And yet she did, like a badge of honour. Never had something so cynical sounded so sweet. Brows drawing down whilst trying to puzzle it out, Spitfire admitted, “I’m genuinely not sure if that’s romantic or not.” If anything, Sonata looked even happier at that. Although it was anypony’s guess whether that was because a pony interviewing her had said something nice about her, or because Sonata had succeeded in confusing that pony. Where did Spitfire go from there? Asking how long they’d been together? Potential foal names? She only narrowly managed to avoid a shiver at that thought. She was spared from deciding by Starlight scoffing at the back of the room. “Romance is debatable,” she said, prompting Sonata to sneer at her. Clearly for Spitfire’s benefit, Starlight explained, “He was married, until she came along.” “He’s still married!” Princess Twilight said from beside Spitfire, drawing all eyes with her first contribution since conquering her anger with silence. “He can’t divorce her,” Sonata shrugged, totally unperturbed by the princess’ strength of feeling on the matter, “it’s some legal thing.” Poor Silver Tongue – and what a strange feeling that was, sympathy for a high-price lawyer – suddenly found three ponies looking to him for an explanation, while Sonata yawned daintily with a hoof over her mouth. He cleared his throat. “There are some confidentiality privileges involved, so let’s just leave it as ‘some legal thing.’ ” He looked at each of the interviewers in turn, giving each a firm smile. Spitfire took it to mean that he hoped they would be satisfied with his answer, because he wasn’t going to elaborate. Surprisingly, that suggested he still thought he had some control over the situation. Spitfire almost chuckled at the idea. And as Silver Tongue really should have already learned that afternoon, Sonata would do whatever she wanted, whether he liked it or not, and had no such restraint when it came to sharing personal details. “He stopped loving Spoiled Bitch a long time ago; she’s a trophy wife turned sour, and she needed replacing.” Was that the cutthroat social circle Sonata was used to inhabiting? It might explain a lot. But even the Canterlot elite, to Spitfire’s knowledge, were never so blunt about such matters. “But she gets to keep living in the house, and he lives with me in the penthouse he bought me.” That wasn’t so bad then, possibly? “I see,” Spitfire said, acknowledging what Sonata had said without any implication of commenting on it. Oh, if Soarin could see her now, using actual tact and diplomacy! Shifting to the next harmless question, she said, “How did you two meet?” Sonata did the usual thing happy couples do when you ask them that question, smiling as she looked up and to one side casting her mind back. “Aria laughed when I said I wanted to make my own money instead of just taking Adagio’s, like her, but I showed her!” Spitfire had been listening to and taking in every word, but the mentioning of the other two sirens’ names made her sharpen her focus to remember every detail of what Sonata said about them. “I found the richest stallion in Ponyville and seduced him,” Sonata continued, “so now I’m independent.” I'm just going to leave that without comment. “So he brings the money,” Spitfire said, “and you bring...?” “He has a great wallet, I have a great flank; I don’t really see the difference.” It wasn’t like one was head-over-hooves in love and the other was just in it for less noble reasons, so nopony was likely to be hurt over it. Perhaps love might even grow with time? Even without, Spitfire could see the advantages to such an understanding, and what went on between two ponies was none of her business anyway. Twilight clearly did not feel the same way. “My sister-in-law needs to pay you two a visit,” she growled. “I don’t think so,” Sonata snapped, changing mood in a heartbeat, as if Spitfire hadn’t been reaching out to her by asking about her relationship. Had all that work just been undone? Thanks, Princess. Of course Spitfire showed no outward sign of her frustration, contenting herself with shifting in her seat so she reclined a little more, and waiting to see where the conversation would go and when the next opportunity to get useful information from Sonata might come up. “Maybe my sister-in-law needs to pay you two a visit,” Sonata said, looking between the princess and Starlight. Was that just a childish response from her, turning the statement around? Or was there more to it? Maybe Starlight shared Spitfire’s frustration with resetting Sonata’s mood when they might have been heading towards progress, because she took up questioning Sonata in the same fashion where Spitfire had left off. “They are your sisters, then, the other two sirens?” Impressively, she’d cut to useful information far more directly than Spitfire had managed. Not bad at all. “Uh,” Sonata blushed, and for the first time she might actually have been on the back hoof in their exchanges, “no.” A second later, she added, “And technically neither of them are married, either.” From Starlight’s question, Spitfire was beginning to appreciate how little ponies appeared to know about any of the sirens. She needed to get a full briefing soon on everything they did know, having jumped into the assignment blind. But she had to admire how firmly Twilight believed in friendship and forgiveness to let one of the sirens live in Ponyville, despite knowing barely anything about them. Sonata continued, “Though I sometimes think of them as my sisters, even if they’re not.” The tiny shrug she gave said she knew it was silly, but also harmless. Fleetfoot and Soarin’s faces came to Spitfire’s mind. She could relate. Not all families were bound by blood. She crossed her rear hooves in front of her, relaxing, but not too much so with the princess next to her. “I spoke to Miss Cheerilee,” Starlight said, “at the school, about you today.” So that was where Starlight had disappeared to for an hour. Spitfire had hoped that at least one of their number had managed to escape going without lunch, but unless Starlight had grabbed something on the way, they must all have been in the same boat. Starlight said, “She said Diamond Tiara talks about you like you’re her big sister.” Who? Spitfire kept quiet and hoped that context would make the answer clear soon enough, folding her forehooves in her lap while waiting for the response. Sonata rolled her eyes. “At first she was all like,” – Sonata put on a deliberately-stupid sneering foal’s voice – “ ‘Daddy, if you wanted someone evil, how could you choose a henchpony and not an overlord?’ ” That answered the question of who Diamond Tiara was, then. Sonata looked both indignant and despairing, shaking of her head and quietly huffing to herself. “But then she kinda realised how much nicer an evil siren is than her own mom.” The trophy wife gone sour? Spitfire could believe that. Though of course they’d only heard Sonata’s side of it, which was as unreliable as sides came. “Now I can’t get rid of her,” Sonata said, throwing her hooves up. “She’s just this annoying, half-good underling who follows me around and –” Sonata gasped, her conversation stopping in its tracks. “OMG, this is how Adagio must have felt!” Her wide-eyed gaze quickly swept across all the ponies in the room, even Silver Tongue, who’d otherwise been mostly forgotten. Her head quivered from side to side, and with her mouth hanging open her cheeks shook with each movement. “Look, I’m epiphanising!” It was hard to be sure, with how the meaning of the last couple of sentences could only really be guessed at by somepony unfamiliar with the history Sonata referred to, but Spitfire thought she picked up on an admission in there. She shifted forwards in her chair so fast she almost dove off it, leaning low over the table on both her forehooves as she brought her muzzle to within a few hoofwidths of Sonata’s. “So you’re saying you’re half-good?” she confirmed, her muscles tightening in the way they usually did on a derby starting line. She stared keenly into Sonata’s eyes, trying to find the truth there, and also challenge her into responding and perhaps revealing something. “No!” Sonata said, but it was much more the denial of a foal caught in the act than the smug, smooth one she’d offered previously. “Well it sounded a lot like that,” Spitfire pushed. “No it didn’t,” Sonata’s petulant side came out further. “You must have heard it wrong.” Starlight answered first, a voice from over Spitfire’s shoulder. “Why not repeat what you said then?” Sitting back down, Spitfire raised her eyebrows at Sonata, waiting for her answer. “No.” Sonata folded her forelegs across her chest, going back to her I’m-better-than-you pose of looking up to one side with her eyes closed. Spitfire sighed. “We’ve already done the bit where you deny everything.” If the cycle started again, how long should they give it before giving up? Sonata was their only lead, but past a certain point they’d have to accept that she just wouldn’t be giving up anything she knew. Was that the time to get Princess Celestia involved, with her centuries of experience with tricky situations? “No we...” Sonata trailed off. Maybe it was that Spitfire’s boredom with going through that bit again showed on her face, when the thing Sonata wanted to see frustration, as she had done so far. “Yeah, we have,” she picked up again. “Bored now.”