//------------------------------//
// Coda 
// Story: Getting the Band Back Together 
// by FanOfMostEverything 
//------------------------------//

That evening, Mr. Discord beamed as he stood on his kitchen island, which was to say a chunk of ground floating in the middle of his kitchen that currently supported his stove. "Well, I think this has been a monumentally productive day. I do still plan on taking the rest of the week off, mind you. Aside from any other concerns, I'll have to go post Officer Bodybag's bail before anyone important notices he's not Aria, and Back Alley has two more sets of identification to prepare."

Adagio nodded. She was still adapting to the casual madness found in the den of Discord, but she refused to let any unease show. "Good choice. I've worked with far worse counterfeiters over the centuries."

"Sunset Shimmer recommended him, actually. Of course, these days she's properly registered as a foreign diplomat, or whatever bureaucratic shadow puppetry they're staging this week." Mr. Discord hefted a steaming pot off of the stovetop and walked a dizzying path to the kitchen table, the island crumbling into pebbles that supported his steps. The stove wandered off to chat with several other appliances in another corner of the room.

Mr. Discord upended the pot, sending four bowls flying into place, along with silverware. A casual toss sent pot and colander both into the sink. "This is a treat," he said as he sat. "I don't think this old place has seen dinner for four since before the divorce."

Adagio's jaw dropped. "You were married. You."

He shrugged. "Not for terribly long."

"What is this?" said Aria.

Adagio brought her attention to her own bowl. The surface was mostly beige, with welts of liquid crimson here and there. She gently prodded it with her fork, finding the beige solid, but yielding. A bit more red oozed up from the point of contact. Scent revealed only tomatoes and seasonings. She wasn't sure if that was better or worse than blood.

"Well, when a star doesn't quite collapse into a black hole," Mr. Discord said as Adagio performed her examination, "it produces degenerate matter in all sorts of fascinating shapes, and my colleagues have been kind and wise enough to accept my proposed name of 'nuclear pasta.' There's the spaghetti phase, the lasagna phase, the bucatini phase... but wouldn't you know it, there are some arrangements that just don't line up with any known pasta. Tonight, I tried to close that gap sonewhat." He gestured to his own bowl, stabbed in his fork into it, and pulled off a chunk of pasta shaped like the negative space between more conventional shapes. "Ergo, antignocchi." He ate the forkful with relish and marinara.

Adagio looked at Aria and saw her own expression looking back. That, she knew firsthand, was the look of a siren who had just realized precisely what she'd signed up for and was wondering if it was too late to back out.

"Too experimental?" Both turned to see Mr. Discord wearing a more apologetic expression than Adagio could ever believe Reiipivzheerv could adopt. "I suppose I should've seen that coming, but I felt the need to celebrate, and that means getting creative." He turned to Sonata, who gave him a wide grin, her own Einsiedler-cheese pasta monstrosity also untouched. "And you probably knew I'd have a backup plan."

"You usually do."

"Indeed." Mr. Discord pressed a button on the underside of the table, one that Adagio would bet good money hadn't been there the second before. Panels in the table rotated, sending the sirens' bowls away and revealing...

The next thing Adagio knew, her face felt greasy and she was licking a plate. She blinked, cleared her throat, and set it back down as calmly as she could.

Mr. Discord smiled at the table in general. "I take it you enjoyed the calves' livers, then."

"It wasn't terrible," muttered Aria, her clothes—clearly borrowed from Sonata given the style; Adagio had been to busy scorning the two of them to notice until now—even more stained than Adagio's.

"Very nice," said Adagio, "but don't think you're taking in two more Sonatas. It'll take more than knowing your way around an oven to keep us on board."

"I assure you, I have no illusions about the way to a siren's heart being through her stomach." Mr. Discord's skin flickered through transparency for a moment. "Sonata, tell them how much you make per week."

She did. Aria whistled. Adagio's jaw dropped.

"I assure you, you won't find a better paying lab assistant position anywhere in the world. Mind you, there will be the occasional test where you'll be under the strictly figurative knife, but still." Mr. Discord shrugged, eyed the scalpel he was twirling between his fingers as though he'd just noticed it, and used it to cut into his dinner.

Adagio wrinkled her nose. "I didn't leave the spotlight, small as it was, just to end up a lab rat."

"Can't say I'm crazy about the idea either," said Aria.

"Did I mention that with more of you to study, it's well within the realm of possibility that I could learn enough about how you work to regrow your heartstones?"

That gave Adagio pause. "I... suppose I—"

"Pfft." Aria rolled her eyes. "Then what? You gonna try to take over the world again? 'Cause I'm not helping you there."

"Neither am I," added Sonata.

"Sunset will probably roast your ass before you finish the first verse anyway."

Adagio snarled. "Which is precisely why I don't plan on such overt tactics."

"But you are planning something," Aria said, giving her a flat look. "Seriously, Adagio?"

Sonata shrugged. "She wouldn't be her if she didn't."

"You say that like it'd be a bad thing."

Adagio shot to her feet. "Well what do you expect me to do if we are fully restored?"

Before Aria could answer, Mr. Discord cleared his throat. "Girls, if I may? As Sonata noted, I do try to plan for multiple foreseeable scenarios, and that includes you not being comfortable with being full-time beautiful assistants for the local mad scientist. As luck would have it, there is a most elegant solution that combines Aria's desire to spite authority, Adagio's desire for fame, and Sonata's desire to be with her sisters."

"We're not actually sisters," said Aria.

"As I told Sonata before, consanguinity is not a requirement. She wanted to be with you, to know you were safe and happy, even after you made each other miserable. That's either family or Stockhorse Syndrome. Now, here's my proposal..."





A few weeks later, Aria stared up at the tiles of an unfamiliar ceiling. "Hey, Adagio?"

Adagio rolled her eyes as she made sure everything was ready to go. Mr. Discord had willed this recording studio into being on the second floor of the bungalow—and the fact that Adagio could think that without pausing showed how much she'd adapted—but there was no guarantee there wasn't some unintentional surprise lying in wait. "Aria, we'll be recording as soon as Sonata gets back. You should focus on that."

"I'll make it quick."

Adagio grunted and looked up from her fine tuning. "Fine. What?"

"We split up, but we ended up following Sonata's lead on what to do without our powers," Aria said, still staring up.

"I'm aware, Aria," Adagio deadpanned. "I was there."

Aria turned to her. "Does that make Sonata the smart one?"

A moment of horrified silence passed, each siren seeing the fear in the other's eyes.

"No."

"No."

"Dumb luck."

"The dumbest."

"What are we talking about?" Sonata said as she walked in from the bathroom.

"Nothing," said Aria. "Get your headphones on."

Sonata beamed. "Okay!"

"We are go in three, two..." Adagio hit record and wrapped her voice in velvet. "Hello, world. This is Siren Spell Stories. Sunset Shimmer's vlog may tell you how to use magic responsibly, but we'll be telling you about what happens when you don't."

She grinned and leaned in towards the microphone a little. "Trust me, you're going to adore it."