"We should at least tell her, if she's intending to reform Sonata, I haven't a problem with that."
"Yeah, but we're her closest friends! There's GOT to be something wrong if she isn't telling us first!"
"She might've been lied to too, the Dazzlings sending Sonata to infiltrate-"
"Alright, y'all." Applejack rapped her fist on the table she had shifted into the barn. The Rainbooms, excluding Sunset Shimmer, were gathered around said table. Clearing her throat, she bent over the table and spoke, occasionally shifting her gaze from one Rainboom to the other to ensure attention was paid.
"We know she ain't tellin' us nothin' bout her current plans an' all, but that don't mean she got magicked or tricked or whatever'ed by them Dazzlings. It's true that's possible, but what're the chances? Those Dazzlings have no more magic in them, nor is Sunset that many apples short of a bushel to trust so easily. Ah suggest we all go up front tomorrow to ask her about it instead of comin' up with crazy ideas as to what that Dazzling may have dear Sunny under."
"...So you're saying we just walk up to her and ask her about it? Sounds rather direct to me." Rainbow Dash enquired as she noodled on an acoustic guitar Applejack kept in the barn, while the acoustic did not allow for flashy playing, a series of strummed chords courtesy of Rainbow filled the barn as they spoke, keeping the discussion relaxed yet lively instead of tense, as such matters tended to feel.
"Yup, instead of goin' on all skullduggery bout' this, we'll just go up an' settle it, simple. Yer plan of spyin' through Sunset's window just don't work, sugarcube."
"Do you think we should at least give her a call or something?" A comb swept the bouffant yellowish-orange fringe back, its owner using a free hand to slap on foundation, her reflection in the mirror she used slightly blurred by cigarette smoke from the ashtray on the polished mahogany surface of the vanity table.
"It's been two damn weeks, Adagio." Her bitter-faced companion cocked a purple eyebrow. "Her mobile's guaranteed dead. Not like she remembers to charge it despite our reminders. Besides," The purple-skinned girl removed her cigarette from the ashtray to take a drag. "Didn't you want her gone? Why ask about her now?"
Adagio sighed. "Look, Aria. What I've said that day was in a fit of anger. You know how we felt after the Battle, and you'll do well to admit we weren't in full control of ourselves back that night. I never wanted Sonata gone, it was just that I was so afraid-"
"Afraid?" Aria repeated, folding her arms, a smug grin stretching her lips. "Afraid? Huh - Well, I never thought you'd admit that, of all people. I still think she's a burden though."
"I can see why you think that." Adagio slowly began, then moved her chair beside her remaining sister. "I thought that way, and maybe I still do."
"Then why have her back? I see no point or purpose. We're doing decently well now, Adagio, you know that we don't need her."
"Do you remember that we blamed her for our loss?" Adagio asked.
"Umm, yes?"
"And we practically pointed to her as the cause for all our misfortunes?" Adagio continued.
Now Aria was shifting uneasily in her seat. "We both did... But-"
"..-And we both know it, sister." Adagio gently finished for her. "We've all lost our magic, our powers. We're now only Sirens in name, Aria. The only thing that has always linked us back to Equestria is now gone." Brushing her fringe out of her face again, she tilted her head, a small, wry crooked smile on her full orange lips.
"You, me, and Sonata. We were born siblings, associated to each other by blood. Now that the largest part of us that reminded us of home has been destroyed, don't you think all the more we should stick by each other? We only have each other now, no more powers, no more voices. It's obvious you're still hurting, injured over the battle, I can say everyone still is."
Aria kept silent, giving no reply. But she did give a small nod, motioning Adagio to continue.
"It was easy to see that Sonata was distraught over the Battle too," She applied lipstick, bright red, and blew a kiss into the mirror, as she always had done for as long as they used to sing, now, however, the act was not one of confidence and anticipation, instead, it felt heart-wrenchingly bittersweet. Like a reminder of times long gone.
"Yeah," watching as Adagio posed in the mirror, another vain habit of hers, Aria raised a palm in rebuttal. "But like you said yourself, all three of us felt the same then. It could've took her a little bit of self-restraint not to push us over the edge."
"Into each life some rain must fall, Ria." Adagio's voice cracked, but she held. "But that doesn't give us reason to vent it all so aggressively on someone, let alone throw her out and leave her wandering the dark, cold streets. We only moved here a month ago, imagine Sonata trying to find her way around for the past fortnight or so. Besides," Her eyes grew guilty, her sad smile following, she chuckled. "I don't really remember her getting herself thrown out, aside for that nickname."
"I understand." That was all the purple Siren said, though Adagio knew to detect the slight hint of regret present.
Taking in a slow breath as she touched up on her eye-shadow, she decided to conclude before the announcer came backstage.
"We're going to get her back, Aria. I don't know about you, sis, but I'd really want all three of us to stick together after all of this. For Sombra's sake, don't pick on her too much then."
"Ugh, I guess I have been hard on her, huh."
"That's putting it mildly, Ria." Her Siren sister playfully chided.
"Okay, whatever. Maybe I HAVE been too hard on her."
"That's more like it, good girl, Ria Blazey!"
"Oh, shut up, you."
"After tonight, we'll take some leave from this bar to look for Sonata." Adagio now turned contemplative. "We have a good chunk of money from all these years, so we should tide by for a good bit." Convinced that Aria had heard, judging from her surly nod, Adagio got up to answer a knock from the door. Moments later, the door opened to reveal a squat mustachioed man in a suit and tie.
"I'll take it that you both are ready?" The man asked with raised, well-cut brows, clasping his hands together.
"Yes, sir, all done."
"Alright then! Tonight's a little less crowded, so you two could play out the more uh.. Mellow stuff?"
The sisters looked at each other, and nodded. "No swingin' jazz tonight, huh?" Aria piped up.
"That's right, something a little slower would be perfect."
"Sure thing, sir."
"All the best, ladies!" The man smiled before taking both their hands in his. When they emerged from backstage, soft, polite applause pattered through the old bar. Built in the 1920s, the bar had stood the test of time, the big bands and jazz ensembles that had played there enduring every music fad that had threatened to throw them into obsolence.
Both sisters smiled and bowed before moving into position. Adagio at the piano, and Aria stood to her near back, violin tuned and bow rosined and poised. The hot spotlight swung into position, capturing both Sirens in its gaudy, bright glow.
"We won't be back for some time, Ria." Whispered Adagio, facing the piano to thump a few notes. "Let us put our decades of playing experience into this as best as we can this night." With that, she turned and flashed a smile.
Aria subtly nodded, her own smile as guilty as her sister's. As the pair usually improvised their music, Aria resolved to dedicate the night's performance to Sonata, a performance in apology for her mistreatment and abuse. Although they both had shown disapproval and only insulted Sonata's actions, the three sisters shared a familial love deep down, despite the constant squabbling and infighting.
Adagio began the piece, her experience seeing her hands flutter and flit over the yellowed old ivory keys. Such was the skill with which she played, that she allowed her mind to wander just as the pulling of Aria's violin cut through her mix.
She hoped, she hoped that Sonata would be easy to find, or at least in a good enough physical and mental state. Her smile slowly fading unnoticed to the audience members, her heart began to fill with worry over their youngest and most naive sister.