//------------------------------// // #2 An Assured Victory // Story: Adagietto L’Amore // by Flame-LoneWolf //------------------------------// “Remember, girls! We want to save the good stuff until our full power has been restored…” … “♪ Oh-whoa-oh, oh-whoa-oh, You didn't know that you fell~! Oh-whoa-oh, oh-whoa-oh… ♪” “Now that you’re under our spell~” ‘This is just way too easy…’ ‘Battle of the Bands’ is hardly very fitting if you asked Adagio. Even ‘Tribulance of the Tryhards’ is rather generous, though it does have a slight ring to it. She can easily “persuade” Principal Long-Legs to change the name. It isn’t like she can say “no”; the irony that her greatest pawn on this board is the counterpart of the eventual dual monarch of her home country doesn’t slip past her one bit, but such a fact sure makes it all the more sweet. It’s hard to deduce whether she was bragging, or complaining at this point. Even she can’t quite come to a sure conclusion. “♪ Blindsided by the beat… Clapping your hands, stomping your feet; you didn't know that you fell~! ♪” And fall they did. The competition has just been one giant joke, and a damn hysterical one at that. Her favorites are probably Triangle Girl and MCs Drops and The Mic- though those two putzes very potentially made her eligible for a hearing aid with that one. “♪ Now you’ve fallen under our spell~! ♪” But in all fairness, Adagio has come to acknowledge a couple of bands that stood out in terms of potential: ‘Trixie and the Blowhards’ has a fairly good rhythm going for them, but their choice of lyrics have no soul put into them whatsoever! Adagio wouldn’t be all too shocked if that egomaniac only created the band to stroke her own ego, but she had to give her points for being able to tame a pair of cohorts who weren't braindead- it’s just too bad they aren’t sirens. “♪ We've got the music— makes you move it, got the song that makes you lose it~! ♪ ♪ We say "jump", you say "how high?" Put your hands up to the sky~! ♪” And those ‘Rainblossoms’- or whatever they’re called- aren’t half bad either, but for The Dazzlings to call them their “main competition” was a stretch. Decent sound, and they’re lyrics were certainly better than the former’s- if you liked that sugarcoated, fru-fru dribble you’d hear in a little girl’s show anyway. Still, their “sync” with one another in the spotlight has a lot to be desired. Especially when it comes to poor ol’ Sunset, but to be fair, who counts cheerleaders and groupies as part of your band anyway? ‘Though they did put on quite a show all things considered, ahaha…’ “♪ Listen to the sound of my voice… Soon you’’ll find you don’t have a choice~ ♪”  If there’s one thing Adagio has to give credit to the two girls currently sharing the stage with her, it’s that they at least maintained perfect back-up harmony with her when it mattered. Otherwise… not so much. “♪ Captured in the web of my song! Soon you’ll all be singing alooooong~!” ‘But yeah, waaaay too easy~’ “J-Just let me clarif— er… “review” this order t-to make sure I have everything correct… s-sir?” “That’s ma’am to you, y’little nitwit!” “P-Pardon me, ma’am! So…” You look down at the mini monitor bolted to the counter, “… One- no, two extra large Senior Veggie burritos… with extra cheese?” You know better than to ask, but… is she planning on dieting, or putting herself in a corn-roll, triple-layer comatose? “A girl’s gotta keep her figure somehow, something a walking bag o’ bones like yourself wouldn’t know, would’ja?” You let out an inaudible sigh, confirming her order on the small screen as she waddles her way to an empty table. “Your first mistake was not passing this place over like everyone else during your jog,” if you can even assume that much. Though if you’re being honest, customers like this tend to be a rarity at ‘Señorita de la Grasa’. Yes, you are fully aware the name sounds like it was sewn together with the help of a free internet translator… You also hold onto a sliver of hope every moment you volunteer for register duty; a miniscule voice in the back of your mind assures you that maybe- juuuust maybe- taking orders at face-value could stave off some of your social anxiety. And as odd as it sounds, you can always feel it growing worse. When you aren’t on the verge of a mondo meltdown, you can always feel their eyes not on you, but through you. Most of the time you never even make eye contact. Them perceiving you—or any of the other employees at the small establishment preparing their gas inducing gruel—as a human being is a bit of a stretch. All as well, you figure. Business is business, but it never seems to boom quite like it did a few blocks down anyhow. Your icy-blue gaze wanders directly ahead, tracing the many groups of characters strolling past the front window- namely teenagers you recognize heading towards their usual hangout, the ‘Sugarcube Cafe’. You lean the weight of your head against your palm as you continue to stare. If they’re only just coming from the school building this late in the afternoon, there isn’t a doubt in your mind that this whole ‘Battle of the Bands’  thing has something to do with it. It’s stating the obvious by this point, but it’s still the only word of mouth you hear anyone angrily grunt at each other about all week. Quite literally actually. It’s partially understandable as of today, since tonight’s apparently the big finale. And good riddance! The sooner everything can just go back to being just slightly less angsty around these meme-ridden parts, the better. You raise up slightly due to your vision being attacked by a flurry of orange. Confirming your “giant cheesepuff” suspicions to be incorrect, you take note of the three all too familiar trio sauntering their way past the building. The one with the ponytail somewhat lags behind to window-shop, as per usual these past few days. Were they sisters? Maybe they each come from a different parent, otherwise they must have one colorful gene pool. Maybe all this mumbo-jumbo is their idea, but hell knows how they could possibly manage to sway the entire C.H.S faculty, especially after having just transferred. You knew it’s rather cynical to point out the new students right off the bat, but those three stand out like a sore thumb- and not just because they look as though they walked straight off the set of an 80’s music video. Especially the redhead up front, oozing confidence with every step she takes. As much as you hate to admit it, the first time the two of you locked eyes has left a slight impression on you. It’s not something you’re all too proud of exactly, so you pray it’ll fade in due time. Time usually does that, eventually… Um… …You come back to reality a deer in headlights, only able to watch in horror as the ponytailed girl smushes her cheeks against the window. You’re never even left with a chance to question if what you’re seeing is real. Your pupils reduce to pinpricks, her tongue hungrily lapping against the glass like a starving puppy. You quickly realize that her eyes aren’t pointed at you, but instead the Mexican-themed treats a blissfully ignorant old couple are enjoying. You are severely under-trained to deal with a situation like this. Are you supposed to run out there with a broom and shoo her off? Call the police? Does this even count as vandalism of store property? …Sexual harassment of food products? All these questions and more interrogate your thoughts until you catch two pairs of hands yank her out of sight. …Is this enough of an excuse to garner an early smoke break…? “...Y’know, if someone were to walk in and see this right now, they’d probably guess that we were raised in a world with a monarchy run by barn animals… on their first try.” Raspberry orbs lay half-lid, inspecting every nook and cranny of the small apartment; a trio of colorful dented cans were left lazily huddled around the can they should be laying in themselves, the repugnant stench of a bag of what used to house pork rinds catches the attention of her nose. And dying the pigment of the living room rug orange in an army of crumbs, not four feet from her boots was the remains of… cheese puffs. She came close to painting what she had for lunch an hour ago onto the remaining canvas. Clatters of rearranging refreshments and leftover takeout journey from the kitchen, only a glance away as a blue ponytail pokes its tail-end from behind the gaping fridge door. The other end of the apartment sports a couch hardly wide enough to seat three sirens, yet Aria alone occupied the remaining spots with her legs; the lights and sounds emitting from the small television change brightness and pitch with every click of the small remote in her fingers, leaving a steady atmosphere unable to stick in the room for long. Despite the indecisiveness, her deadpan stare—partially hidden behind purple strands normally pulled into a ponytail—kept fixated on the illuminated glass screen. “Ahem.” Aria’s gaze remains unshaken from the screen, the only response from her facial features coming off through a tired snort. “Oh yeah, ‘I forgot that we had a whole guest list of people to impress with our cozy little shithole— I mean, abode. Who’s coming over today? Admirers? Boytoys?” Her cold mulberry spheres roll to face Adagio’s own scowl. “Friends? Why don’t we just invite the whole family for a good ol’ grill-off while we’re at it?” Adagio admits to herself that the last one tickled a nerve, but her glare remains stern. “Dodge the subject all you want, Blaze, but it’s your turn to pick up this mess. Or are you preoccupied with the same twenty stations at the moment? I swear I’m the only one who actually doesn’t like to swim in garbage around here! Is it so much to ask that this place doesn’t smell like rancid ground beef and sweaty feet—…” Aria raises a single brow. “Uuum, today’s your turn to clean up around here—” “—and I don’t care if you are tired from cramming that lisp-girl into a locker, just do your damn— Er… come again?” “It’s friday.”  the purple punk stated woodenly. “I had cleaning duty last sunday, and tuesday’s turn was assigned to the fatass likely devouring our entire fridge right about now—” “Um, like, I can hear you, emo eyeliner!”  “Yeah? And I don’t need super siren senses to smell your tear gas and chilli farts from a block away, you juvenile ass blaster!” Tuning her two roommates out to look around the apartment once more, Adagio came to a different mindset as her stomach began to churn  Considering her options, she finally came to the most dignified choice, “…On second thought, we need to be backstage by a couple of hours anyway, right? Move over~” “And you wonder why nothing ever gets done around here…” Aria sighs, making enough legroom for an extra seat. “What d’ya call what we’ve been getting done all week with those twerps at C.H.S then? Soon, we won’t even need to clean anything for ourselves~!” Adagio plops down on the couch with a triumphant smirk, resting her crossed legs atop the lap of her partner in chime. “Though looking around this dump, I guess pigtails really do suit you well now that I think about it, haha…” The currently hair-down Aria couldn’t help but purse her lips at Adagio’s attempt at humor, as she began to rest her eyes. “Y’know, I’d probably sock you one in the mouth right about now if I weren’t used to you being such a colossal bitch.” Adagio can’t help but let out a small chuckle at that. ‘Is that really her excuse?’ The more she thought about it, she couldn’t help but find it a tad endearing that she was crossed off Aria’s list, simply thanks to getting used to Adagio’s attitude. Maybe she’s been in a fairly good mood with things finally going her way—now that Equestrian magic was almost in her grasp—but the word that kept ringing and invading Adagio’s head was akin to ‘sisterly’… “D’awwww! Like, so cuuuute~!” Despite the gushing coming from the “blue haired bimbo”’s lips, Aria’s features remain soft as she partway peaks past a single eyelid at her colleague. “Zip it, worst.” “I vote movie night!” Sonata exclaims, drowning out the “grumpy goth”’s retort. “We won’t even be here when it’s night, remember?” Adagio scolds her straight-faced, a twinge of worry coiling around her stomach as she ponders if the ball of spaz really did forget. “We shouldn’t be wasting too much time before our set begins anyway—” “Then we’ll make it a quick one! Preeeeetty puh-leeease, ‘Dagi?” All eyes are on Adagio, and for once she could do without. “Fine, but you’d both better have your A-games ready tonight, capiche?” “Yay! Scoot your patoots, because I know the bestest channel to watch a movie!” The two girls complied, making room for Sonata’s bouncy collision with the couch cushion. “Preeeetty sure it was channel nine…”  Aria’s expression isn’t unlike witnessing a ghost playing cards with Jigsaw. “We… We don’t have that channel. It’s literally just static…” A few minutes fly by before finally settling on a cheesy action-thriller that somehow manages to capture the attention of everyone but Adagio. She could catch and pinpoint every childish trope and cliche mile away, but kept it to herself as not to ruin their fun. Adagio figures it  simply came with being accustomed to this world… “Pssst. Adagio.” “Aria, everyone in this room could hear a flipping tack drop. In a crowd. Onto carpet.” “Okay, okay, I get it!” A small tint of rose nestles over her cheeks before deciding to press on. “So, can I ask ya somethin’?” “It’s never stopped you before.” Adagio smirks, her sadistic nature revealing itself in the form of button pushing. “Alright, Lil’ Miss Sassafras,” Aria groans, “… Soooo… My question…” “Yeeess?” Patience is a virtue… “So… What exactly are we going to do after all of this?” “You’d better be talking about the movie,” a hint of poison seeps into her voice, “Because if you’re starting to get cold fins after we’ve gotten this far…” Aria can’t help but roll her eyes, “Of course not, now answer the damn question.” “We rule this putrid world, isn’t it obvious?” “Uh huh,” Aria takes her turn with the pushing, “And then what?” “We use the Equestrian magic to get out of this ape-infested dump!” “And then what…?” Both girl’s hearts lightly jump, turning to face the third member on the couch they’d forgotten about on the seat for three. Neither decided to address the elephant; the question of when did a bowl of popcorn sneak onto Sonata’s lap…? Adagio feels her jaw tighten, a growing sense of betrayal staking into her heart. “Both of you can do whatever in bloody Tartarus you want by then for all I care, but I’ll be busy paying Starswirl everything he owes us! Me!” Hurt visibly forms in Sonata’s red jems at her surrogate sis’s answer, the cynicism triggering a brow to involuntarily raise by Aria. “Adagio, you do realise how long it’s been… right? As much as I hate to say it, no doubt the bastard’s long gone by no—” “You think I don’t know that?! We’ve been trapped here for nearly A MILLENNIA for Discord’s sake! I don’t care who it has to be, SOMEBODY will pay!” Wide eye’d, it finally begins to creep in for the two as to just how long they’ve been prisoners in their own skin. And whatever pain and anguish their damaged pride delivered them, Adagio’s lay shoddily taped together like a broken mirror, requiring but a meek breeze to send it all crumbling back down. “Look, let’s just finish this stupid movie and get ready to head to the ‘Battle of the Bands’. The sooner the better…” Aria and Sonata share a quick look, mirroring one another in an unsure shrug of supposed agreement before turning back to the TV, anything but the movie still running through their minds. Rage slowly giving way to a hefty sigh, a pang of determination was surging through Adagio’s being, rivalling the rush she’s received from the millenia of absorbing magic from her victims—a food source and nothing more. Though cleaning duty would be a thing of the past after today, the trio of dented cans still bore deep in the back of her skull. “Augh, bad Snowball! Friggin’ nasty…” You know you shouldn’t blame the poofball of pure white for doing what nature intended of him—not that the chestnut in his feline noggin ever recorded the memories of former scoldings—but cleaning bloodied, mutilated rodents from the carpet every few weeks ventures beyond the point of “old”. Scrubbing out the remains of the murder scene as best as you could, you can’t help but sigh at the purring ball of death and destruction, only hoping the little homewrecker moved up his tongue bath schedule for your own convenience. A creature whose fur was the perfect canvas for red-dyed paws and maws doesn’t exactly make it easy to sense any companionship Or maybe that’s because he’s a fucking cat… But you’re fairly certain your apartment complex doesn’t allow for anything bigger.. Still a hint of pink on the otherwise alabaster carpet, you decide to celebrate your empty victory with a smoke and tunes as you closed the front door behind you. The chilly air engulfs you, taking no time at all to dance along your bare ivory skin. You can’t help but relax now that the wet, humid season is finally over. Even without a jacket, you always manage to bask in and tolerate what many consider freezing, though equivalent exchange demands the opposite be true for warm weather. “Summer bites dick anyway, so who’s complaining,” you chuckle at your own hypocrisy, taking a long, rewarding drag of the lit cancer stick, the aroma of smoke wafting into the Autumn breeze. Your eyes unconsciously drink in the fading traces of red and orange painted along the darkening sky, becoming fainter once the moon persists itself further through the sky. … Welp, your mind can’t help but wander to the place nearly every one of your peers currently occupied. But really, you knew from the start the ‘Battle of the Bands’ had nothing to offer you. You hardly snuck by through a locke rroom hallway, so the thought of being caught in a mosh pit is straight out of your book of nightmares. You doubt any of the bands playing right now could match your tastes, and not to mention you aren’t talented enough to play in a band to begin with, had you entered. Even if the minimum entrance was as low as one member, you didn’t see it possible doing it without friends. Not that you didn’t have any friends… Apart from in the real world anyway. The internet, however, was a slightly different story, emphasis on “slightly”. But hell, it’s all you needed, or at least it’s what you told yourself… …  … Welp, fuck it. A walk through town can’t do you any harm at this point. You were already outside, and any excuse to listen to more music was good enough for you. At the very least you can catch some grub during the after party—and the only one you’ll ever have the chance to attend. Might as well rip it off like a bandaid now, rather than… y’know, having a bandaid stuck to your skin, forever… … …Maybe you were hungrier than you thought.  The final fleeting fireworks pop through the air, a teen of fair blue skin strut her way backstage with a triumphant smile. “Try to top that!” Adagio was quick to return with sarcasm, likely defusing any fist-happy urges in Aria in the process. “Oh gosh! I don’t know if we can!” Her hands cut through the laughter of her cohorts, gesturing with ease that it was time to move. ‘Discord be damned I’m good.’ And as a well-timed appetizer to their soon-to-be main course, a delicious mist of green seeped from the trap door below. ‘What was I— er, I mean ‘they’—even worried about? Such a feast that I might have to go on a diet afterwards~!’ … With each slow, sultry step through the clouds of green smoke, they could feel a bass travel up their boots and dance along their bones. All eyes landed on the trio before they even had a chance to harmonize. “♪ Aaaahh~! Ah-ah, aaahh~! ♪” Once their angelic euphony catches the ear of every audience member in awe, the ruby red pendants begin to devour the smoke once engulfing them. The redhead’s vocal cords nearly betrayed her by delivering a blissful sigh, and she was certain she wasn’t alone. ‘This is it…’ “♪ Welcome to the shoooooow… ♪” “♪ Ah-ah-ah-ah, ahh~ ♪” “♪ We’re here to let you knooooow~! ♪” “♪ Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah~ ♪” ‘Everything’s… coming… together…!” “♪ Our time is noooooooow~! ♪“ “♪ Ah-ah-ah-ah, ah~ ♪” “♪ Your time is running oooouuuut~! ♪” A millenia of patience and hunger is finally coming to light with a delectable banquet of victory. An ancient, once untouched void fills to the brim and ready to bursting from her chest. Sound waves themselves bends to their will—her will. The glow of red enveloping leaves her feeling drunk, yet the adrenaline splashing her skin and spine convinces her body that it hasn’t gone numb, keeping her alive, aware, and most of all, rapturous. Her body was lighter than air, and Adagio obtains a feat she always grasped for—one every Siren only daydreamed about since their hatchling days; Adagio’s voice and inner thoughts speak one and the same. “♪ We will be adored; Tell us that you want us! ♪” Adagio’s vision was replaced by an endless red, a warm blanket of light enveloping her very form, creating a lightshow around the stage. “♪ We won’t be ignored; It’s time for our reward~! ♪” Her physical structure began to morph features less, and yet more recognisable to them—more equine. Most of all, her vocal cords now radiate with more strength than limitations previously allow. She knows it’s only the beginning of their power growing too much for their current form, and it wouldn’t be long until the complete rejection of the human bodies they’d grown adjusted to. “♪ Now you need us! Come and heed us! “♪” Adagio was reborn. The confines of the cosmic cocoon crumbles and shatters from their skin, creating room for the fin-like wings sprouted from their shoulder blades. “♪ NOTHING CAN STOP US NOOOOOOW~! ♪”