Daring Do

by GaPJaxie

Morphine, Part 1

Author's Note: Hello everyone! In case you don't read my blog (crazy, I know), there's some bad news. It looks like I'm not going to finish this story. But all is not lost. I wouldn't want to leave you guys hanging as you wait for your ending, so in leu of the full story, please enjoy a collection of pre-written scenes below, along with the authors notes and world-building info. I'll be finishing the series this way over the next few weeks, so Siren gets her happy ending after all.

This chapter continued the theme of Siren attempting to repay her debts to Green by making her happy, and by making friends. Siren is repeatedly thwarted by Green’s refusal to play along, her insistence that she and Siren aren’t friends, and her mistrust of anything given to them by Trixie. In part 1 of Morphine, Siren becomes more determined in this goal, using her new Vultiphine-granted visions to peek into Green’s mind and gain an unfair advantage. At first, she’s largely unsuccessful, but her refusal to give up and strong social skills eventually began to prevail.

The chapter opened with Siren having a vision about Green’s past, when early in her career as one of Trixie’s hitmares, she was ordered to make a point to a reluctant ally by drowning their kitten in front of them. Siren sees that Green feels guilty about it, and has had a soft spot for kittens ever since. Scene 2 picks up when she awakes, in her bedroom.

Daring Do, Chapter 10, Scene 2: “Siren Experiments with Vultiphine.”

My eyes open.

I spend a while staring at the ceiling like that, trying to process everything I just saw. I had no idea that... but, right. Checks first. I lift a hoof in front of my face. Grey-green. So I’m back in my body again. I glance at the clock. Just after five in the afternoon. When I was Green, I remember it being three-something, and I was wearing the same bags Green left with today, so that vision was probably about two hours ago. She’ll be home soon.

Right. Right.

My head is swimming from everything that just happened, but I make myself get up. The headboard is still broken, so I swing my hind legs out over the edge of the mattress, and awkwardly roll over and turn until they hit the floor. It’s less sitting up and more oozing out of bed, and the motion twists my necklace up around my neck until it’s choking me a little. But I squirm, and loosen it a bit, and manage to stand up even if I do stumble a bit. I don’t know if it’s the vultiphine or the vision or my low blood pressure, but the room seems twisty and... off.

No matter. I shake my head to clear it, and then sharply apply a hoof to my right cheek. Literally slapping some sense into yourself is probably not the best way to deal with disorientation, but it clears my head for now. I’ll take a nap later or something. I spend a moment more to push back my bed mane and straighten out the necklace cord, and then it’s off to the chest at the foot of the bed to get my vision journal.

It’s not really a journal so much as a few loose scraps of paper. I couldn’t afford a proper book, and besides, the loose paper is easier to hide from Green—or to quickly destroy if it comes to that. Right now, it’s just three pages: one for visions in general, one for Green, and one for Golden Palm. I pick up the general page first, and the pen, and review what I have.

Visions in General:

Vultiphine is the special ingrediant. (Just Morphine+Heart’s Desire? Why don’t painkillers or mantles trigger visions? Is the combination important? What about markers on painkillers? Does it only work for me + Rarity? If so, why?)

To those who seek the truth are all truths revealed. (Has to be something I actually want to know. Implies that openness to learning unpleasant truths very important to make it useful. Need to work on this.)

Vultiphine visions seem “rawer” than Rarity’s tea. Can’t always make it happen. Sometimes happens on its own. Less clear when the vision starts and ends. Sometimes disoriented or confused about who/where/when I am. (Tea is refined formula?)

Need to be in the same area as a pony to look into their heads. Harder to look into strangers minds than Green/GP.

Can read minds when looking at somepony through a wiredoll, but can’t read their minds when they’re in a wiredoll talking to me. (Means I can’t read Trixie’s mind. Is that why she only appears via doll?)

When I’m done reading, I levitate my necklace off, and place it on the desk next to the paper. It’s made from a length of cheap twine and a tiny metal clasp I found in the kitchen, currently gripping a lock of Green’s tail hair. I got them when we went to the barber yesterday. Not for creepy reasons though. I noticed that my visions of Green seemed a lot clearer when I was around her stuff, so it was a reasonable theory to test.

I suppose I could have used shower drain hair instead, but that seems gross. Her tail hair is so much brighter. And it’s soft like a brush.

Can read minds at a distance with hair sample, I add to the page. I pause a moment, tap the back end of the pen twice on the desk, and continue: (Might work with other bits? Why didn’t Rarity take a hair sample from me? Obvs cannot spy on me now. Does it only work with Green/Gold? Do I count as a ‘stranger’ to Rarity?)

I’m certainly not a stranger to Rarity, but this is a bizarre sort of magic, and I don’t know if ‘stranger’ is even the right term. For all I know, this power only works on ponies who really like you, which is why I can only read Green and Golden’s thoughts. Or maybe it’s simpler than that; something like ponies you’re around on a regular basis.

I mull that over for a while longer, chewing on the pen cap a bit, but I don’t get much further than I did this morning. I learned something new about the how of these visions, but the why is still throwing me, and I don’t think I have the information to figure it out now. So I put that paper aside, and pull Green’s over.

Green Apple:

Honest and loyal friend. (Super in denial about this.)

Kind of proud and vain. (But not in a bad way)

Acts tough but actually really insecure. (Inferiority complex? Important to remember she’s been jumping from crisis to crisis her whole life. Farm, then Rarity, then Trixie. Never had a chance to feel good about herself.)

Regrets taking mantles. (Angry she won’t get the chance at a long life? Or angry at herself?)

Convinced she’s a monster. (Rarity’s fault, but I’m sure Trixie made it worse on purpose to make her easier to push around.)

Afraid of going insane/mutating. (Not afraid of death. Doesn’t want to lose who she is.)

It’s a pretty sparse list, now that I look it over. I’ve seen characters in high school plays with more detailed descriptions. But, that’s why I’m doing my research. I can’t make her feel better—really feel better—until I understand her. So I pick up the pen, and write:

Empathetic but burnt out. (Felt bad for Shooting Star during job but suppressed it pretty well.)

Feels wistful around foals.

That’s a good start, but I’m sure I must have gotten more out of the vision than just that. I think that over for a while more, rolling the pen cap between my teeth. Then I add: (Good with foals? Regrets not having children herself? Older mare. Still pining over lost love.) I also underline “burnt out” and “Feel good about herself.” That seems like the right emphasis.

So uh... other things then. Doesn't like how much she sweats. But I think that’s just because it reminds her of the mutation thing. I remember smelling coffee and thinking it smelled nice—which feels odd to think, the stuff is wretched—so I guess she likes bitter drinks. Her stump itched a lot. She was hungry. I think she’s still having trouble keeping food down.

And... what else?

I don’t realize I’ve drifted off until I catch myself making a little doodle of Green’s family farm in the margins of the page. It had a really oddly shaped barn, and that weathervane on top where Feather Fall got stuck when they were little, and... and whatever. I scratch it out with two quick marks. Green is going to be home in an hour or two, and I don’t see how any of this helps make her better! All I’ve done today is laze around the apartment, get high, and eat food I didn’t do anything to earn. Green doesn’t think I’m a parasite. I’ve been in her head. I know that. But it’s only because she likes me so much.

She wouldn't like me if I was somepony else.

That’s ah... well, it’s kind of a silly thought. Wouldn't like me if I was somepony else. I might as well say that bad food might taste good if it was other food. So I focus back on what I have. The potential is there, I’m sure of it. This information does help me help Green, somehow, if only I can think of how. I just... need to do something!

Needs to feel good about herself. Regrets. Vain. Empathetic. Probably wishes she’d had foals when she was younger. I can do something with this. I can. I just need to think.

---

“You got us a cat?” Green asks, her lips pulling back and eyes narrowing as she looks at the box. Okay, not a great first reaction, but I can still salvage this. Inside, Mr. Scruffles puts his paws up on the cardboard, letting out a high-pitched mew as he tries to climb out. He’s orange and striped, still small enough his tail is a little stub and his claws scrape on the cardboard. It’s totally adorable, which should help.

“Not a cat—a kitten!” I say, with all the bright cheer in the world. I can’t show a hint of uncertainty or she’ll pounce. I need to remember I’m not Siren Song anymore. Siren was a weak-kneed little foal who had to go hide behind Green’s dress at the first side of danger. I’m Sea Change now! Green can frown all she likes. I can stand up for myself. “I went down to the Fluttershy’s Home for Wayward Animals up the street. They were going to have to put him down soon anyway, so they said I could take him, and gave me a little bag of catfood, a litterbox, and stuff.”

I look into Green’s eyes, but when I recite the little mantra and try to read her mind, nothing happens. It’s no matter though—I can still read her expression the old fashioned way. She’s skeptical, of course, but then I expected her to be skeptical at this stage. I just need her to accept the premise, and then bit by bit, this cute little guy will work his way into her heart. It’s a small thing, but I know it’ll make her feel better. Feel adored. Cats can be aloof but this guy is really friendly.

“I uh... I loved cats back in Canterlot.” It’s a lie of course, but she’ll never know it without well I’m selling it. Slight drop in the tone, a faint nod of the head, a tension in the tail but not an outright change in angle. It all hints that I’m revealing something deeply personal—opening my heart to her and trusting her. “But the Princess can’t stand them. She says they’re disobedient.” And Lie #2. But the awful tyrant calling a creature disobedient should instantly endear it to Green. “I thought that now that I’m here, and on my own, it was time to break away from her.”

I pause, but Green doesn’t say anything into the silence. I can tell she’s mulling it over. Her grimace has drawn back into a neutral expression—a poker face made up of level eyes and a mouth drawn into a line. She’ll never admit that she likes the idea, but she’s not a good enough liar to keep up a grimace she isn’t feeling. That’s proof plenty. “Um...” Finally, I speak again. “Would you like to help me take care of him?”

Green still doesn’t answer for a moment, but then she nods. “Yes, Sea Change,” she says, “I would like to help you take care of that kitten. May I see her for a moment?”

“Sure!” I say, floating the box over. Green ignores it, levitating Mr. Scruffles out directly. He struggles in mid air, confused by the magic, his little claws stretched out every which way looking for ground. “It’s not a her though, it’s a him. I was going to name him... Green?” She steps across the kitchen. Pulls open the trash chute. “Green what are you...”

“...doing,” I finish, lamely, after the trash chute door snaps shut.

Then Green turns around, lifts a hoof, and slaps me hard across the face. She’s wearing horseshoes, so I know it’ll bruise, but I don’t make a sound. I don’t flinch.

Author's Note: The chapter built up, as Siren tried and failed repeatedly, but each time learned from her mistakes and tries again. Eventually, with some advice from Golden Palm, she starts to achieve success, and Scene 11 ends the chapter as Siren takes Green out for lunch.

Daring Do, Chapter 10, Scene 11: “Siren Possesses Green’s Heart”

I catch Green’s eye from across the table, and smile at her. Not a big smile, not a grin, nothing that would look fake—just a little smile. Something to inject a bit of cheer into the air and let her know that I’m ready to talk whenever she wants too. Breaking the silence would be too forward, but I can be here for her when she’s ready. She doesn’t smile back, but I know she saw it. That cheered her up a bit. She’ll talk when she’s ready.

So I take another bite of my hayburger, and I wait.

The restaurant is nothing to speak of—average is the way I’d put it. A little cafe that serves reasonable food at reasonable prices reasonably quickly. It’s not dingy, but the owner hasn’t made a real effort to keep up the inside. The neighborhood isn’t great, but I’m not afraid we’ll get mugged. More practically, it’s as nice as I dared shoot for. I wanted Green to have a nice time, but too nice and I know she’ll freak out. This is probably the first meal she’s eaten in years that wasn’t a pile of oats, scarfed down in that horrible apartment.

That’s probably why she looks so tense. Eating in silence, always looking over her shoulder at the other diners or checking her bags. Being happy is a skill. You learn it by doing, and you can forget if you don’t do it for too long. That’s what Green did. I don’t think she seriously expects us to be attacked or mugged or whatever, but she’s so used to being afraid she doesn’t know how to relax.

But that’s okay. She’ll learn. That’s why I picked this place. Green loved this sort of cheap faire when she first arrived in Vision, and I know she associates the taste with happier times. Easing her into it. So I tilt my ears at her to show amusement, and then turn my head, looking out onto the street to watch ponies go by.

I think that I’ve finally gotten the feel of Vision. Gotten my sea legs for it, as it were. And I don’t just mean the practical things like using “Rider’s ghost,” in conversation or being able to navigate through a crowd. I mean its spirit. Its expectations. It’s cruel, yes, but it isn’t arbitrary. A pony can do well here, if they swallow their dignity and work hard and make good choices. That’s what I didn’t get when I arrived here. I was so selfish and petty and, well, Green was right to call me a spoiled brat. But I’m learning. It’s about focusing on the goal. Doing whatever it takes to achieve your objectives.

It’s like Green. Like this. Going out to a bland cafe and eating food that tastes like paper isn’t really my idea of a good time, but it’s what Green needs right now. And if my goal is to make her happy, then this is what I need right now. And once I accept that, it wasn’t so bad. That thought makes me smile again, and I glance back at her. Yeah, she’s loosening up a bit. I nudge the rest of my fries her way, and the mumbles her thanks.

This is better. Better for me, better for Green. And I’m better. Better than I was. Better than Luna thought I could be. And better than Rarity. I was always better than Rarity. The great artist of Vision, with all her power and all her skill, and here I am, doing what she could never do. And all it took was a few kind words and a sandwich.

That’s what Rarity never understood. If you want ponies to adore you, you don’t have to build a shining Pavilion under the sea. You just have to make them think they’re worth a wooden bit.

It’s kind of like friendship, actually. You don’t really do anything but ponies love you because it’s magic. Yeah. It is like that.

I bet Princess Celestia would be proud of me.

“Excuse me.” I jump as a voice cuts into my reverie, and my head quickly whirls to the source. It’s the mare from earlier—a lime-green pegasus with a slight frame and a close cropped mane and a big puffy tail that looks all wrong for her size. She’s clutching the record case with one leg, nervously looking between us. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she says, fixing Green with one of the stiffest smiles I’ve ever seen. “But are you uh... Envy?”

Green has a better poker face than the mare, and she smile she offers looks almost genuine. “Who wants to know?” Her horn glows as she pretends to take a hold of her burger, but I can see another red aura under the table. I know she carries a heavy chopping blade in that bag. Already, her ears are turning back. Not folding back, turning. It’s an instinct, one I doubt she’s fully conscious of. She’s trying to hear if she’s surrounded. Little things like that are important for reading ponies.

Still, I’m pretty sure Green won’t kill this mare.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the mare stammers. “I know you’re busy and... well, it’s been forever, but uh... well. If it’s not too much trouble.” She sharply thrusts the record case forward, and the sudden motion almost costs her her life. I can see Green yank on the knife, and its edge leaves her bag, but she hasn’t finished drawing it before she sees the top of the case. “Would you sign this?” the mare blurts the words out, all in one big blob.

Green freezes, locked in place with a stupid expression on her face. The top of the record case is faded and cracked, but she’s still clearly recognizable. It shows her mid-strut, a gleeful grin on her face as she trots through a dingy stone corridor. Unlike the posters and advertisements around us, this one plays up how many cutie marks she has, subtly brightening her relative to the background so they’ll stand out along with her smile. Elegant green text along the bottom reads, Delusional. The title of the album, one must presume.

“Dark Sky, Bright Sea is my favorite,” the mare continues, still at that too-fast pace. “Like, I know you stopped singing after the war, and I mean, who could blame you? It wasn’t really a happy time and a ton of artists stopped then too so I get it I really do. And I totally understand if you want me to just go away and let you eat. But it’s such an upbeat album and it’s great to listen too when you’re sad so...” Finally, she realizes she’s running out of air, and takes a deep breath. “Could you?”

“Uh...” Green finally manages. She looks at me for direction, and I’m careful to look just as shocked and uncertain—taking a hold of my table knife the same way she did. But after a moment, I nudge my head towards the mare, and Green snaps out of it. “Right. Sure. Uh... who should I make it out too?”

“Great Chain,” she says, handing the record over and then fumbling for a pen that she also jerkily offers Green’s way.

Green takes the pen, and I can see her mouthing out the words as the writes. “For Great Chain. Keep on smiling.” She pauses a moment, and then signs it, “Envy.”

Watching Green hand the record back is like watching a professional just freestyling body language on stage. First she’s confused, then she’s happy, then she’s worried, then she’s self-conscious. She stares, smiles, frowns, and then bites her lip and looks at how sweaty she is, all in the few seconds it takes for the mare to collect the record and offer her gleeful thanks.

“Really,” the mare continues. “You don’t know how much this means to me. I’ll stop interrupting you now, but, thank you!” She offers one more bright smile, and then nervously hurries off, leaving Green and I alone again.

Still Green needs time to process that, so I put a hesitant smile on my face, holding a moment before I speak. “Wow,” I say. “That was weird. You don’t... think she’s a...” I lower my voice and mouth the words: “Spy? Are we in danger?”

“No, Sweetheart,” Green replies, lifting a hoof to try to rub the sweat out off. It’s a futile effort though. There’s too much of it, and her coat looks waxy even when she’s just stepped out of the shower. “She clearly knew who I was before she walked up. A spy wouldn’ have... I mean.” Her voice is getting tight, and her motions to rub the sweat away are speeding up. She looks so uncomfortable, like her own body was an ill-fitting dress. “She wouldn't just walk up and... uh. Sorry. Sweetheart. Sea Change. I’ll be right back.”

Abruptly, she rises from the table grabbing her makeup kit and darting off to the bathroom. I watch with my best concerned frown, but she doesn’t look back to see it, shutting the door tight behind her.

I think that went well. I’ll have to read her mind when she gets back to the table just to check, but my instincts are telling me this had to happen. It’s a rough transition she has to make, and there will be times I’ll have to push her into it. It’s like, she’s hurting, but she’s not hurt. It’s a good pain. Like—

“Hey, excuse me?” the mare interrupts my thoughts for the second time today. Again, I jerk my head up, and again, she’s standing next to the table. This time, her expression is terser. Impatient. Is she getting irritable with me? “Yeah, so, she’s gone. Could you ah...?” She indicates her saddlebags with a wing.

Quickly, I check on the bathroom door. Still closed, but Green could step out at any second. Right. Need to hurry. I throw a sound barrier between us and the door, and then turn to glare back at the idiot next to me. “I said wait until she leaves. As in leaves the cafe! Not until she goes to take a piss. She could step back out any second!”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t really feel like waiting around an hour for you two to wrap up, so—” I don’t bother letting her finish. I just grab her saddlebags, yank her over, and stuff the money down into them. Fifty bits, mostly in ones, so it makes a nice jingling sound. Her shocked expression at being pulled is briefly satisfying, but it doesn’t me what I need or her flanks in motion!

“There’s your money. You did fine. Now go!” I point to emphasize the action, but still she doesn’t move. Instead, she pulls out the stupid record of all things.

“You want this back?” she asks, and it’s all I can do not to roll my eyes at her.

“Rider’s ghost. No, I don’t want it back!” I check the door again. Still closed. Back to the mare. “It’s insipid pop music. Keep it if you want, throw it away if you don’t. And throw it away in the dumpster around the corner.” I gesture with a sharp point and turn her that way with another yank on her saddlebags. “Not in the trash here where she’ll see it. Got that?”

“I got it, I got it,” the mare snaps, pulling herself away and adjusting her bags to rest comfortably again. “Who peed in your cereal this morning? Jerk.” She’s taking a tone with me, but she got the hint as well, and she trots off before I need to say anything in reply. I alternate between watching her and the bathroom door until she’s gone, and don’t relax until she’s out of sight. Phew. Good. That was close.

My heart’s racing a bit from the stress. That’ll sting like heck when the morphine wears off in an hour, but I brought a little extra with me, so I’ll be okay. And for now... yeah. Close call, but that went well.

Green steps out a few minutes later. She doesn’t look very different, but I do notice that her coat is wet in places, and her makeup is a slightly different shade. I think she washed it all off in there, tried to clean herself up.

“Sorry about that,” she says, as she slides back to the table. I dismiss her worries with a wave of a hoof, careful to look all worried about her as I do it.

“It’s fine, Green,” I say. Shoot, she’s looking at the table. “But hey, look at me for a second, would you? Are you okay?” Reflexively, she looks up, and I catch her gaze. I stare into her eyes, and just like that: to those who seek the truth are all truths revealed.

“Sorry about that,” I say as I settle back down to the table, shifting my legs until the prosthetic gets comfortable. Siren offers me this gentle, worried little smile in return and waves it off. Like nothing happened. The whole thing makes me feel a bit tense.

“It’s fine, Green,” she says, automatically. “But, hey, look at me for a second, would you?” I look up, and she’s making her doe-eyes at me. “Are you okay?”

I put my makeup kit away to stall for time as I think about what I’m going to say to her. It’s cute really, watching her sit there with that innocent expression, leaning forward as she waits to hear me say I’m fine. It’s sweet of her, just like it was sweet of her to drag me out here, but that poor mare is in over her head.

I mean, when you get right down to it, she just doesn’t understand what she’s dealing with.

Comments

[Luminous Lead]

Whooop. Slipped into a vision right in front of her. That miiiiiight prove problematic.

[Lamplighter]

That poor kitten

[Reese]

"Not for creepy reasons though. I noticed that my visions of Green seemed a lot clearer when I was around her stuff, so it was a reasonable theory to test."
"No, no, I didn't steal your hair for creepy reasons[/]! Heh, whatever gave you that idea? I just wanted to use it to read your mind without your knowledge or consent!"

[Mendenbarr]

I think green might be a little unhappy when she finds Siren using rarity's trick to control her.

[jaimeastorga2000]

The blog post in question: "A Major Announcement".