Moonlight Sonata (Rewritten)
Moonlight Sonata
Cinder smirked as she watched the airship descend slowly towards their position.
“Here she is,” she whispered. “Our secret weapon, the key to our triumph.”
“Who is she?” Lightning asked. “Or should I be asking ‘what is she?’”
“She’s a Siren,” said Emerald.
Lightning rolled her eyes. “So you’ve told me, so she’s told me; what neither of you have told me is what a Siren is.”
Emerald snorted. “Don’t you know anything?”
“Not about this,” Lightning admitted. She smirked at Emerald. “I’m starting to think that you don’t know either.”
“A Siren is a creature of magic,” Cinder replied. “A demon from another world, possessed of a voice that can cloud and corrupt the minds of men.”
“I’m getting creeped out already,” Lightning muttered.
“With her assistance,” Cinder declared, “we shall turn brother against brother, friend against friend … turn Vale and Atlas against each other.” Her smile widened. “If they thought that the Breach was bad, just wait until the whole of Vale becomes a battleground, and all because of our singing friend.”
“'Singing'?” Lightning asked.
“Indeed,” Cinder replied. “The magic of the Sirens is not like my power, or any other that exists in Remnant. It dwells in the voice, and her voice is how she — how they — compel obedience and spread discord.”
“Does anyone have any earplugs?” Lightning asked.
Emerald ignored her, asking, “Did you ever meet her? Do you know what she’s like?”
“No,” Cinder admitted, although only after a moment’s pause had passed. “All I know of them, I know from Mistress Salem: she and her sisters come from another world, a world where magic is commonplace and where there are no grimm to trouble the people.”
It had occurred to her that Sunset might have come from that same place: after all, she too possessed magic, albeit a magic which was not like any Remnant magic that Cinder was aware of. Sunset was not a Maiden, and yet she unmistakably — to Cinder’s trained eye — possessed magic. The light displays of which she was so fond, her teleportation … might she, too, come from this other world? After all, if this was a world awash with magic, then there might be room for many different types of the same, no?
What was Sunset in that other world, and why had she come to this one?
“A world without grimm?” Lightning asked. “Sounds idyllic. A world without grimm would be a world without suffering.”
“Don’t be naïve,” Cinder said. “I’m sure that whatever other creatures live in that world are perfectly capable of causing an awful lot of suffering by themselves, just as we humans do worse to one another than ever the grimm could dream of.”
“A world without the grimm in it would still be better by a longshot,” Lightning replied.
“Bite your tongue,” Cinder said, a touch of mockery entering into her voice. “You’ll hurt their feelings.”
She paused for a moment, before continuing on with her account. “In any event, the sirens were powerful in that world. They ruled over many with the power of their song; they raised up armies, inspired devotion with their voices, and then fed off the negative emotions that they caused through their actions. And for that crime, they were banished from their own world and into ours.”
Put like that, they sounded rather impressive. She would have to be on her guard against this one; she might well resent being forced into a subordinate role and seek to supplant Cinder at the head of this operation.
If she tries, I will pluck out her eyes and leave her to stumble around singing to a crowd she cannot see; nobody is going to take my place. I have worked too hard, suffered too much, endured too long to give way to anyone, no matter what power they possess.
“Feeding off negative emotions isn’t so lucky here in Remnant,” Lightning said. “I’m surprised they weren’t eaten by the grimm.”
“Maybe they were strong enough to best any grimm who were drawn to them?” Emerald suggested.
“Perhaps,” Cinder allowed. “I don’t know about that. What I do know is that they tried to set up their own kingdom here in Remnant, and they almost succeeded; as so often, the Immortal Man and his followers put a stop to their efforts; he seems constitutionally incapable of allowing anyone else a place in the sun. One might almost think he suffers from jealousy, that the moment he sees a source of power which he does not control, he must smash it, like a spoiled brat who would rather break a toy than let another girl play with it.”
Phoebe, she recalled, had been just the same. Even after she had grown too old for toys, the aversion to sharing them with Cinder had remained as strong as ever.
“The Sirens fled,” Cinder went on, “and Salem took them under her protection … and into her custody, lest their magic somehow become a threat to my mistress’ designs.”
“So you don’t know what she’s going to be like?” Emerald asked.
“No,” Cinder murmured, although she had a pretty good idea. She imagined somebody like herself, someone ambitious, someone who harboured an anger at the world that would not make a space for them, someone cold, who could be cruel when necessary, someone cunning and manipulative, someone … someone who would understand her. Someone she could work with. Someone who thought the same way that she did.
I might not even need you anymore, Sunset. I’ll have a new friend soon.
Someone who shares my aims and doesn’t pretend to prefer the company of Pyrrha Nikos over me.
The airship, Mistralian-looking in that absurd way that they had of looking antique even when they were very nearly cutting edge, set down before them, the propeller on its rear spinning for a little while to buffet the grass around them before coming to a halt.
There was a moment of pause before the central door slid open.
“For realsies? You mean we are here yet? Well, why didn’t you say so?”
A girl jumped out of the airship. She was young-looking — about fifteen, to judge by her appearance — with violet eyes and light blue hair, streaked with tones of a much darker blue, that was long enough to reach down past her waist; in fact, it fell down almost to her knees. She was dirty and dressed in rags that were torn and filthy and falling apart. In that respect, at least, she reminded Cinder of herself … but only of a part of herself that she had tried very hard to banish completely from memory and recognition.
Being confronted with it in the person of another was not something she enjoyed.
The girl who had leapt from the airship was oblivious to all of this, however, as she beamed excitedly at the world all around her.
“So this is it, huh? It doesn’t seem to have changed much; are you sure it’s been hundreds of years? It looks just the same. Oh, hey!” she cried as she noticed Cinder and her followers for the first time. “So you must be Team Evil, huh? It’s great to meet you!”
Cinder stared at her. This … she can’t be…
This is the otherworldly demon?
“It’s Team Clementine, actually,” Emerald insisted.
“Yeah, but you’re totally Team Evil, aren’t you?” the girl said. “This is so exciting; I can’t believe I’m about to debut for the first time as a solo artist!”
Cinder felt her eye start to twitch. “Please, tell me you’re not—”
“Ah, Cinder, how nice of you to roll out the red carpet for us,” Doctor Watts declared as he disembarked from the airship. The doctor was a tall, lean man, his dark hair turning to grey at the tips, and a moustache — thick, but well groomed — covering his upper lip from view; his teeth flashed every so often out from underneath the moustache. He was dressed in a grey suit, with only his mustard yellow shirt providing a splash of colour that made him visible in the darkness. “I’d say it’s been too long, but, well, that would be a lie.”
“The feeling is entirely mutual,” Cinder growled. She took a deep breath. “This child—”
“You wanted a Siren,” Doctor Watts said, in a tone that was altogether too smug for Cinder’s liking. “And before you ask: I have a 'no returns' policy.” He smirked at her. “It’s in the fine print.”
“I’m Sonata Dusk,” Sonata said. “Nice to meet you, and I can’t wait to get started. Can I put my necklace on now?”
“'Necklace'?” Cinder asked.
“It seems the powers of these creatures are not entirely innate to their biology,” Doctor Watts declared as he reached into one of the pockets of his jacket and pulled out a black choker with a large ruby pendant dangling from it. “These jewels are in some way key to their magic, which is why Salem has separated the two and entrusted the gem to me for the duration of the journey.” He tossed it to her. “Otherwise, who knows where she might have ordered me to take her?”
“Thank you,” Sonata said cheerfully as she caught the necklace in one hand. She made to fasten it around her neck.
“Wait,” Cinder said, raising one hand as fire leapt to her fingertips, the scarlet flames dancing in eager anticipation. “You say that this necklace is the key to your power. So why do you need to wear it now, when you’re not going to use your power?”
Sonata stared blankly at her for a moment. “So I’m always ready when you need me?” She smiled innocently. “Why shouldn’t I put it on? Are you worried about something?”
I’m worried that you’ll use your siren song on me and not my enemies, Cinder thought. But how likely was that, really? Salem was still holding her two sisters hostage — she had been wise, after all, to only send Salem a single siren — and even if that were not the case, there was also the fact that this girl, this creature, was a demonstrable idiot.
“You must be Cinder, right?” Sonata said, her violet eyes shining guilelessly. “Lady Salem’s told me so much about you.”
“Has she?” Cinder asked flatly.
“You bet,” Sonata said. “She talks about you all the time, about how talented you are, about all her high hopes for you; I think you’re her favourite.”
She actually said that? Cinder had always hoped that that might turn out to be the case, that the woman whose respect and affection she desired more than any other might actually feel for her the esteem that she could never quite bring herself to show directly, and to have it confirmed … it was pleasing to hear, even if she could no more admit that than Salem could admit to the affection.
“Well, obviously,” Cinder said as she lowered her hand slightly.
The gem in Sonata’s hands glittered under the moonlight.
“You’re the strongest and the smartest of Salem’s servants,” she said, “so why would someone like you be so afraid of little ol’ me that you won’t let me put my necklace on?” She beamed.
Cinder snorted. It was true. She was worrying over nothing. There was no way that this perky airhead could possibly out-scheme her, Cinder Fall, the maiden who would overturn the world and cast down all its kingdoms. She lowered her hand completely. “Go ahead.”
“Trust me,” Sonata said. “There’s nowhere that I’d rather be than here.”
She fastened the necklace around her neck, and instantly, a little extra colour began to suffuse her face. She closed her eyes and threw back her head, her mouth opening as she sang a soft, lilting scale, her timbre rising and falling for a moment as she threw out her arms and twirled in place.
She sighed in something like relief. “That is so much better. You have no idea how much I’ve missed this! Okay! I’m ready to get out there and work some magic!” Her stomach growled so loudly that everyone heard it. “Although, could we maybe grab some dinner first? Because we were on that airship for a really long time and I’m starving. I feel as though I haven’t eaten in centuries.” A momentary trick of the light made her appearance almost sinister, but it passed as quickly as it had come. “Ooh, I like your outfits, by the way. Do I get a neat outfit now that I’m on the team?”
“Unfortunately,” Lightning said, in a voice laced with sarcasm, “what with being wanted fugitives and all, we aren’t exactly in much of a position to make shopping trips.”
“Which is going to make escorting Miss Dusk into Vale for her ‘concerts’ a little difficult as well,” Watts mused. “Why, it’s almost as if you didn’t think this through, isn’t it, Cinder?”
Cinder’s eyes narrowed. “At least I’m acting to serve our mistress. How are you helping our cause?”
Watts chuckled. “If you call failing aggressively and revealing yourself to the enemy thus being forced to improvise an entirely new plan on the fly 'helping,' then yes, I suppose you are helping. As for myself, I prefer to think carefully before I act; that way, when I act, I don’t trip over my own feet.”
It was only Cinder’s iron will and complete composure that prevented her from roasting him alive. “As a matter of fact, I have already come up with a solution to this issue; once we get through the Green Line — which we will, thanks to a cultist who is conveniently placed as an officer in the Valish defence forces — then Bon Bon will be responsible for escorting Sonata between our hideout and Vale proper. After all, who is going to question one of the heroes of the Breach?”
“Bon Bon,” Watts murmured, sounding rather annoyingly sceptical, considering that he was the one who had inflicted Bon Bon upon Cinder in the first place; Cinder sometimes if he’d done it in order to make her fail and lose face in front of Salem. “Well … we’ll see how that works out, I suppose.”
Cinder’s lip curled into a sneer. “When I lay the relic at Salem’s feet, I will accept your apology… if it is delivered with sufficient grace.”
Watts’ smile flashed beneath his moustache. “Oh, you’ll get an apology… if that day ever comes.”
Cinder’s eyes narrowed. She opened her mouth to say something more, some cutting retort that would dumbfound him with her wit and eloquence. But before she could speak, she felt something, an instinct born out of the grimm influence that Salem had granted her. She could feel something approaching.
“Doctor, you should return to your ship, but don’t take off until … well, I think you’ll know,” Cinder said. “Lightning, get ready to fight; Emerald, protect Sonata.”
“I don’t take orders from—” Watts began.
“They have found us!” Cinder snarled. She didn’t know how, but she could feel them in her bones. She could feel them approaching.
Shards of glass swirled around her, borne aloft by shifting air currents, rising with the heat, spinning around to form a bow of black glass in her hands. She nocked an arrow and stared into the darkness.
With her grimm eyes, she could see into the night, but she scarcely needed that ability because the airship was all lit up. It was an Atlesian Skyray, with a searchlight mounted underneath the nose, sweeping across the ground from left to right as the airship moved in the direction of Watts’ craft.
That was how they had found them, she was sure; they had detected the approach of Watts’ airship — she had hoped they wouldn’t be scanning out past the green line, but apparently, she had been mistaken in that — and they had sent a vessel of their own to investigate.
It was going to be their unlucky day, if so.
The searchlight beam had not turned upon Cinder’s group yet; Doctor Watts was frozen in place, half-crouched, waiting to bolt towards his own airship.
“Wait a moment, Doctor,” Cinder said, not bothering to hide the frisson of pleasure in her voice at her dependence on him. Doctor Watts was a very intelligent man — or at least, he believed himself to be so — but he was no warrior. Without her, he would be captured for sure. If he hoped to escape this, then he needed her to provide a distraction.
And, for the sake of Salem, she would provide such a thing. She thought that was rather big of her.
She doubted it would be appreciated, but she was used to being unthanked and unregarded by it.
Her time would come, in the end. It would make his ultimate inevitable apology all the sweeter.
Cinder raised her bow, took air, and loosed.
Her shaft struck the engine on the port side of the airship. The Skyray began to spin in an ungainly fashion through the air as that engine exploded in a flower of brilliant red.
“Now, Doctor!”
Harriet Bree fought with the controls as the Skyray started to spin. The cockpit resounded with the blaring of alarms.
“Port engine’s out!” she said.
‘What do you say we take a Skyray out for a quick recon, guys? We’ll get a lay of the land, get a better idea of the country than you can from a map. Then we can start plotting a real search tomorrow.’ I bet you wanted this, didn’t you, boss?
Clover Ebi’s semblance worked in mysterious ways sometimes; for a guy whose semblance was good fortune, things like this tended to happen an awful lot: quick recons or patrols turning into battles.
Admittedly, those battles had a habit of being against the people they’d been looking for in the first place, which she supposed was pretty lucky, but all the same, this was the third airship that had been totalled since she started with the Ace Ops, and it was starting to be a running gag with the flight crew on the Valiant.
Couldn’t their good luck be not getting shot down?
“Someone doesn’t want us near that airship,” Elm Ederne observed. “Looks like your instincts were right on, boss.”
That was the real reason why Clover was the leader of this team. People might think it was his semblance — and his semblance was damn useful; nobody would deny that — but while that might have earned him a spot on the squad, it wasn’t why he led the squad. It was his judgement that did that: Clover Ebi had a hunter’s instinct, a knowledge of what to do, of what ought to happen next that was unrivalled by any huntsman or huntress that Harriet had worked with before. He was … he was making Harriet sound like a lovestruck schoolgirl even in her own head.
Get it together, Bree, for crying out loud! You’re supposed to be a professional.
So why don’t you focus on professionally getting this airship under control?
Regardless, when they had picked up an unidentified airship on their scanners, it had been Clover’s idea to investigate; with anyone else aboard, it probably would have turned out to be smugglers or something, but Harriet doubted that smugglers would have had the balls to shoot at an Atlesian military airship like that.
No, this … knowing Clover’s luck, this was probably what they were looking for.
Clover chuckled. “Looks like it’s our lucky day, people.”
Every other member of the Ace Ops groaned theatrically as he said that.
“Harriet,” Clover said, “what’s the status on that other airship?”
Even while she fought with the stick, Harriet managed to check the scope. “It’s taking off, heading east.”
“Can you get a missile lock?”
Harriet’s eyebrows rose, but she bit back the obvious retort that that would require them to be pointing in one direction for long enough to aim at the target. “I can’t hold her; we’re going to have to ditch.” Again.
She looked up in time to see Clover flash that grin he had that was equal parts infuriatingly smug and infuriatingly charming in equal measure. “It can’t be helped. And when we bring in our target, then the loss of one airship is going to look like small potatoes.”
“You think they’re still there?” Elm asked. “The airship—”
“If Cinder was going to cut and run, she would have left already,” Clover explained. “I don’t know what was on that ship — reinforcements, equipment, dust — but I’m sure it wasn’t an evac transport.”
Clover turned away from her and walked into the main section of the airship. His six feet and three inches made him the second to smallest member of the Ace Ops — only Harriet was smaller at the positively pint-sized five foot seven — but he filled up the space nonetheless. His sleeves had been torn off, exposing arms corded with muscle, and more muscles were visible upon his neck. His jaw was as square as an anvil, and his eyes were— get it together, Bree!
“Okay, people!” Clover said, raising his voice. “You all know our objective: to bring in the fugitive Cinder Fall; we take her alive, if possible, but I don’t want anyone taking any unnecessary risks. If you coming home alive means that Cinder comes in dead, then that’s a trade I’m willing to make. We are going to be making a free descent, jumping by pairs: Elm and Vine, you first, then Harriet and Tortuga, then I’ll follow. And of course, it’s dark out there, so remember your night vision gear.”
“I hate this part,” Tortuga muttered from the seat next to Harriet.
“Ace Ops! Let’s get this done!” Clover shouted. “Harriet, open the doors!”
There were five of them. Five people leapt from the burning airship, all of them wearing some variant of an Atlesian uniform: a tall, muscular woman with a hammer as big as she was; a clean cut man who looked as if he had been designed by the marketing department of the Atlesian military so they could stick him on posters; a lean figure with a ghostly pallor; a slender woman with a head that was almost completely shaved, save for a V of hair sticking up above her forehead; a mountainous tortoise faunus with scaly skin and a wild black beard covering his face. Five of them, to bring her down.
Not today.
She loosed another arrow, the obsidian shaft flying through the air, almost invisible in the darkness; there was no way that they could—
The poster boy swung his fishing pole out, and the line extended outwards from it to snag Cinder’s arrow, which he flung aside with a flick of his wrist — and his pole. The glass dart flew off into the distance.
Cinder growled wordlessly; she began to move, sidestepping rapidly away; in the corner of her eye, she could just about see Watts’ airship making its escape. Good. Salem liked the man, for reasons Cinder could only guess at; she would not have cause to blame Cinder for his loss.
Cinder loosed more arrows, the black shafts flying from her bow like rain, her hands moving so rapidly, the eye could barely follow them. All that could be seen in the darkness was the smouldering glow of the hot glass as she fletched one arrow after another, each shaft loosed as soon as it was fashioned. Poster Boy caught one, and then another with his fishing line, casting them aside like puny mackerel, but others forced his group to scatter to avoid them as the obsidian darts buried themselves in the ground.
Where they began to heat up, orange ripples like the sea under a setting sun spreading out around them, the ground itself seeming to rumble as they grew hotter and hotter, before exploding in a sequence of red and gold blasts that concealed the Atlesian huntsmen — and all else besides — from view.
Including the source of the missile that burst out of the flames towards them.
Cinder leapt aside, as did Lightning Dust — albeit in a different direction. Emerald shoved Sonata Dusk — who had been standing stationary, either frozen or completely unfamiliar with what was being fired towards her — out of the way, but was caught in the blast herself, flung aside by the explosion and tossed heavily to the ground in a ragged heap.
As the explosions cleared, Bald Girl charged out of the flames, trailing lightning in her wake. She was wearing some kind of exoskeleton attached to her back and arms; that would doubtless give that fist she was cocking back additional punch if the blow landed.
Lightning Dust caught her before she could reach Cinder, colliding with her in a blur of crackling lightning bolts as the two went down in a heap, rolling across the grass. Electricity blazed across Lightning’s suit, the liquid dust bubbled in its tubes, and it wreathed her fists as she hammered down on her opponent.
Bald Girl cried out as the lightning scratched at her, clawed at her, tore at her aura like dogs tearing at the fox, but as the two of them rolled over one another, she gave as good as she got, throwing punches even as she received them.
“Elm, go help Harriet!” Poster boy commanded. The big woman, her rocket launcher transforming back into a hammer, obeyed his command, striking across the ground to where Lightning and this Harriet were locked in their brawl.
Cinder’s bow split into a pair of glistening scimitars in her hands as she strode forward, moving to intercept this Elm before she could reach Lightning. She was herself intercepted by an arm of pure aura, glowing pale yellow and as thick as the truck of a birch tree, that leapt from the lean and pallid man as he groped for her, swiped at her, forced Cinder to duck and dive away as he reached for her with first one and then another arm of aura anchored to his shoulders.
Cinder rolled beneath one arm, reforming her bow in her hands as she came up and loosed at him, forcing him to bring his arms back so that he had enough aura to protect himself.
It gave her the opening she needed. She rushed for him, bow forming blades.
The tortoise faunus got in her way. He drew a pistol from the bandoliers he wore across his chest and fired at her. The pistol cracked. Cinder blocked the bullet harmlessly. The pistol transformed into a cutlass as Cinder closed the distance with him.
Their blades clashed once, twice; Cinder spun on her toes, wielding both swords in a slashing stroke, driving him back.
Something wrapped around her neck, the cord of the fishing line from poster boy encircling her choker, tightening around her throat, pulling her down to the ground, down to the earth, into the dust that she threw up with her impact. She flopped like a fish, swords slipping from her hands as she clawed at the fishing cable that was growing tighter, always tighter around her neck, digging into her flesh, squeezing her aura as she was dragged—
Dragged out of her hiding place.
“Here comes a monster to gobble you up.”
No! No, that was not her, that was not now, that was someone else, someone who was gone, she was not that helpless girl, that person had died a long time ago, died in the fire, died at Phoebe’s hands. She was Cinder, Cinder Fall, and if she could only get her hands on this cable, if she could use her semblance—
The hands of aura closed around her—
Phoebe’s hands closed around her.
Cinder squirmed in his grip.
Ashley squirmed in her grip.
She struggled, she writhed, but the aura that engulfed her was too strong.
Phoebe was too strong.
No, no, no, no, this wasn’t happening to her; she was Cinder Fall, Cinder Fall, she was this world’s nemesis—
She was a weak little girl who couldn’t protect herself.
Cinder’s breathing was ragged, coming in fits and starts, her chest heaving as she gasped for air. The breath left her as she was turned over, pressed down, pushed to the ground as they started to pin her arms behind her back.
Phoebe pinned her arms behind her back.
She could hear them laughing. The poster boy, the pallid man, the tortoise, they were all laughing at her, their laughter was high, almost girlish. They laughed at her with malice in their voices, with cruelty. They laughed as they held her down, had her at their mercy. Cinder squirmed, she wriggled, she writhed, but she could not escape from them, from any of them.
There was no escape.
Any moment now, they would start hurting her. Any moment now, they would tear her dress — the rags, they would tear the rags from … they would tear her … they would strip her and they would … no. No.
“Please,” Cinder mewled. “Please, no. Please, stop.”
Help me. Mother, Father, Sunset, someone, please help me.
Lightning crackled from where Lightning fought. She was lit up, electricity coursing from her body, leaping off her like hungry predators preying upon the herd, but none of it seemed to trouble the mountainous woman who held her fast, who kept her pinned while the smaller of the two, the bald-headed girl, pounded her with blow after blow of her strengthened fists.
Lightning’s head snapped sideways. The lightning began to dim.
Emerald lay on the ground, prone.
There was no one. No one was coming to help her.
No one ever came to help her.
“Let’s have some fun with her,” Poster Boy said - no it wasn’t him, it was Phoebe. No, it was both of them, two voices speaking over one another, two voices speaking the same words, filled with the same glee at her suffering.
No. No, I am … I am … I am nothing.
And then … and then Sonata started to sing.
There were no words, so perhaps it would have been better to say that she was harmonising — although that begged the question of just who or what she was harmonising with. Regardless, sound was coming out of her mouth, and so it was good enough for Cinder to say that she was singing.
And what sound! It was not aimed at Cinder, that was clear to her in her heart, and yet, nevertheless, it stirred something in her — the pride that they had tried to stamp out of her in the kitchen, here.
Sonata walked forward, and as she walked, she swayed, and the way that she swayed and moved her arms, there was … there was something inhuman about it, something almost like a creature of the seas, not one that walked on land.
Sonata walked into the midst of the Atlesian huntsmen, and as she sang, Cinder felt the grip upon her weakening. She scrambled upright, her bow reforming in her hands.
Sonata raised one hand to stay her, but kept on singing.
Lightning Dust had been released as well. Her amber eyes were wide, darting between their enemies and Sonata, her whole expression amazed as the Atlesians seemed not to notice what was going on.
It was as if Cinder and her cohort had ceased to exist for them.
Sickly green mist began to form around their feet like poison gas, spreading around Sonata, who moved as if she was unaware that it was happening; for that matter, the Atlesians barely seemed aware of it either.
And all the while, her song scratched at Cinder’s mind like a dog desperate for attention.
The gem around Sonata’s neck gleamed red as blood.
The big woman hefted her hammer and swatted the bald girl aside with a single blow.
And at that moment, as if a signal had been given, the Atlesians erupted into violence against each other, turning their weapons on their comrades and ignoring their enemies as though they had ceased to exist.
“We should probably get going before this wears off,” Sonata suggested.
“Of course,” Cinder agreed. She hesitated for a moment, before adding, “Thank you.”
“No problem!” Sonata declared cheerily. “And you know what? I’m not even hungry any more!”
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Yay, Sonata!
Huh, so Cinder does know about Equestrian magic. But oh boy, she’s gonna get a shock about what Sonata’s like.
Aaand Sonata begins.
Tempest too? Yikes.
Loving to see how these two will add to the story!
I really hope you're going with the version of sonata I think you're going with
Stupid! Never let flattery over ride caution! I am so going to enjoy watching that little overly cheery psychopath make everything burn! And possibly turn Cinder into her bitch/playtoy. And not necessarily in that order. Weeeeeeeee!
Sonata alredy has Cinder figured out and is going to have her in her palm very soon , Either that or she'll drive her insane
It's funny that Cinder would propably get along with Adagio just fine but insted she gets the most unpredictible out of the three
If Sonata drives her insane I wouldn't be surprised if Cinder helps Sunset and team SAPR out a little in getting rid of her
Cinder: *calls Sunset*
Sunset:"What is it this time , another provocation"
Cinder:"Can you get rid of an ally of mine?"
Sunset:"What?"
Cinder:"She has been driving me insane ever since she got here"
Sunset:"How is this my problem?"
Cinder:"She is a mind controling demon from another world"
Sunset:"..."
Sunset:"I'm listening"
In the moment Cinder imagined somebody as ruthless as herself I thought of Adagio, but then I knew that Sonata would appear, so. Anyway, I love where this is going, I prefer the characterization of Sonata I think you will take. Acting all nice, innocent und bubbly, but in the end she is a manipulator like her sisters, in her own way. The way she stroke Cinder’s ego, without appearing threatening at all, at the same time. Simply brilliant.
Manipulative Sonata is best Sonata. So adorable, charming and friendly that you won’t even notice her spiel until it is already too late.
Best Siren and Edge Pony? Woot.
Oh boy, Soni is already starting the games! I love it when it is these versions of Sonata, the ones who are no where near a vapid as she appears.
And Tempest? Wasn't expecting her, like at all. She is going to prove to be a problem, as she should be damn near Pyrrha's level of ass kicker.
Well, this has just gone from bad to worse. We've all been expecting Sonata to arrive and everyone already knows what she's doing, but Tempest especially has me worried. She's just like Cinder, minus the blind ego. She is brilliant, uniquely trained and highly motivated. She will not stop. Ever.
Once known as Fizzlepop BerryTwist (won't that be an interesting revelation for everyone?), Tempest was indeed never like the other ponies. Emily Blunt was delighted to voice a character just like her, someone who started off as the type of girl with scraped knees. She's been through the harder side of life but it made her into a cold, driven warrior. She wears a suit of armor from the rest of the world, and seeks to stand among the mighty.
"You see it all so clearly, the best way to survive is all alone."
I wasn't expecting Tempest. I have to wonder what her team acronym is, and where her name fits into it if she's not the leader. Sonata I think will be entertaining. She had Cinder eating out of the palm of her hand without any magic. Brilliant.
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I agree, it reminds me of another fic in which Sonata was the real threat. According to Adagio, the eldest makes plans and lauds her power,
the middle uses brute tactless force, but Sonata makes you want to serve her.
I feel like she's breaking the 4th wall a little there.
See, this is why Sonata terrifies me the most.
A moment of rest before the fun Starts and this chapter is the start.
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It's the people who know how to use magic that worry me Can you imagine if someone like Raven got ahold of a weapon that can cut through almost anything without using dust or aura to achieve
Sonata may not be the best choice, this will require a degree of subtly and intelligence. Considering how Sonata almost blurted out their plans she may goof something up.
Well, that was quite a fun addition to this chapter! A clash with the Ace Ops, giving them a chance to shine and proving that their unique combination of tools and assets could take even Cinder down. But the presence of a Siren changes everything. This was a sign of what was is to come.
Also, good to see that Cinder has made the educated guess of Sunset being from Equestria. But one thing I'm especially looking forward to is when Salem speaks to her for the first time through the Seer that Watts has brought. Salem will not only confirm Sunset's origins to Cinder, but will also order for all of Team SAPR to be neutralized. Silver eyes, Equestrian magic, a semblance that makes anyone into a titan, and a Nikkos warrior with legendary skill and old roots. Cinder doesn't have a problem with the rest of SAPR dying, but Sunset? It will be the first imperceptible crack in her loyalty to Salem.
Oh this buildup is fantastic to the intro of Sonata. And the introduction of the Ace ops is well handled as well. Now the question is, will they be able to counter this new threat now that it is no longer a surprise?
Man it would have been hilarious if THIS was how Cinder died. At the hands of, as far as she knows, some guy.
I'm going to guess that's supposed to be Cinder, since she is the one receiving a siren.
Here I'm going to guess that there is a missing wondered.
Given the rest of the paragraph that feels like it should be "his dependence on her"
-Reads Cinder's expectations-
It is going to be Sonata, is it not?
-Yes-
Most excellent. I wonder who chose her specifically. Watts or salem?
Now, damn. You say Clover's semblance is overpowered, but how about what Sonata just did?
And then Sonata shows up!
A valid fucking question I think!
Shit like that, oh it makes her come off as competent as hell, the innocence sells it even more. I’ll admit, we are approaching territory where the details of mu last read through are getting fuzzy, I don’t remember how well Sonata was depicted last go, but I’m loving her already!
Oh… he is so dead isn’t he,
I am still of the opinion that Clover was lucky to die, and Qrow continues to be unlucky to live. It makes it far more poetic and tragic if you ask me.
Good, Sunset doesn't need you either, Cinder. You're a poison to her.