Aria Blaze, beaten by her sisters, is found near dead by Fluttershy half a year after The Battle of the Bands. Healed, Aria vows to protect the shy girl with her life and butcher all how may harm but a single pink hair on her head. Oh Boy.
By My Honor as a Knight of the Seas, I Pledge my Faith, Love, and Courage into the Service of she who would wield them with Wisdom and Hope. Let my Hammer break any Skull that dare do you or yours harm and let my Magic direct history in your favor.
For over 5000 years Aria Blaze has been stuck on this sad little planet. She had been worshipped as a Goddess, feared as a Monster, and respected as a Solider. She had lived the highest of lives and survived the lowest of lows. None of this came close the the utter humiliation and despair of bleeding to death in a Alley Dumpster. Her Magic Gone. Her Sisters Gone. Her Dignity Gone. This, she thought to herself, is truly the worst it gets.
It was when a familiar girl with yellow skin and pink hair opened the dumpster lid that Aria realized how much worse it could get.
As Aria very well knew, Battles can leave your soilders in pretty bad shape- she just never expected a Battle of the Bands to be what did her in.
Rain pelted down from a thundering sky and onto Aria Blaze’s head as the ancient siren marched down the deserted alley. Her wet fists clenched as the last few hours kept playing in her mind’s eye, as if on repeat. Over and over again, her mind subjected her to the humiliating defeat at the hands of those Rainbow Idiots. She snarled as she remembered their victory, as she and her sister’s lost control of the crowd. Let them have their small triumph. She was a Siren, Gods Bellow, and she would show… The furious immortal reached for her Gem, only to stop when she realized the last piece of it lay in her tightening fist. Suddenly all the rage broiling inside vanished, replaced only with a powerful wave of despair. She wasn’t a Siren. Not anymore.
The sudden sound of crying snapped her back to earth as she looked to her two sisters. Sonata had collapsed onto the pavement, tears and rain streaming down her face as she uselessly grabbed at her missing Gem. Her missing Soul. Ahead Adagio was still shuffling forward, a blank face staring ahead at nothing. Her hand limply clutched to a handful of ruby shards that used to make up her Gem. Aria watched as her elder sister tripped on nothing and fell to the ground, shards scattering on the wet broken pavement. Broken. After millennia after millennia of struggling in the cursed world, that bastard of a wizard had finally done it. They were broken. The once proud Siren fell to her knees, and puked into a gutter.
The pattering of rain and the quite sobs of Sonata were the only way to tell time was passing as the three ancient sisters lay collapsed on the alley floor. Eventually, as she always did, Adagio took charge.
“Aria. Get Sonata on her feet. We have to keep moving.” Aria stared blankly at the mound of bile beside her, watching as the running rainwater pulled it down the grate. “Aria! NOW.”
Jumping at her leader’s shout, Aria snapped out of her empty mind and nodded silently. The Purple Siren grabbed Sonata by the arms and lifted her up. Adagio had already stood back up, limping slightly on her right leg as she went to stand by her younger sisters.
“We have to keep moving.” Adagio repeated, watching as the other two sirens nodded in understanding. “Those salt-stained idiots could come after us at any minute. They might already be on our tail! We…”
The Orange siren stopped as she looked down into her hand, a single red fragment shinning. Sonata and Aria both looked down into their fragments, taking their eldest sister’s lead. Sole shadows of their power, their very Selves, looked back up at them. Aria herd Sonata’s voice catch. Suddenly the Brute Siren saw a flash of gleaming red light. Blinking she looked back at the shard, but saw nothing but a dead piece of her soul. Adagio was saying something.
“What.” Aria rasped looking at her leader. Gone were her sister’s lifeless eyes. Now Adagio stood glaring at the purple siren, teeth snarling and eyes livid.
“This is all your fault.” Came the reply.
“What. What! I…”
Adagio stopped Aria’s response with punch to the face.
“The Hell Dagi! What are you…”
“This never would have happened if you just followed orders!” Adagio yelled, eyes flaring. Aria stood stock still. She had rarely seen her sister this angry- and never directed at her.
“Adagio I…” What Aria was going to say even she didn’t know, but she was stopped at the sudden, blinding pain between her ribs. The Siren shrieked as she fell to her knees, hands bewildered at the knife sticking out of her dress. Adagio and Aria looked over at the only other person in alley. Sonata was glaring down at her sister with even more hatred and disgust than Adagio. Eyes never breaking contact with Aria, Sonata addressed the leader of the Dazzlings.
“If we leave her, it will slow the Rainbooms down. Idiots might try to save her.” Sonata half sobbed as she looked away from Aria’s confused eyes. “Its her fault. She should be the one to pay the escape toll.” Sonata tried to giggle at the joke, but it came out as another half sob instead.
Adagio silently nodded then kicked Aria in the diaphragm, leaving her winded on the pavement. Purple and red hands clutching the knife, Aria watch as her Elder Sister turned around and started walking down the alley. Sonata bent down into the wounded siren’s vision and whispered, “Now who’s the Worst.” Before running off to follow the orange siren.
“Hope…you both…drown in Hell.” Aria gasped as she watched her oldest allies leave her for dead.
Aria lay for what felt like an eternity, the rain pouring down on her drenched form, the water and blood following her bile down the sewer grate. Eventually, the remaining siren herd footsteps walkup to her and come to a stop. A small, idiotic part of Aria hoped it was her sisters. Maybe they had second thoughts and come to apologize. Turning her head Aria glanced at the person looking down at her with concern. Sunset Shimmer.
“Celestia! What happened to you!”
Aria struggled up to her feet, refusing the shocked girl’s help.
“Listen, I can help you. My friends and I can help you get to a hospital!”
Aria ignored Sunset as she inspected the knife wound. It would be better to leave it in for now. Deal with the wound later when she could put some pressure and bandages on it. She might need to cauterize the thing.
“Listen, I don’t know your name. But I know your hurting. I went through something similar a month ago. I can help!”
Silently Aria turned to face Sunset with dead eyes. The young mage looked so full of hope and sympathy. She actually wanted to help her. Help her get better. Help her off this dark path she found herself on. Help her see the light above the trench. Holding the knife buried into her side with one hand, Aria reached the second towards Sunset. Sunset smiled as she went to accept it, then promptly stopped smiling when she found the hand clenched around her neck.
“You. Took. EVERYTHING from me!” Aria screamed, rage dispelling the despair as the anger that had left her filled her body full again.
Sunset let out an unintelligible choke.
Aria straightened. The pain in her side forgotten as she faced the one responsible for this mess. Gnashing her teeth, the distraught siren continued. “You shattered my Gem! MY SOUL! You stole my POWERS! You…You Took my SISTERS AWAY!”
Sunset’s face was turning purple, her eyes screaming with sheer panic. Aria’s eyes glared back, like windows into Hell itself. “You want to HELP ME! After everything you’ve done! I SHOULD KILL YOU.” Lightening streaked across the sky, thunder booming close behind.
Sunset managed a whimper, the fear finally escaping her gasping lips. As Aria heard her enemy’s whimper, her rage suddenly vanished, leaving her empty once again. The fire in the siren’s eyes died down, as if put out by the rain. Her hand going limp, Aria let Sunset collapse to the pavement as she leaned against warehouse wall beside her. The purple siren looked down at the orange mage coughing atop the rain and blood-soaked pavement. Eventually Sunset looked up at Aria, eyes filled with both relief and fear. Aria looked back with eyes dead of all emotion.
“If you follow me, I will kill you.” Sunset gave a stiff nod in understanding, to which Aria returned with dry pleasure. “Great. Knew you were smart one, Shimmer.” With that Aria left Sunset to recover on her own as she made her way down the alley. Looking down at her shaking, free hand, the ancient girl realized she had somehow managed to hold onto the Gem shard. With a grunt she dropped it into the alley. Hobbling back the way she had come, Aria spat some blood out of her mouth and ignored the sounds of Sunset standing up.
And so it was that Aria Blaze walked away from her sisters and everything she had ever known and towards her new, Kraken-damned life.
Aria Blaze blinked the sleep out of her eyes as she came out of The Nightmare, wondering when she would be able to fall asleep and not relive the worst night of her 5000-year long life.
The morning sun flooded the rundown car Aria was currently calling home. Curled up inside her oversized sweatshirt, Aria muttered a few curses about immortal sun pigeons before attempting to untangle herself from the back seat. After a few minutes of mumbled obscenities, the siren finally popped the door open with her booted foot. Sliding off the car seat, Aria slumped onto the cracked concrete with a dramatic moan and glared at her surroundings. The long-abandoned factory lot glared right back at the month-long intruder. The purple immortal fumbled to her feet as she began the laborious process of welcoming the day.
First, as always, Aria flipped off the sun. Several thousand years ago the ancient girl would have offered far more elaborate curses to greet the great golden disk, however in this modern day and age she found simplest gesture to be the best form of insult. Besides, he had gotten the message a long, long time ago.
Next. She grabbed her whisky. Twisting off the top to her half empty bottle of Jameson Aria contemplated the wonderful existence of Irish Distilleries. Taking a generous swing the siren began to swish the brown liquid around in her mouth and through her teeth, then the homeless villain, against all reason, began to gargle. After a minute Aria let her morning whiskey run down her throat, before taking another swig and moving on to her least favorite part of her least favorite time of day.
The young-looking girl pulled her sweatshirt off revealing a pale green tank top. Throwing the sweatshirt into the black impala she was living in, Aria lifted up the side of her tank top to inspect It. Her six-month old knife wound had inexorably opened up during the night. Again. Aria sighed as she poured a little whisky on the open wound, flinching at the sudden sting of alcohol. She would have to take care of that gash before too long. With one last swig of liquor for herself, the siren capped the whisky and tossed the bottle after her sweatshirt.
With a slam of the door, Aria began the last step of her morning routine: Braiding her stupidly long hair. It was quite the process, but countless centuries of practice had quickened her fingers to the point where the monumental task only took a few minutes. If she could sheer this mess off, she would have done it millennia ago. When she was finished, she tied her bangs back with a green bandana, gave her car turned bed an affectionate pat on the hood, and headed off to face the world.
As the once all-powerful sea monster strode down the streets Aria couldn’t help but noticed how happy everyone seemed to be. It amazed her how every single one of was simultaneously The Worst. Glowering the middle siren caught sight of a young child holding onto his mother’s hand while licking a large, swirled lollipop. The small boy was fixated on the sugary treat, as only a child could be. The candy could very well be the best part of his day. Smirking Aria reached over and plucked the candy from the toddler’s hand with out breaking pace. No reason for her to be the only miserable soul this sunny morning. Initially to shocked to react the boy didn’t start his tantrum till she had disappeared around the corner, snickering to herself as she enjoyed the sweet taste of cruelty. And sugar.
Before she was able to finished her pilfered snack, Aria found herself facing the morning’s destination: Rosie’s Metal Shop. The big blue shop and garage stood a little ways from the hustle and bustle of the major streets, but also kept clear of the rundown, abandoned parts of town. In more ways than one the busy scrap company acted as a waypoint between the nicer folk of Canterlot City and the less nice folk living in the gutters and ruins beyond the river. Approaching the shop’s doors, Aria spotted some kids playing hopscotch in the lot.
“Ruby!” As Aria shouted, one of the startled girls looked over. Then the little ginger began to grin as she saw what the purple girl held in her hands.
“Think fast.” Aria called out, tone turning apathetic, as she pitched the lollipop towards the smiling girl. Before the kid could thank her, however, the grumpy siren had already ducked into the shop, letting the smell of wielding fumes and rusted metal envelop her. The shop floor was already bustling with bodies, wielders tearing apart trailers and cars for their spare parts, as Aria made her way to her usual station. A few of the workers greeted the youthful immortal as she walked past, none getting more than a grunt of acknowledgement. None, expect for Rosie.
The bright haired ginger stood nearly seven feet tall, with shoulders over half as wide. Decked out in a blue jumpsuit and her signature wielding goggles, the owner of the metal shop sat in a rather high chair over her latest project: A massive metallic horse, made up of discarded pieces of scrap metal and broken gadgets. The soot covered wielder with cream colored skin was currently attaching a twisted shower spicket to one of the reared fore legs, her MIG wielder sparking every couple of seconds. Hearing the chorus of greetings, Rosie switched her machine off and swiveled in her chair to face the new arrival.
“Blaze!” Came the booming voice. “Glad you early. Clamp towed a couple of cars in last night and I need you see what’s worth selling.”
“Morning Miss Rivet.” Aria greeted with her closest approximation to a professional tone. The girl had learned long ago not to get on the massive wielders bad side. She did not need another lecture on respect in the work place while facing down the barrel of The Rivet family’s prize riveting gun. “I’ll get right on it. Anything you looking for?”
“Take a good look at the engines. My Charlie needs a new camshaft before he hits the road again.” Rosie Rivet went to swivel back to her passion project, but stopped midway to add, “Oh, I paired a new guy up with ya. Don’t speak a lick a English, figured you could help him out.”
Nodding in the affirmative Aria gave a quick, “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good woman.” Rosie beamed, swiveling back to the metallically horse.
Aria continued on to her station near the back of the shop where all the beat-up cars were kept, noting the three ‘new’ one lined up and ready for slashing. She also noted the tall burly man sporting a veritable mane of grey hair. The siren yanked on her purple gloves and apron, apprizing the newcomer. Grim eyes with a grimmer face, the man eyed the young-looking girl who had been put in charge of him. Aria strapped her goggles on, contemplating his stance and features. If she had to place him…
“Вы говорите по-русски?” Aria asked, turning the acetylene value on her torch.
Blinking in surprise, the man stood stunned for a moment before asking, “как вы узнали, что я русский?”
“С волка́ми жить, по-во́лчьи выть.” Aria muttered, sparking her torch to life before giving it some oxygen. The man nodded, now eyeing the girl with new found respect as she grabbed a long, flat piece of metal and started heating it. When the metal had turned cherry red, the purple siren said in an authoritative tone, “Обратите внимание, я не люблю повторять себя.” And lifted up her apron and tank top. Then, while Aria stared down the burly foreigner, the siren pressed the 1200-degree flat iron to her still open wound. The man’s eyes bulged out of his head while Aria’s skin sizzled and her lips smirked. “Давайте начнем.”
Ten hours later Aria left the shop with a bag of scraps from her station and five crisp Twenties from Rosie. Ruby sat at the side of the building, patently waiting for her mother to roll up her overalls for the day. “Bye Aria!” the young girl called through her gap-toothed smile. Aria grunted a stinted farewell and made her way out and into the city. The lone siren soon found herself in Canterlot’s Asian District, as she did most days after working. Hair put back into her signature pigtails and face covered in soot, the purple siren pulled out an old pocket watch and marked the time. Walking up to her usual Japanese street diner, the evil vocalist gave the cashier a malevolent grin.
“Hi.”
The young girl behind the counter gave Aria a flat look.
“You have to say it. Every time.” Aria told the server, in a too pleased tone.
“Welcome. Valued Customer.” the girl intoned with a stilted, unamused voice. “How may I -humbly- serve you this Evening.”
Aria cocked her head with an exaggeratedly thoughtful look as she, with painstakingly slow eyes, glanced over each and every item on the menu. Clicking her tongue, the purple siren turned her attention back to the frustrated food vender and was pleased to note that her victim’s left eye was already twitching. Aria just might break her record tonight. “mmmm…do you have any specials today…”
“Look. I know what you want.” The girl groaned. “You get the same thing every day. Just let me ring it up for you and…”
“Do you have any specials today.” Aria asked a little louder, paying no heed to the pitiful cries of her cornered prey. With a sigh of defeat the cashier began to list the few specials of the night. By this time a line had begun to form. The jostling and mumbled cursing was music to the once sower of discord. The siren wished she could still taste the strife behind her. She was sure it would have been divine.
“Miss. Miss.” The annoyed cashier pointedly said, having finished listing off the specials.
"Sorry. Must have zoned out for moment. Could you go over them again?”
As anyone who has been through a rough patch could tell you, it was the little things that get you through the day. For some people is was a tasty snack. For others it was the sight of a happy dog. For Aria it was the look of absolute murder the cashier was giving her right at that moment.
“You have got to be shitting-“
“And time!” Aria beamed with fake enthusiasm. Pulling out the battered old watch. “Two minutes and Thirty-eight seconds. Good effort there. Couple less seconds and I would have had you. I’ll take my usual, extra sauce.”
“I hate you. So much.”
“I know.” Aria said smirking, handing the girl one of her Twenties. Glaring all the while, the young worker snatched the bill and counted out her tormentor’s change.
“Could I get a hundred pennies. Please.” Aria asked, with false meekness.
The polite phrasing meant nothing considering the round of Hell the weary worker had just been put through. With a sigh that said this unusual request was quite normal for the pigtailed immortal, the girl took a single bill to the back of the store to get the pennies, though not before pushing an already boxed order to the hungry siren. While Aria waited for her coins, she opened up the white take-out box and began slurping up the spicy delight with her cheap wooden chop sticks. Spicy octopus, her absolute favorite. Aria gave her first genuine smile of the day as the rubbery tentacles dance down her throat. Dinner was defiantly the best part of her weekday existence.
The thoroughly annoyed cashier coughed, interrupting the once sea monster from a blissful chunk of sauce and cephalopod. Impatiently, the busy worker tapped two roles of pennies on the wooden counter. Glaring at the girl, Aria began to slowly move her current mass of tentacles to her mouth. Then, in the pettiest of way, the once terror of land and sea began to obnoxiously slurp down her meal- refusing to break eye contact with the tired teenage worker.
Back in her empty car lot, the purple immortal sat hunched atop her black impala, an expression of outmost focus painted across her face. Between thumb and forefinger Aria held onto a single penny, spinning it between her fingertips. The siren realigned her arm, holding it to an upwards angle. Holding her breath, the former Dazzling gently repositioned her hand. Then, with a sudden flick of the wrist, Aria’s penny was sent flying through the air. Purples eyes traced the flight path of the one cent piece with hawk-like intensity. The coin shoot down, clipping the rim of an empty paint can about ten-feet away. Rolling away from its intended target, the penny landed in a pile of its fallen brethren a few inches away.
“Shit.”
Aria immediately pulled another coin her sagging sweatshirt pocket and began to line up her next shot. This time the coin didn’t even make it to the can, landing a few feet before the intended target. With a growl, the siren pulled out another coin. This nightly ritual had begun several nights ago, back when the distraught immortal was still getting in suicidal fights with any danger she could find. Back when, in the dark of night, all the once singer could think about was her traitorous sisters, the idiotic Rainbooms who had took everything from her, and the constant, throbbing pain in her side. These nights the youthful ancient thought nothings of traitors or idiots, she thought of only one thing. Getting the damn penny into the can. And so it came to be that the Great Aria Blaze, once Goddess and Tyrant of the ancient world, spent her nights tossing coins into a rusted out bucket.
With a sigh, Aria listlessly tossed the next coin with any real thought. With a clunk the penny fell through the air in a perfect arc, landing precisely into the center of her can. As is her eternal curse, things never worked out for the purple siren till she stopped thinking so kraken-damned hard about them.
With a sudden whoop of victory, Aria jumped up into the air. This was immediately followed by a yelp of pain as she ripped her knife wound back open. Doubling over in pain, the siren fell from her car’s roof and hard onto the cracked pavement. It had happened. Again.
The next three days passed by Aria much in the same way. Every morning she would flip off the sun. Every day she would tear Junker cars apart, looking for sellable parts. Every night she would toss a hundred pennies into a paint can. For three days Aria would snatch a snack or toy from an unsuspecting child on her way into work. And For three days Aria would toss the freshly pilfered goods to an innocent Ruby Rivet playing outside her mother’s shop. For three nights Arai would give it her all to get her favorite cashier to swear like a sailor. And for three nights Aria would ‘forget’ most of her change on the counter. Three suns rose and three suns set and then- it was Saturday.
Aria stretched, grinning wide as she flipped off a sun well past the horizon. Saturday was a magical time when anything could happen. Saturday was a place in the week where magic danced and coral flowers bloomed. Saturday was Aria’s day off.
The siren jogged across the vacant lot to collect all the missed pennies from the previous week and toss them into the half full can, before shoving the bucket of coins into the back seat of the beat-up Impala. Then, sliding into the mostly unused drivers’ seat, Aria started to rev her baby awake. After a few rattling attempts, the old Chevy found it in herself to burst into life. Patting the dashboard like a proud mother, Aria tuned the radio to her favorite station: The Garage, home to all the Best Punk Rock. The purple immortal reached up to grab a pair of mirror avatars as the music started screeching. With a smirk on her lips and joy in her heart Aria swerved around and accelerated though the ruins of an old factory, bursting moments later onto a back street that lead out of the city and towards the beach.
An hour later the car pulled up to a long-abandoned pier overlooking a sparkling blue ocean, the ruins of an ancient lighthouse jutting out at the end of a long stone path half submerged by the rising waters. Door swinging open, Aria excitedly jumped out of the Impala, clothes already half off. Bolting down the path, feet and body bare in a matter of moments, the siren stooped only for a moment at the edge of the lighthouse walls to gaze at the shimmering, liquid sapphire laid out before her. Then, without further hesitation, the once terrible sea monster dove into the clear blue waters, disappearing from sight.
Several hours later Aria’s head breached along the pier, fresh blood dripping from gasping lips. While none of the local marine life where her favorite, there was just something about hunting down your own fish that simply added something to the taste. Licking the blood from the edges of her mouth while she slowly made her way to the shore, Aria basked in the rare, overbearing joy she felt. Perhaps it was the adrenaline and meal, or maybe it was simple the fresh, salt water enveloping her pours, but the immortal always felt like she was a few thousand years younger after her weekly hunt and swim.
Walking up the mostly sand buried pier, Aria made her way to the Impala as she began ringing the salt water from the now gleaming green and purple hair. Gone was a week’s worth of blood, soot, and sweat, in their place remained only smooth purple skin. There on the abandoned beach, water glistening in the Noon Sun, the siren truly lived up to her name as her entire body seemed the Blaze with new life.
Aria gathered up her discarded clothes, tossing them into her car and gently grabbed a neatly folded outfit hidden under one of the seats. Green jacket ripped at the sleeves, purple jeans with matching boots and arm bands, and pristine silver star hair clips. Her Dazzling outfits. While the siren hadn’t worn this get up for long, it had held a special place for the ancient being these past six months. This was the outfit she wore when she and her sister were last a team. And for that it would remain sacred to her for many years to come.
Some hours later Aria, in her Saturday best, found herself lounged against a brick back alley wall, waiting for her appointment to show up. At her feet lay the rather full duffle bag the siren had been filling with scraps for the past week at Rosie’s Shop. While Aria was secretly maintaining her pleasant mood, she made sure to keep a scowl fixed upon her face. As the Brute Siren, the immortal had a reputation to uphold, even if very few alive had a proper recollection of why she held such a reputation.
Tapping her fingers, Aria huffed impatiently. She had things to do, and only one day of freedom to get them done. The siren turned her head to look down the alley, only to find herself facing the very person she was looking for. Nearly jumping, and thus ruining her tough girl image, Aria glared at the hooded teenager before her. “Um. Uh. Hi Aria.”
“Thorax. Your Late.”
Shuffling the thick black boots and wringing black fingerless gloves, the named gangster worriedly shifted his barely visible sky-blue eyes left and right. “Thorax? Whose Thorax? I’m Crystal Hoof! A totally normal teenager who is not at all a working with a notorious criminal organization. Yup! Just you good buddy Crystal Hoof.” Thorax’s hopeful eyes were met with Aria’s unamused ones. With a sigh the teenager put his black hood down, revealing grey-black skin and spiky green hair. “Aria!” The boy whined. “Your only suppose to call me by my Changeling name at The Hive! I could get in trou-“
“Yeah. Don’t care. Do care why your late.”
“Oh, you know. Traffic. And stuff.”
“Right.”
While not in any way convinced, Aria let the subject drop. Stealthy as the Young Changeling was, he was terrible at keeping secrets. The ancient siren had figured ‘Crystal Hoof’s’ real name in a matter of minutes after first meeting the adorable little felon. Whatever he was trying to hide, Aria was deeply uninterested. He was probably going to go spy on some Storm Beast meeting after this and had been busy staking out the joint.
Aria grabbed the bag at her feet and tossed it to the Changeling. Nervously fumbling with the zipper, it took Thorax a little while before he opened the damned thing. Inside where dozens of used license plates. The Changelings were an interesting criminal organization in that they rarely pulled off heists or drug deals themselves, instead the clandestine organization specialized at providing a service for the other criminals in the area, asking only for a small cut of their profits in return. Thorax’s gang worked in identity theft.
If you needed to lay low from the cops for a stint, Chrysalis, the Changeling Boss, could hook you up with a safe identity three states over. If you needed passwords or codes into a bank or police precinct, she could get them for you. And if you need new registered car plates for any stolen cars…That’s where Arai came in. Unbeknownst to Rosie, Aria collected a few plates a day from the wrecked cars she pulled apart. Hidden away in her scrap bag, Aria had been working with the Changelings to get some falsified documentation. She was after all, and illegal alien, technically.
Nodding to himself as he counted the plates, Thorax tossed Aria a large manila envelope. The Siren grabbed the parcel with practiced ease, grinning at the boy’s jealous look. Teasing the stealthy Changeling always made these Saturday meetings for Aria. Opening the package, Aria pulled out the prize she had been working towards for quite a few months: A United States Passport.
“So, um, any big travel plans then?” Thorax asked nervously. Aria’s grin had gone from pleased to maniacal in a few short seconds. “We don’t see a lot of requests for one of those quite often.”
“Yup.” Aria said, “Couple weeks from now, I’ll be on a fight to Cairo.”
“As in Cairo Egypt?” Thorax asked, looking slightly perplexed.
“I’ve got an unmarked grave piss on.”
“Well, well” Said a third voice from behind the purple siren. “If that doesn’t sound like the Great Aria Blaze- I’m not sure what could.”
Swiveling around the immortal faced the second person who was able to get a drop on her in as many minutes. Tall, blood red mohawk. Scar running down her turquoise eye. And of course, the stub of an arm protruding here her right hand should have been. Tempest Shadow. And her cronies. Two large grey-haired men stood behind the new arrival, blocking any escape forward, while a short chubby man with a grey mohawk stood right beside Tempest, munching on a burrito.
Decked out in a Black leather jacket lined with red fur and the Storm Beasts symbol patched at the chest, the dark violet Crime Lord smirked at the now defensive Aria, watching with amused interest as the pigtailed immortal bought her fits up and shifted her feet into a fighting stance. Matching the stance with her own combat boots and purple jeans, Tempest gave Aria a pitting look. The towering goons behind her chuckled. Looking up at them Aria finally recognized one of the men as Rosie’s new Russian hire. Growling, Aria made to turn and bolt down the alley, but noticed Thorax standing in the center, curved Changeling knife out. So this is why he’d been late.
“I’m… I’m sorry Aria.” The Changeling pleaded. “They caught me coming here. They, they said they’d out me as a Changeling! You know what Chrysalis does to crew who get caught.”
Turning back to glare at Tempest, the Brute Siren started forward with murderous intent.
“Whoa there, sunshine.” The Crime Lord said, half chuckling, “All we want to do is talk.”
“I’m not all that into talking.” Aria growled, “So I’d suggest you get the hell out of my way.”
Tempest grinned, lips darkening as they curved. “Fine. No talking. How about signing us a little song instead?”
Aria’s eye widened in fear. They knew what she was, or at least, they knew she had magic. This wasn’t going to end well. Back in the old days, mortals would cower before a magical being such as herself. In this new scientific age however, gods, goddesses, and monsters tended find themselves strapped to a dissection table. Greed. Humanity’s truest vice.
“Now, my boss has become VERY interested in the strange occurrences centered around that little school you visited a while back.” Tempest started carefully circling the siren, slowly closing in like a ravenous shark. “So, when I unearthed you and your sister’s involvement…Well, the Storm King would be quite pleased to have a chat with you. I’m sure we could find a way to make it worth your while.”
“Thanks, but I’m doing just fine on my own.” Aria snarled. “Now get lost, and keep your HAND out of my business.”
Aria grinned maliciously as the crime boss’s face quickly shifted from arrogant pleasure to unbridled rage. Aria had a gift for weeding out people’s berserk buttons. Unfortunately this gift was often more trouble then it was worth.
“Listen you can either run with us, or we can run you into the ground. Give us an answer by the end of the week.” With that snapped retort, Tempest turned to nod at the three goons behind her, grunting the bemouths started to move while the little guy rushed up to his boss.
“Woah Tempest! That was Totally bad Ass. You where like ‘run with us or your dead’ and she was all like shitting herself and I was like Whoa and…”
“Shut up Grubber.” Tempest snarled, silencing her little goon.
Aria growled, turning around to give Thorax a piece of her mind, but the coward was already long gone. “Predicable.” Aria spat. Though her anger at the young Changeling was superficial. Her real anger was at those Russian goons and their little Gangster Princess. Punching the wall beside her with such force the bricks shattered, Aria focused her emotions into some semblance of calm. “Я вырву твою задницу и выкопаю твои глаза!” Aria shot out, turning to face the retreating felons. Well, she thought about calming down at least. And it was the thought that counts.
Freezing in place the two towering bodyguards slowly turned to face her, each giving her a deadly glare. Aria grinned, as she started forward, murder in her smile. This was going to be quite a bit of fun.
As it turns out, it was quite the opposite of fun.
Hours later as she lay crumple in warehouse dumpster, every limb of her body broken and twisted out of place, the ancient immortal contemplated how exactly her life lead her to be crammed like a sack of potatoes atop an actual sack of potatoes. A year ago, those two goons would have had their skulls caved in, brains splattering the pavement, the former Dazzling casually walking away without a scratch and a tune on her lips. These days, with her Sisters gone and powers quickly draining to nothing, Aria was lucky to be alive.
Her knife wound burst open, wider than it had been in months, as the purple siren focused her energies to setting her legs back in place. History had taught her that movement was the first thing she needed. And so, she willed her legs to heal as fast as they could. Over the sound of twisting and snapping bones and flesh, Aria thought she heard something moving in the alley outside her dumpster.
“Oh! Oh dear! What Happened!”
Aria heard the soft exclamation, and made a quick decision. While the immortal would prefer no one see her like this, healing her legs in a bed or her car would be a much better experience. And while she preferred to not be in anyone’s debt, Aria figured she could suffer few preforming a few favors to whatever mortal came to her aid. And so it was that Aria Blaze, swallowing her pride for what felt like the hundredth time in the past six month, called out for help. “HEY! IN HERE!”
Aria rolled her eyes at the faint yelp of surprise, “OY! IN THE DUMPSTER! I COULD USE A LITTLE HELP HERE!”
Silence.
Aria decided she should rephrase her request, best to be clear. “YO. SHITHEAD! I’M BLEEDING OUT ONTO A BUNCH OF MOLDY POTATOES! SO, IF YOU COULD MOVE YOUR FAT ASS…over…here…”
As the dumpster lid opened up to a setting sun, the purple girl’s angry ravings died in her throat as she got a good look at her Savior. Long flowing hair fell down a pale-yellow face brimming with concern. Teal eye widened with horror, witnessing Aria’s twisted limbs. A quivering lip looking to scarred or shocked to say anything. It was one of them. One of the Rainbooms.
“Oh my! It’s one of you!” Flutter shy gasped, remembering the sirens from the Battle of the Bands, “Your Hurt! Here! Let me Help you out!”
Aria closed her eyes and breathed out a sharp, heartfelt “Fuck me.” As the shy Rainboom began to fret over the grumpy Dazzling
It was at this moment, with most of her bones broken and one of her most hated enemies shocked eyes starring down at her, Aria decided something: Saturdays were The Worst.