Mistress (Adagio's Big Comeback)

You spend the time Adagio's out tidying up the remnants of your device by categorising the remaining parts between spares, those that can be used with the main device and collecting the others for disposal. It's sad seeing a device incomplete, even more when so much of it was torn and slapped together in ways that goes against its nature, but the potential within it already surprises you. You guess there's something deeply self-referential in that.

No sooner than you have everything squared away, you hear the jingle of keys, their insertion into the door and Adagio enters with a brown paper bag. She kicks off her boots, heads straight to the kitchen and unpacks.

The mundane display of someone you know was once capable of such tremendous feats of magic again dampens your spirit, even more than the state of your emitter. The way she just puts the groceries away, matter of factly, like she's done it a thousand times. You guess she really has, and hasn't had a choice.

You say, “you want me to do that for you?”

“Huh?” Adagio looks at you for a moment, then the bag, then shrugs, “no, I've got it. You have no idea how I organise things here.”

“So? I'll learn, you can show me.”

Her brow furrows. “Radian, drop it.”

Deflated, you just sit on the couch and, once Adagio finishes unpacking, she sits beside you and hands you a cheap, off-brand can of cola. “Thanks,” you say, open the can and drink before a long silence sets in as she sips her own.

Adagio finally takes a deep breath and asks, “look, I understand you have a fan worship thing, but could you ease up a little? It's seriously starting to get creepy. Besides, I don't sing any more.”

Your eye twitches. “This coming from a girl who once demanded, no, commanded adoration? I wasn't just a fan, Adagio. I... you took a lot of bad stuff in my life and made the load lighter with your songs, and that went double for when you had your magic as a siren.”

“I just haven't been inspired for a while, I guess. Lyrics used to just fow when I needed them, but it's difficult when life's just constantly pushing down on you. Anyway, where did you even hear about me being a siren?”

“You'd be surprised what Sunset and her friends talked about occasionally; the people they know in the other world, magic occurrences, names, places... especially when you own a directional microphone and kept snooping in on them like I did back in CHS.”

Adagio scowls and says, through her teeth, “ugh, Sunset...”

You chuckle and sip the soda. “I know, right? She used to make my life hell. I think that's what made me interested in you to begin with, since you seemed at odds.”

“And let me guess. The enemy of your enemy was a friend, right?”

Hot damn, she nailed it in one. It takes you a moment to reform your thoughts. “I mean... you're not wrong? That's how it started, anyway. Then you, Aria and Sonata also helped me focus on something besides my home and school life helped a lot, even if you didn't know it. First setting up the battle of the bands sound equipment, lighting and such, then listening your songs. It was amazing. I didn't care about what happened to me any more. For those moments, I could just forget the world even existed. Whether through your magic or just putting in some earbuds and getting lost in my home projects to some Dazzlings songs.”

“You realise we were sowing disharmony and hatred to feed on the conflict-derived energy, right? How could that be comforting?” She leers at you. “You're all kinds of weird.”

You snicker. “Yep! That I am. I never really fit in at school, so much so that even the other smart kids found me a downer. I just didn't have anyone who I could rely on. Even my parents. The one oasis I had was the Dazzlings. I guess I felt I owed you something, somehow. Especially now, seeing you like this. You deserve better.”

Adagio looks you in the eyes for a few seconds, clearly shocked. “Radian, lis-”

There's a knock on the door, and you hop up another parcel, and when you close the door and look at Adagio, she's checking her phone again.

“What part is it this time?” she asks.

“Enough that I can start the main energy device.”

“Well, have at it, I guess I'll watch.”

This is far more laborious than the handheld, if simpler and less fiddly. Both devices will be able to do the same thing: scan, display the energy readings as various frequencies, convert and broadcast them. The core difference being the main unit will be able to suck in a lot more power, and generate it into raw electricity.

It's so simple you even get a little bored while connecting the wiring and think back on your last conversation topic. You decide to try your luck asking, “so... why did the Dazzlings break up?”

Adagio's curiosity is replaced with a fierce scowl. “This again!? I told you it's none of your busi- ugh!” She slaps her phone down on the couch. “I fucked up and pushed them too hard, alright!?”

“I know you bickered, but everyone does. You were amazing as a band. What changed?”

She takes a deep breath and grumbles. “Fine, let's get this over with so you'll get off of my back! Do you remember how me and my bandmates sounded when we lost our magic?”

“I was kind of wiped out from your spell-slash-performance, then the Rainbooms interrupting, but I seem to remember you sounded pretty awful.” You note she might take that the wrong way. Maybe try a joke? “Nothing a little autotune couldn't fix though, right? That's pretty magic too.”

Nope, that didn't work. Adagio seethes at you. “Joke about that again and I don't care if I get evicted, I'll jam your machines down your throat!” She grits her teeth, no doubt internally counts to ten, then calms. “But yes, fine, we did sound awful. You would too in our place! Anyone would. Imagine, living your entire life with singing as your core gift, the very fibre of your being and the very way you projected your magic! Then having it stripped from you for one mistake. We had to learn from scratch and we had no other prospects. Aria was always second guessing me and Sonata? Ugh! She couldn't even master a toaster let alone a job!”

“But I know you got back into singing, right?” You pull out the poster from your pocket. “You got solid billing at the Starswirled festival.”

“Sure, we built ourselves up from nothing,” Adagio says and then glances to the side and whispers, “again.” She folds her arms and continues, “we still fought, but we didn't exactly have anyone else in our lives so the status quo was maintained. The problem started when a talent scout turned up after the Starswirled festival. Apparently Sonata was just what they were looking for with this children's cartoon that's oddly popular with supposedly grown men. Of course, Sonata asked us first. I said no, Aria said it might be a good way to expand our options since it felt like our music career was still unstable.”

“Unstable?” You lick your teeth and make an educated guess. “Is this because of the arguments?”

Adagio turns her head away and obscures her face with her thick, orange hair. “They weren't just arguments any more. When we had a common goal, the need to feed on negative energy, it was easy to keep things under control. We needed power, and while any one of us can cause people to fight, it takes a lot longer and is far less subtle compared to when the three of us harmonise. Without our magic?” She sighs. “Cracks started to form. We would have huge disagreements with other bands and venue managers. Aria was always critical of me, but now that we're just humans, how was I to say we were better than anyone else? Sonata just went silent after we had a bigger argument than normal. When we got back to Canterlot City and divided up the gig money, the next day... Sonata was gone.”

“Without a single word?”

She nods. For a moment you swear her lower lip trembles, but she scowls. “Of course, I still had her number. I called her and... said some things I'm not proud of. Aria just said nothing while I ranted, and she left too once I said I didn't care if Sonata came back. She said there wasn't any reason to stay, and she needed some time to sort out some things. Aria even changed her phone number and left town.”

“Damn... you still have Sonata's number? Maybe you could-”

Adagio snaps, “I'm not talking to that traitor! She can come crawling back to me when she's done with that ridiculous show about talking animals. This conversation is over!” She silently steams for some time, and honestly resembles the old Adagio in terms of her presence and aura, but then sighs, her anger deflates, then she says, “I need a drink.”

You did chase leads for the sisters online when trying to find any of them for your equestrian magic experiment. Aria was a lost cause; you have absolutely no idea where she went.

There were rumours of Sonata getting into voice acting, and even mentions of the show, Guardians of Gale Glade. You've checked the cast list and there's no Sonata Dusk anywhere, not even under the singing parts, so you can only assume Sonata's using an alias. More importantly, that show's doing just great for a walking, talking toy commercial; you doubt she's going to come crawling back unless Sonata herself is getting ripped off.

You hadn't deep dived into it before, since you found Adagio not long after hitting that first wall with Sonata, but a quick search on your phone reveals, sure enough, Sonata Dusk appearing at a convention for a Q&A session. The list of voice actress names narrows it down to five in that particular panel. It wouldn't take too long cross-referencing this stuff but, honestly, if Adagio isn't down for getting in contact with Sonata, you really doubt you can do anything at this point, so you stop chasing that lead.

You watch Adagio as she pours herself a liquid lunch from a small cabinet full of bottles of assorted, cheap spirits and think better than to press the issue for now. By luck and mercy for a distraction, the door goes and you collect another parcel.

The casing and shielding for your handheld device! Your fingers twitch with anticipation as you sit down and get back to work.

Adagio doesn't watch you this time, she just knocks back her drink in a few gulps and keeps her eyes locked on her phone. You briefly wonder just how little she seems to respond to alcohol, considering how lucid she seemed at the bar with what had to be a good six empty glasses of Siren's Sorrow's in front of her.

Back on task, you open the casing and piece together the penultimate device by layering the insides with electromagnetic shielding. Barring the small panels on the outside that collect ambient magic and the primary transceiver poised at the front, it's fully protected from outside interference.

You still need to install the spectrometer display for scanning and the control panel for precision controls, but this is it; this will be the ultimate test to your theory. Thanks to your list and schematics, it comes together smoothly, and besides once more using thin screwdrivers to control the thing through the casing screw holes, you finish just in time for Adagio to stand and head to refresh her drink.

You chuckle and say, “I've got something that'll cheer you up; feel like getting your powers back?”

Adagio glares at you for a second, still no doubt riding her bad memories, but catches herself and clears her throat. “It looks like a megaphone... an ugly megaphone at that. Is it really going to be that much better?”

“It is technically a megaphone case, but it protects all the components from any sort of external hiss, or interference,” you say with a grin as Adagio rolls her hand over and over to hurry you up. “The important part is that this is as powerful as it can be, Adagio. It's time.”

She puts the empty glass in the drinks cabinet, spreads her arms apart and says, “do it.”

The settings are right from before, so you crank up the power and flip the switch.

Adagio cries out as her eyes flash and glow bright red. Her ears push through her hair, now horse-like in shape and, this time, her fin-like wings spread and flourish. Her hair grows longer, resembling a tail as it flutters about.

Adagio floats off the ground and laughs as an aura surrounds her of burning gold, which begins to take shape. A spectral, beast-like thing with a long muzzle, hooved forelegs and a great, sweeping crest or fins, it's hard to tell.

But Adagio suddenly reverts in the blink of an eye and falls to the ground with a thud.

You say, “shit, Adagio! Are you alright?”

She rises to her knees and feels the side of her head. “I think so, but that stupid machine didn't work!”

Adagio's not only wrong, but it defies logic. The device is still receiving, converting and pumping the right kind of magic, and you confirm that with your phone; it's pushing out energy far beyond your original calculations, and while your phone's sensor app isn't great (and is illegally hacked software, but it was all that worked with the scanning components), you're confident you've done everything right. Hell, you'd be proud, if you weren't currently in a panic about Adagio. You flip the standby switch and run to her to help her up.

You hook your arm under hers, and she leans on you, stands, then pushes you away and shouts “get the hell off of me!”

“Relax, we'll fix this,” you say, and try to redirect the conversation, “what did you feel when it cut out, and how do you feel now? There might be something I can do to give it that final push.” You check your sensor app; she's radiating the frequency you bombarded her with, the type of energy that resonated with her as a siren. You're actually quite concerned that this much magic forced into someone might be dangerous if it turns out to not be compatible.

But something changes and you stare at the display. It's... dropping?

Adagio winces and shakes her head, causing her thick curls to bounce and swing around her shoulders. “My head hurts a little from the bump, but otherwise I-” She winces and gasps.

The large spike of siren resonance continues to decay, and you hope it's just wearing off, but that anomaly...

A second spike surges up, radically different. The damn app isn't clear what it is, but it's a very different waveform.

“Radian? I feel hot... what's...” She snaps her eyes shut and stumbles back a step, then wraps her arms around herself as you hear a series of beeps from your phone as the second spike tops out. Adagio's whole body clenches up and she trembles, then she hisses and you try and get some idea of what's going on.

There's a subtle movement to her. Not her quaking or her twitching. Her tights, sexily skin tight, have little triangles sewn on them. They... warp and stretch. You watch as her camisole exposes a little more flat belly. Flat? There's a vertical groove forming. Abdominal muscles? She didn't have them stand out before.

She jolts and stands upright, her arms slack but shoulders hunched, and she arches backward and bares her teeth. Everything before could be put down to your panic misunderstanding, but she's taller, 5'5 no longer. She's your height, 5'8.

No. Not any more she isn't. She yelps again and you hear a sharp rip, a lower tearing sound and you watch as her thighs strain and sheer through her tights, exposing her golden skin. As her jacket pulls apart from her expanding torso, she looks bigger in the chest too. Suddenly, Adagio spasms and doubles over, and you grab her shoulders to support her, but her trembling stops. She sucks in a long, heavy breath and grunts in relief.

Adagio suddenly snaps a death-glare into your eyes through her hair, wild fire burning in the dark pink and her pupils are dilated. She lunges, grabs you by the collar with one arm and lifts you clear off the floor.

Holy shit she's strong!

She snarls, “what did you do to me!?”

You rasp, “I don't know! I don't-”

Adagio drops you and just stands still. Her breathing becomes heavy. She's red in the face as her anger boils down into confusion. Then... something else. She gulps and bites her lip and her hands gently feel her body.

You have a chance to look her over as she fidgets, and realise she's got to be a couple of inches over six feet tall. Her legs have more... you don't know what to call it. Nuance? Ripples of smooth muscle beneath the smooth skin peeking through the torn nylon, the waistband of her shorts lack the wrinkles of the elastic, and are now strained to their limit. Her shoulders look broader and confined by the jacket, and her once flat belly looks hard and toned. She's not ripped or anything, but anyone else would say she lifts.

Adagio whimpers, flicks her eyes between you and the bedroom, then she barges past you, enters her room and slams the door shut.

And after a few moments, you hear her begin moaning. Loud, unabashed, rhythmical.

There's no mistaking it. She's taking care of an 'itch'. It crescendos into a scream that you can only assume people on the other floors of the apartment complex can hear. A few moments of panting... then she just carries right on. Again. And again.

What the hell just happened?

* * *