A dark alley, an open door, and a tiny bouncer with her arms crossed guarding the way. Aria Blaze walked with her shoulders hunched and a sour expression on her face. The night air was chilly so she stuffed her cold hands into the front pocket of her sweatshirt. She looked altogether mean when she came to the door, but the bouncer still held her up.

“Five bit cover.” said the kid, who Aria recognized as Applejack’s younger sister.

“For what?” asked Aria, annoyed. The kid just shrugged and held out her hand. Reluctantly, Aria fished out 5 singles and stuffed the crumpled wad in the kid’s hand, who didn’t bother counting, stepping aside to let Aria through.

Aria rolled her eyes as she crossed the threshold into the little club. The music wasn’t half bad, though she couldn’t see the DJs face beneath their hood.

“Coat check.” came a voice to her left, and she saw another kid sitting on a pile of clothes, not all of them coats.

“Uhh, no thanks.” she said, about to head to the dance floor, but the kid persisted.

“Sorry, gotta check your coat.”

“I’m not even wearing a coat!” said Aria, already regretting her decision to ditch the other sirens.

The kid just shrugged, like the one at the door. “Gotta check something.” they said, eyeing Aria’s hoodie.

“Ugh. Fine.” Aria pulled the hoodie up over her chest, then her head, shrugging it off entirely. “There, take it.” she said, holding it out with one hand. Her face was flushed, having picket the worst night to wear the revealing sports bra Sonata had given her after she commented on a hot jogger during their morning run.

Sonata was always trying to be helpful, trying being the operative word.

The kid took it without comment, adding it to the hoard.

“I want that back before I leave.” she said, crossing her arms to brace against the draft from the open door. The kid didn’t seem to be paying her any mind. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Frazzled and underdressed, Aria made her way into the loose collection of writhing bodies drenched in colored light. She didn’t feel like dancing, at least not yet.

On the far side of the sea of silhouettes was a modest bar. Aria seated herself at the counter on one of the two barstools and waited for a moment before a drink came sliding her way. “Hey, I didn’t even order anything.”

The bartender shrugged, a gesture that was quickly becoming trite. “Don’t have anything else anyway.” they said, returning an unmarked bottle to the tiny shelf on the back wall.

Aria decided not to bother and took a sip. Whatever it was it burned, but it was good. It reminded her of ocean spray and morning fog. She looked around, at the colorful lights, at the mysterious DJ and the sparse crowd of dancers just… doing their own thing.

She didn’t recognize anyone, though it was a little hard to tell in the strange lighting. Not that it mattered, really. Sure people feared the Sirens, but mostly they feared Adagio. And why shouldn’t they? It was because of her that the Sirens never had any real friends. Every time even a hint of Equestrian magic showed itself she threw everything else aside to try and claim it, to ‘regain what she had lost.’

But what had they lost, really? The ability to manipulate people through song? To invoke terror in the hearts of ponies and people alike? To never truly understand what it was like to love, or to be loved?

Aria tried to sip from her glass and found it empty, and the bartender had disappeared. She left her seat and wandered onto the dance floor, finding her own space and closing her eyes. The music was mellow and somewhat sad, but would pick up now and again, pulsing like a drawn-out heartbeat.

Gradually she began to move her body, adopting the flow of the music. She slid her hands up and down her thighs, imagining herself swimming through the seas of Old Equestria. When the beat picked up, she raised her arms and shook her her hips along with it, matching it with sharp, percussive movements.

The tempo slowed, and she turned her hip movements into fluid figure-eights, drawing her fingertips down her body from her shoulders, tracing the outlines of her breasts, the curve of her waist, then slipping her hands into her pants.

She remembered the great eels that once danced beneath the shimmering waves. She remembered their undulating motions, and rolled her belly in mimicry.

What had happened to those days of freedom, where she and her sister sirens could be themselves, naked and unabashed? She hooked her thumbs over the hem of her pants, tugging them down as she followed the music, swinging her hips like the whirlpools Charybdis was so fond of conjuring.

Her body was heating up, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world when her pants slipped down to her knees, her panties folding over themselves and following suit. She let them drop, raising her arms again and shimmying until they pooled around her ankles.

Now she was rooted, rising from the ocean floor like kelp drifting in the currents. She did not need to leave her spot, her glistening body resplendent in the soft sunlight of the shallows. It felt so good. She wanted to drift off to sleep. Slowly, she drew her hand up along her inner thigh, settling on her pubic mound. With two fingers splayed she dipped them down, rubbing either side of her labia, a third finger curled, pressing down on her clitoris.

She let out a gasp, and the music stopped. She drew in a breath, not through gills but into her lungs. She opened her eyes and saw every other pair in the club looking at her. She looked down at herself, bottomless, her hand teasing her pussy. Fuck.

Author's Note

Wrote this pretty quickly for the “She Will be Adored” competition, which is looking to bring attention to Aria Blaze. I figured it would be a good opportunity. Hope you like it.