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Tyrant King Sonata Dusk
“...were pronounced dead as Sonata Dusk crowned herself Tyrant King amidst the wreckage of Manehatten. The battle between the three has an estimated body count of one hundred thousand and rising. Further details―”
“Oh, they’re talking about me on the radio!” Sonata said happily before she glued her blood-soaked face back onto the glass shielding the heated food rollers, her bloodstained hands pressed upon it as well.
The cashier was honestly more upset that he’d have to clean the shielding rather than at the sight of the mass-murderer-cum-physical-god before him. Getting mad at her would be like getting upset at a tornado or a hurricane, he reasoned, so he directed his rage towards things he could control.
A groan escaped from the cashier’s throat. “Look, you’ve been staring at the food for like half an hour already. Could you please pick something so that you don’t chase away the customers?”
“Stuff it,” Sonata growled. “It’s like three in the morning. I doubt you’re getting any customers right now.”
She had been coming to this particular convenience store since before she and her sisters claimed dominion over the planet, and the pay clerk wasn’t exactly certain if she realized that she could literally empty the store without resistance. He wasn’t about to remind her, though. Best to keep up rapport as if nothing had changed.
“Hm, okay,” Sonata piped up, “I’ll take like eight taquitos and, um…” she threw a home dry-cleaning kit on the counter, “this, and… um… oh yeah! A pack of smokes!” She giggled. “They really help take the edge off after a bloodbath.”
The cashier sighed as he put the taquitos and the cigarettes on the counter, upon which Sonata expertly opened the pack and pulled one out with her mouth.
“Oh yeah, ring me up for a lighter, too,” she said as she grabbed a lighter and lit the cigarette inside the store.
“Sonata, I keep telling you that you’re not allowed to smoke inside the store.”
She inhaled deeply, then exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. “Are you commanding the Tyrant King?”
“Sonata,” he said with a grunt, “you can’t be a king.”
Sonata delicately pouted as she flicked the ash off of the cigarette. “Says you. I can be whatever I want, as evidenced by recent events,” she said while pointing to the radio.
“Fair point,” the cashier said. He didn’t like it when she smoked inside because their manager would complain when they checked on the store. “That’ll be thirty-four fifty-three. How will you be paying?”
Sonata reached into her pocket and pulled out a credit card. “I will be paying with,” she said as she examined it, “Hurricane Run’s credit card today.” She chuckled as she handed it over to the cashier. “I mean, I’m covered in his blood so he at least should be paying for the dry-cleaning kit, right?”
The cashier inhaled sharply as he ran the credit card through the machine, which accepted it. Thank goodness, too, because the smoke was getting on his nerves. He bagged her stuff and handed it to her.
Sonata took another drag of her cigarette. “Thanks.” She moved to exit the store, but paused as her hand touched the handle and looked back at the cashier. “Hey there.”
He pressed his eyes shut, then opened them. “What?”
“You’re probably wondering why I don’t just steal everything I need from this store.”
The cashier’s breath caught in his throat. “The thought had crossed my mind, I admit.”
Sonata took in and exhaled another thick plume of smoke. “Well, it’s just that, all my life, I’ve either been treated as inferior by my sisters or, more recently, as sort of a, uh, evil goddess thingy by most people.” She smiled as him. “You’re the only person I’ve come across that treats me as an equal, warts and all.”
He pursed his lips. “And by warts, I assume you mean lynching people by their own entrails and dropping people from the tops of buildings to watch them explode on the pavement.”
Sonata pointed at the cashier with her cigarette-holding hand. “See, you get it!” She paused at the door for a moment. “Um, I guess I’ll see you next time,” she said as she exited the convenience store.
The cashier stared at the bloodstained shielding before he grabbed the cleaning supplies and got to work on wiping off the blood.
I just really wish she’d stop smoking inside of the store.
“Oh, they’re talking about me on the radio!” Sonata said happily before she glued her blood-soaked face back onto the glass shielding the heated food rollers, her bloodstained hands pressed upon it as well.
The cashier was honestly more upset that he’d have to clean the shielding rather than at the sight of the mass-murderer-cum-physical-god before him. Getting mad at her would be like getting upset at a tornado or a hurricane, he reasoned, so he directed his rage towards things he could control.
A groan escaped from the cashier’s throat. “Look, you’ve been staring at the food for like half an hour already. Could you please pick something so that you don’t chase away the customers?”
“Stuff it,” Sonata growled. “It’s like three in the morning. I doubt you’re getting any customers right now.”
She had been coming to this particular convenience store since before she and her sisters claimed dominion over the planet, and the pay clerk wasn’t exactly certain if she realized that she could literally empty the store without resistance. He wasn’t about to remind her, though. Best to keep up rapport as if nothing had changed.
“Hm, okay,” Sonata piped up, “I’ll take like eight taquitos and, um…” she threw a home dry-cleaning kit on the counter, “this, and… um… oh yeah! A pack of smokes!” She giggled. “They really help take the edge off after a bloodbath.”
The cashier sighed as he put the taquitos and the cigarettes on the counter, upon which Sonata expertly opened the pack and pulled one out with her mouth.
“Oh yeah, ring me up for a lighter, too,” she said as she grabbed a lighter and lit the cigarette inside the store.
“Sonata, I keep telling you that you’re not allowed to smoke inside the store.”
She inhaled deeply, then exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. “Are you commanding the Tyrant King?”
“Sonata,” he said with a grunt, “you can’t be a king.”
Sonata delicately pouted as she flicked the ash off of the cigarette. “Says you. I can be whatever I want, as evidenced by recent events,” she said while pointing to the radio.
“Fair point,” the cashier said. He didn’t like it when she smoked inside because their manager would complain when they checked on the store. “That’ll be thirty-four fifty-three. How will you be paying?”
Sonata reached into her pocket and pulled out a credit card. “I will be paying with,” she said as she examined it, “Hurricane Run’s credit card today.” She chuckled as she handed it over to the cashier. “I mean, I’m covered in his blood so he at least should be paying for the dry-cleaning kit, right?”
The cashier inhaled sharply as he ran the credit card through the machine, which accepted it. Thank goodness, too, because the smoke was getting on his nerves. He bagged her stuff and handed it to her.
Sonata took another drag of her cigarette. “Thanks.” She moved to exit the store, but paused as her hand touched the handle and looked back at the cashier. “Hey there.”
He pressed his eyes shut, then opened them. “What?”
“You’re probably wondering why I don’t just steal everything I need from this store.”
The cashier’s breath caught in his throat. “The thought had crossed my mind, I admit.”
Sonata took in and exhaled another thick plume of smoke. “Well, it’s just that, all my life, I’ve either been treated as inferior by my sisters or, more recently, as sort of a, uh, evil goddess thingy by most people.” She smiled as him. “You’re the only person I’ve come across that treats me as an equal, warts and all.”
He pursed his lips. “And by warts, I assume you mean lynching people by their own entrails and dropping people from the tops of buildings to watch them explode on the pavement.”
Sonata pointed at the cashier with her cigarette-holding hand. “See, you get it!” She paused at the door for a moment. “Um, I guess I’ll see you next time,” she said as she exited the convenience store.
The cashier stared at the bloodstained shielding before he grabbed the cleaning supplies and got to work on wiping off the blood.
I just really wish she’d stop smoking inside of the store.
A strange and gory little slice of life, this. I do appreciate it presenting Sonata as the sailor-goring predator that she is, but beyond that, I’m not really sure what to make of it. It just kind of happens and stares at me, hands on its figurative hips and daring me to say something.
(Something. Your move, Sonata.)
But yeah, I’m going to need more to offer anything more constructive.
(Something. Your move, Sonata.)
But yeah, I’m going to need more to offer anything more constructive.
This was a fun, odd little dialogue. Outside of that though, it isn't very clearly explained. I think a story expanding further on this idea would be interesting, like an alternate universe where the sirens were actually active predators instead of secretive. I also think it would be nice to know exactly how she pulled off taking over a city, and why, and all that. Given the word limit though, you couldn't exactly have expanded on all that. For what it is, it's an enjoyable little read.
I question everything about this setting, but the story itself is quite well told, so bravo for that.
You wouldn't normally consider the downfall of human civilization as a palate cleanser, but that's not the way winners think.
This was great, I had a goofy smile throughout most of the story. I'm assuming the events of Rainbow Rocks played out differently, Sirens took over, had an inevitable fight to the death, and Sonata was the sole survivor. Cue: bloodbath.
All I could say about the story really concerns the events that came before it, and I'm sure you'll love to hear the same line about how this fits into a larger story, and fleshing out that story would make this stand out more, but judging this entry solely on its merits and as a standalone scene, I think it's perfect.
Of course, by perfect I mean that I don't think this has anything that I would add or remove from it. It succeeds in what it sets out to do, show us a moment in the life of a character that shows that deep down they're just as human as anyone else in spite of other circumstances, all presented in a humourous way.
Kudos, and long live Tyrant King Sonata Dusk.
This was great, I had a goofy smile throughout most of the story. I'm assuming the events of Rainbow Rocks played out differently, Sirens took over, had an inevitable fight to the death, and Sonata was the sole survivor. Cue: bloodbath.
All I could say about the story really concerns the events that came before it, and I'm sure you'll love to hear the same line about how this fits into a larger story, and fleshing out that story would make this stand out more, but judging this entry solely on its merits and as a standalone scene, I think it's perfect.
Of course, by perfect I mean that I don't think this has anything that I would add or remove from it. It succeeds in what it sets out to do, show us a moment in the life of a character that shows that deep down they're just as human as anyone else in spite of other circumstances, all presented in a humourous way.
Kudos, and long live Tyrant King Sonata Dusk.
Tʜɪs ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇ ɪs ʙʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴀᴄᴇ Tʏʀᴀɴᴛ Kɪɴɢ Sᴏɴᴀᴛᴀ Dᴜsᴋ.
Wᴏᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴀɴ ᴇᴍᴘᴛʏ ʜᴜsᴋ? Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ғᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ᴛʜᴇ Dᴜsᴋ
Wᴏᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴀɴ ᴇᴍᴘᴛʏ ʜᴜsᴋ? Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ғᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ᴛʜᴇ Dᴜsᴋ
I feared with the beginning that you would go for a gore fic but the next sentences got me wrong. It was pleasant to see going for a slice of life dialog between Sonata and the cashier.
The reason why Sonata doesn't immediately get rid of him is good but maybe you should have keep it more subtle and not tell everything with that line
A solid story, I like to see my expectations being contradicted, especially when the first impression is unpleasant.
The reason why Sonata doesn't immediately get rid of him is good but maybe you should have keep it more subtle and not tell everything with that line
I’ve either been treated as inferior by my sisters or, more recently, as sort of a, uh, evil goddess thingy by most people.” She smiled as him. “You’re the only person I’ve come across that treats me as an equal, warts and all.
A solid story, I like to see my expectations being contradicted, especially when the first impression is unpleasant.
Actually pretty funny in how surreal it is, although I'm struggling to put it in perspective or say anything meaningful about it. >>FanOfMostEverything says it more eloquently than I ever could:
I see this winding up somewhere in the middle of my ballot; the writing's sharp enough to get it that high. The premise is outlandish, but the comic/straight man relationship between Sonata and the cashier makes me laugh.
Also, if this isn't Syeekoh, I'll eat Zaid's hat.
It just kind of happens and stares at me, hands on its figurative hips and daring me to say something.
I see this winding up somewhere in the middle of my ballot; the writing's sharp enough to get it that high. The premise is outlandish, but the comic/straight man relationship between Sonata and the cashier makes me laugh.
Also, if this isn't Syeekoh, I'll eat Zaid's hat.
The conclusion is set up very well on the cashier's side, but I didn't see a whole lot of indication on Sonata's side; as it is, that remark of hers seemed oddly prescient, or possibly a little staged?
On the whole this was really good, but I think I'd have liked a touch more foreshadowing in Sonata's actions, before she just pops the question like that.
Still, it's going to score pretty well by me, for just general excellence.
On the whole this was really good, but I think I'd have liked a touch more foreshadowing in Sonata's actions, before she just pops the question like that.
Still, it's going to score pretty well by me, for just general excellence.
I'm afraid this story didn't work for me, for a few reasons. I'm not sure if this is meant to be a surreal comedy or anything, but it seems really jarring and ridiculous that a random cashier would just chat casually with a mega-powerful mass murdering psycho waltzing into his shop. Also, it's been a while since I've seen the movie, but the premise seems just... random, with no real relation to the canon events.
It also feels very much like a Not-Pony Story, too. You could replace "Sonata Dusk" with any generic name, and Manehatten with Manhattan, and nobody would be able to tell this was entered in a FiM contest.
It also feels very much like a Not-Pony Story, too. You could replace "Sonata Dusk" with any generic name, and Manehatten with Manhattan, and nobody would be able to tell this was entered in a FiM contest.
>>JudgeDeadd
To elaborate on what I meant by the story being "random": I'm not sure I can satisfactorily explain why, but I find it really hard to swallow the premise of Sonata being a mass-murdering monster. [edit: As I said, I don't remember the movie that well, but I don't recall her being that kind of a Tirek-level omnicidal maniac.]
I could accept it if the story had explicitly focused on why this unusual change happened, how did the other characters react to it, etc.
But instead, the story just relates a random moment (Sonata Dusk buys cigarettes) which doesn't at all mesh with the background premise (why would a mass-murdering monster stop to buy cigarettes? Why doesn't the cashier care at all? Is this supposed to be a comedy? It doesn't feel like one, what with all the blood and death.)
In short, it feels like a generic slice-of-life story, except with one pointless change to the canon, with nothing interesting coming out of it.
To elaborate on what I meant by the story being "random": I'm not sure I can satisfactorily explain why, but I find it really hard to swallow the premise of Sonata being a mass-murdering monster. [edit: As I said, I don't remember the movie that well, but I don't recall her being that kind of a Tirek-level omnicidal maniac.]
I could accept it if the story had explicitly focused on why this unusual change happened, how did the other characters react to it, etc.
But instead, the story just relates a random moment (Sonata Dusk buys cigarettes) which doesn't at all mesh with the background premise (why would a mass-murdering monster stop to buy cigarettes? Why doesn't the cashier care at all? Is this supposed to be a comedy? It doesn't feel like one, what with all the blood and death.)
In short, it feels like a generic slice-of-life story, except with one pointless change to the canon, with nothing interesting coming out of it.
Well even if it's not the correct name she can call herself whatever she wants. I mean if Idi Amin can be the last King of Scotland after all. She could call herself the Hotdog Queen Eastern Green for all it matters.
On one hand I think it's pretty well written and kind of fun. When one works retail they pretty much see everything at some point. On the other hand I'm not sure how the story fits into the theme of The Twilight Zone.
On one hand I think it's pretty well written and kind of fun. When one works retail they pretty much see everything at some point. On the other hand I'm not sure how the story fits into the theme of The Twilight Zone.
>>SPark
This sums up my thoughts on this story succinctly, so I am just going to quote it and acknowledge I had fun despite this being utterly insane.
This sums up my thoughts on this story succinctly, so I am just going to quote it and acknowledge I had fun despite this being utterly insane.
Well written, but I can't get past the jarring disconnect between the violence (not just a fight, but a "hundred thousand" dead) and the cashier's reaction. If it'd kept to cartoon violence (e.g. nobody dies, just lots of property damage) this would play better to me. But... seeing someone literally more concerned with the no-smoking rule than the death of thousands is haunting. I don't know if you were intentionally going for this particular type of internal dichotomy, but... well I'm going to just go ahead and Godwin myself here. The Nazis were famous for their anti-smoking stance, yet seemed nonplussed by certain other atrocities.
Yes, I know I'm probably reading too much into this, but... I just can't stomach an "innocent bystander" when the crimes are of this magnitude. >>Misternick mentioned "The Last King of Scotland" and if you've seen that story (the movie's pretty good) then you know what I mean. So yeah, I want to like this, I want to enjoy the cognitive dissonance here, but I can't get past the unforgivable amount of evil.
Yes, I know I'm probably reading too much into this, but... I just can't stomach an "innocent bystander" when the crimes are of this magnitude. >>Misternick mentioned "The Last King of Scotland" and if you've seen that story (the movie's pretty good) then you know what I mean. So yeah, I want to like this, I want to enjoy the cognitive dissonance here, but I can't get past the unforgivable amount of evil.
