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# BluntTong - Actias's voice

By: mothpone on Mar 24th, 2014 | syntax: None | size: 9.97 KB | hits: 47 | expires: Never
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1. >This is a story about a mare named 'Actias.'
2. >now, Actias was a simple mare with simple needs
3. >but there is one thing that she would always ask for;
4. >every day and every night, she would pester Anonymous, the resident human, to take her to the town's choir auditions
5. >for she liked singing
6. >and she liked singing a lot
7. >every week on Wednesday morning, she would sing to Anonymous and her other friends in the park
8. >they all loved her singing voice
9. >but, the thing about Actias is;
10. >she doesn't sing
11. >she squeaks
12. >but even so, her dear friends would cheer and stomp their hooves for her, encouraging her, spurring on her interest in the vocal arts
13. >she pestered Anonymous at a greater rate than she would before, almost pleading with him to bring her to town hall for an audition
14. >and every time, Anonymous said 'no,' but never gave her a reason for his decision, always dodging her accusing questions
16. >Until one day, Anonymous finally said;
17. >"Yes."
18. >Actias could not believe her ears!
19. >she had finally gotten her wish to sing in the town choir!
20. >and now, today, they would go to town hall for the audition
21. >Actias would finally sing in the town choir for all to hear!
23. "Anonymous, I still can't believe you finally gave me a 'yes'!"
24. >You are in the town square, looking about at the market surrounding you as you stroll towards the towering building ahead of you
25. >there's all sorts of things on sale; pears, apples, applesauce, and even nectar!
26. >town life is certainly luxurious, what with all the expensive foods around here
27. >"I can't believe it either."
28. >you 'humph' in mock-annoyance, but you're still giddy from the thought
29. >the sky is clear, the birds are singing (much like you will be), and the air is nice and cool...
30. >it's such a perfect day~!
31. >town hall is certainly smaller than you remember, though
32. >you contemplate the decision to get Anon to buy you some nectar, but decide against it
33. >that's probably pushing a bit too far
35. >Reaching the monolithic construction, you push open the large metal doors
36. >or, try to, at least
37. >they're a bit heavy
38. >not wanting to wait around, you make Anonymous open them for you
39. >he grumbles something under his breath, but pushes the door through the portcullis anyway.
40. "Thanks, Anon."
41. >he grumbles more, probably "you're welcome," but you're too entranced by the room's lighting to notice
42. >the light reflects off the floor and walls, throwing it around the place
43. >it's...
44. >beautiful
45. >it's as if you had stepped into a supernova!
46. >oh, that's perfect...
47. "Aaaaaoooooohhh..."
48. >something that feels vaguely viscous slips out of your mouth
49. >"Allllrighty, then. Actias, come on, we've got business to attend to."
50. >the offending voice's arms grasp you into a tight hold as the lights...
51. >...Oh. They're gone now.
52. >...What just happened?
54. >"This is why I got you those shades to wear."
55. "It's not my fault that I happen to like lights!"
56. >"Well, you can't just go drooling all over the floors in public, now can you?"
57. "Hmmph!"
58. >whatever
59. >the matter is dropped, and you are set on the floor gently
60. >you notice that you're in a corridor, right in front of another pair of doors
61. >there's a door on the left
62. >and there's a door on the right
63. >you step through the one on the right, the one with a sticky note that reads 'Auditions' on it
64. >they clearly didn't think it'd take this long for the singer's positions to fill up
65. >it's a small room, with a corner desk and chair fitted snugly against the walls of the corner
66. >on the chair sits a dark-blue unicorn stallion, looking very much like he came from a business-suit convention
67. >kinda like Anon's suit, but smaller and more blue
69. >He looks at you with a look that suggests boredom
70. >"Hello, ma'am. You're here for the auditions?" the stallion asks in a bored high-class kind of voice
71. "Of course!"
72. >mister bored-unicorn waves you over to the seat opposite him, and you gladly comply
73. >"Please sit down. I need to thoroughly analyze your vocal capabilities."
74. "Oh. So you just run a spell across me to check my vocal chords?"
75. >Mister Blue (as you now notice his actual name on a nameplate located on his desk) laughs a humorless laugh
76. >"No, miss. That's for medical personnel only. Now, let me get the lyrics for you..."
78. >And so, Actias sat there in the blue stallion's office, squeaking out countless notes of varying pitch, doing her very best
79. >the fifth rendition of "Camptown Races" seemed a bit unnecessary, though
80. >Actias squeaked like never before, straining her vocal chords to match the administrator's beat
81. >Anonymous looked on, impressed at his friend's ability to follow the rhythm to a T, even through the voiced rendition of "In the Hall of the Mountain King"
82. >and soon, the audition was over
83. >Mister Blue packed his equipment away for the day with a dull look on his face, simply stating to Actias that she would get a letter in the morning concerning her performance
84. >and he left without another word
85. >Anonymous took the eager Actias back to her house to await the official letter of confirmation
86. >and it was not a week later when it finally arrived...
88. >You can hear the quiet sobbing from Actias's room
89. >it's been... 'Rough' for her lately
90. >ever since you took her to town hall for auditions, she had been a big ball of excitement and giddiness
91. >and then her letter arrived
92. >the letter had nothing much to say
93. >because the titanic, red [REJECTED] stamp at the top of the page had stated it's purpose clearer than the muddled political paragraphs below the margin
94. >Actias was rejected
95. >"Rejected for squeaking instead of singing properly," as the note read
96. >rejected from what she had thought her true calling
97. >and no matter how much you would try to reconcile her, being the helpful housemate you are, she would just ignore you and stare solemnly at the stamped paper
98. >sometimes, she cries herself to sleep
99. >she hardly leaves her room anymore...
100. >imagine, being told that even though you did the best you could with what you had, and had practiced and trained your skill for years-
101. >that you just weren't good enough
102. >it's a sad slump that Actias has gotten in...
103. >and now, you realize, the blame falls on you
104. >you had taken her in to auditions, even when you had the hypothesis of her being rejected for squeaking
105. >that's why you never let her go
107. >...But it's been a week since then, and Actias is still moping about, albeit in a more depressed and bitter fashion
108. >and you cannot stand to see Actias with this kind of attitude any longer;
109. >alone, your thoughts cannot sway the stubborn mare
110. >but, if her other friends were to attempt to convince her as a group, well...
112. >and so, your plan was set into motion...
114. >It's sunny out
115. >ugh...
116. >...
117. >...why did it have to be so sunny today? Couldn't it just rain all the time? It's more soothing that way
118. >and of course Anonymous would pick today of all days to go to the park
119. >(why were you rejected? Why, why, why? Squeaking is no different than singing...)
120. >Anonymous takes a turn toward a secluded table, and the two of you sit down
121. >...you really wish it was raining right now
122. >and suddenly, four different mothponies jump out of the bushes around you
123. >recovering from your near heart-attack, you sit up and recognize the moths around you;
124. >Meisa, Caramel, Virgo, and Acteus (you're brother showed up?)
125. "Alright, what's going on here?"
126. >your voice is less sad or surprised, and more angry
127. >your brother is the first to answer
128. >"Anon decided you needed to get out more, and what better place than the park that you used to sing so much at?"
130. >Meisa steps up
131. >"Don't you remember the times we had here? You would sing for us, and occasionally dance, I would buy ensembles for you to wear for fun..."
132. >Virgo's turn
133. >"Yes, and we all enjoyed your performances. They might be low-budget-(ow!)"
134. >Meisa tries to look inconspicuous as she removes her back hoof from Virgo's leg
135. >"...But your singing brings it all together in a coherent way."
136. >"Yeah! And everyone loves singing, especially yours!" Caramel exclaims
137. >...
138. >...is it true?
139. >do they still love your singing?
140. >even if you WERE rejected from the town choir for having no singing talent?
141. "...I... Wasn't aware that you still liked my...'Squeaking'."
142. >"Of course we do, sis. And does it really matter?"
143. >what?
144. "Of course it matters! How will I prove that I can actually sing?"
145. >Caramel speaks up again
146. >"Actias, you've already proven your abilities. Multiple times, in fact."
147. >...
150. "But the auditions administrator said th-"
151. >"Who cares what he said? He doesn't even know you like we do."
152. >and then, it dawns on you
153. >your friends have stuck by you since you first began your little excursion into the auditory arts
154. >they know your ups and downs
155. >they know how much you've practiced
156. >and they know your love of singing is only rivaled by your love of light
157. "...I..."
158. >they lean inwards
159. "...You're right. I... I'm sorry. It's just that, I've been trying to get a career in singing for years, and I've done so many vocal exercises, and sung so many songs..."
160. "...And it sort of hurt me. But now, I've realized that it doesn't matter. I've been happy with myself this whole time, and I didn't even know it..."
161. >"That's what we've been try-(ow!)"
162. >"(Virgo! Shh, you'll kill the mood!)"
163. >you ignore Virgo's comment and sigh, a large weight lifted off your chest
165. >"...So. Anybody up for a song?"
166. >Anonymous breaks the short silence
167. >you've practically forgotten he was there
168. >after THAT heart-attack, you agree to a short performance
169. >you squeak your heart out, remembering the peculiar tune of "Camptown Races"...
171. -
173. >After the heartfelt apology and well-done performance, you had headed home
174. >Anon was to stay over at Acteus's house, he said something about dwarves or something, you don't remember
175. >you open your door, and sitting on your desk was that fateful little note;
176. >[REJECTED]
177. >but it doesn't bother y-
178. >hold on, what's this letter written on?
179. >is this- is this linen?
180. >...well, there's no point in just throwing away such a delicacy
182. >That night, you lay with a belly full of defeat
183. >defeat, you learned, tastes pretty good

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>This is a story about a mare named 'Actias.' >now, Actias was a simple mare with simple needs >but there is one thing that she would always ask for; >every day and every night, she would pester Anonymous, the resident human, to take her to the town's choir auditions >for she liked singing >and she liked singing a lot >every week on Wednesday morning, she would sing to Anonymous and her other friends in the park >they all loved her singing voice >but, the thing about Actias is; >she doesn't sing >she squeaks >but even so, her dear friends would cheer and stomp their hooves for her, encouraging her, spurring on her interest in the vocal arts >she pestered Anonymous at a greater rate than she would before, almost pleading with him to bring her to town hall for an audition >and every time, Anonymous said 'no,' but never gave her a reason for his decision, always dodging her accusing questions >Until one day, Anonymous finally said; >"Yes." >Actias could not believe her ears! >she had finally gotten her wish to sing in the town choir! >and now, today, they would go to town hall for the audition >Actias would finally sing in the town choir for all to hear! "Anonymous, I still can't believe you finally gave me a 'yes'!" >You are in the town square, looking about at the market surrounding you as you stroll towards the towering building ahead of you >there's all sorts of things on sale; pears, apples, applesauce, and even nectar! >town life is certainly luxurious, what with all the expensive foods around here >"I can't believe it either." >you 'humph' in mock-annoyance, but you're still giddy from the thought >the sky is clear, the birds are singing (much like you will be), and the air is nice and cool... >it's such a perfect day~! >town hall is certainly smaller than you remember, though >you contemplate the decision to get Anon to buy you some nectar, but decide against it >that's probably pushing a bit too far >Reaching the monolithic construction, you push open the large metal doors >or, try to, at least >they're a bit heavy >not wanting to wait around, you make Anonymous open them for you >he grumbles something under his breath, but pushes the door through the portcullis anyway. "Thanks, Anon." >he grumbles more, probably "you're welcome," but you're too entranced by the room's lighting to notice >the light reflects off the floor and walls, throwing it around the place >it's... >beautiful >it's as if you had stepped into a supernova! >oh, that's perfect... "Aaaaaoooooohhh..." >something that feels vaguely viscous slips out of your mouth >"Allllrighty, then. Actias, come on, we've got business to attend to." >the offending voice's arms grasp you into a tight hold as the lights... >...Oh. They're gone now. >...What just happened? >"This is why I got you those shades to wear." "It's not my fault that I happen to like lights!" >"Well, you can't just go drooling all over the floors in public, now can you?" "Hmmph!" >whatever >the matter is dropped, and you are set on the floor gently >you notice that you're in a corridor, right in front of another pair of doors >there's a door on the left >and there's a door on the right >you step through the one on the right, the one with a sticky note that reads 'Auditions' on it >they clearly didn't think it'd take this long for the singer's positions to fill up >it's a small room, with a corner desk and chair fitted snugly against the walls of the corner >on the chair sits a dark-blue unicorn stallion, looking very much like he came from a business-suit convention >kinda like Anon's suit, but smaller and more blue >He looks at you with a look that suggests boredom >"Hello, ma'am. You're here for the auditions?" the stallion asks in a bored high-class kind of voice "Of course!" >mister bored-unicorn waves you over to the seat opposite him, and you gladly comply >"Please sit down. I need to thoroughly analyze your vocal capabilities." "Oh. So you just run a spell across me to check my vocal chords?" >Mister Blue (as you now notice his actual name on a nameplate located on his desk) laughs a humorless laugh >"No, miss. That's for medical personnel only. Now, let me get the lyrics for you..." >And so, Actias sat there in the blue stallion's office, squeaking out countless notes of varying pitch, doing her very best >the fifth rendition of "Camptown Races" seemed a bit unnecessary, though >Actias squeaked like never before, straining her vocal chords to match the administrator's beat >Anonymous looked on, impressed at his friend's ability to follow the rhythm to a T, even through the voiced rendition of "In the Hall of the Mountain King" >and soon, the audition was over >Mister Blue packed his equipment away for the day with a dull look on his face, simply stating to Actias that she would get a letter in the morning concerning her performance >and he left without another word >Anonymous took the eager Actias back to her house to await the official letter of confirmation >and it was not a week later when it finally arrived... >You can hear the quiet sobbing from Actias's room >it's been... 'Rough' for her lately >ever since you took her to town hall for auditions, she had been a big ball of excitement and giddiness >and then her letter arrived >the letter had nothing much to say >because the titanic, red [REJECTED] stamp at the top of the page had stated it's purpose clearer than the muddled political paragraphs below the margin >Actias was rejected >"Rejected for squeaking instead of singing properly," as the note read >rejected from what she had thought her true calling >and no matter how much you would try to reconcile her, being the helpful housemate you are, she would just ignore you and stare solemnly at the stamped paper >sometimes, she cries herself to sleep >she hardly leaves her room anymore... >imagine, being told that even though you did the best you could with what you had, and had practiced and trained your skill for years- >that you just weren't good enough >it's a sad slump that Actias has gotten in... >and now, you realize, the blame falls on you >you had taken her in to auditions, even when you had the hypothesis of her being rejected for squeaking >that's why you never let her go >...But it's been a week since then, and Actias is still moping about, albeit in a more depressed and bitter fashion >and you cannot stand to see Actias with this kind of attitude any longer; >alone, your thoughts cannot sway the stubborn mare >but, if her other friends were to attempt to convince her as a group, well... >and so, your plan was set into motion... >It's sunny out >ugh... >... >...why did it have to be so sunny today? Couldn't it just rain all the time? It's more soothing that way >and of course Anonymous would pick today of all days to go to the park >(why were you rejected? Why, why, why? Squeaking is no different than singing...) >Anonymous takes a turn toward a secluded table, and the two of you sit down >...you really wish it was raining right now >and suddenly, four different mothponies jump out of the bushes around you >recovering from your near heart-attack, you sit up and recognize the moths around you; >Meisa, Caramel, Virgo, and Acteus (you're brother showed up?) "Alright, what's going on here?" >your voice is less sad or surprised, and more angry >your brother is the first to answer >"Anon decided you needed to get out more, and what better place than the park that you used to sing so much at?" >Meisa steps up >"Don't you remember the times we had here? You would sing for us, and occasionally dance, I would buy ensembles for you to wear for fun..." >Virgo's turn >"Yes, and we all enjoyed your performances. They might be low-budget-(ow!)" >Meisa tries to look inconspicuous as she removes her back hoof from Virgo's leg >"...But your singing brings it all together in a coherent way." >"Yeah! And everyone loves singing, especially yours!" Caramel exclaims >... >...is it true? >do they still love your singing? >even if you WERE rejected from the town choir for having no singing talent? "...I... Wasn't aware that you still liked my...'Squeaking'." >"Of course we do, sis. And does it really matter?" >what? "Of course it matters! How will I prove that I can actually sing?" >Caramel speaks up again >"Actias, you've already proven your abilities. Multiple times, in fact." >... "But the auditions administrator said th-" >"Who cares what he said? He doesn't even know you like we do." >and then, it dawns on you >your friends have stuck by you since you first began your little excursion into the auditory arts >they know your ups and downs >they know how much you've practiced >and they know your love of singing is only rivaled by your love of light "...I..." >they lean inwards "...You're right. I... I'm sorry. It's just that, I've been trying to get a career in singing for years, and I've done so many vocal exercises, and sung so many songs..." "...And it sort of hurt me. But now, I've realized that it doesn't matter. I've been happy with myself this whole time, and I didn't even know it..." >"That's what we've been try-(ow!)" >"(Virgo! Shh, you'll kill the mood!)" >you ignore Virgo's comment and sigh, a large weight lifted off your chest >"...So. Anybody up for a song?" >Anonymous breaks the short silence >you've practically forgotten he was there >after THAT heart-attack, you agree to a short performance >you squeak your heart out, remembering the peculiar tune of "Camptown Races"... - >After the heartfelt apology and well-done performance, you had headed home >Anon was to stay over at Acteus's house, he said something about dwarves or something, you don't remember >you open your door, and sitting on your desk was that fateful little note; >[REJECTED] >but it doesn't bother y- >hold on, what's this letter written on? >is this- is this linen? >...well, there's no point in just throwing away such a delicacy >That night, you lay with a belly full of defeat >defeat, you learned, tastes pretty good