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# Shun-Torchlight

By: mothpone on Dec 12th, 2013 | syntax: None | size: 12.33 KB | hits: 25 | expires: Never
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1. >You are Anon
2. >You've been living in Ponyville for a few months now
3. >It really didn't seem that long ago that you'd stopped at that petrol station for a can of Monster and a Lotto scratch card
4. >They had LED torches on offer
5. >"Four Ninenty-Nine" You'd said to yourself "It'd be a crime not to."
6. >You'd paid with what cash you had in your pocket and let them keep the penny change
7. >That was your last memory of home
8. >Next thing you remember is an orange pony in a stetson shaking you awake
9. >She seemed more annoyed than confused, and weirdly, so had you
10. >From the conversation you had, you found out you weren't the first human to just appear in Equestria
11. >Nor the second
12. >Or third
13. >In fact the population of Ponyville had gotten used to humans just appearing and integrating themselves into society
14. >You were nothing special at home, and nothing special here
15. >Your "Fancy lantern dohickey" however...
16. >The fucking torch
17. >But this was months ago
18. >Now you'd managed to integrate yourself into society somewhat, like the other humans
19. >You were yet to actually see another human
20. >Apparently they'd all moved elsewhere, one by one
21. >This really didn't bother you though
22. >You were content to just get on with your own life
23. >And right now, that involved answering your front door
24. >It was Orangehat
25. >I mean Applejack
26. >Probably after your services again
27. >You open the door
28. "A'ight AJ, what can I do for you this evening?"
29. >She puts a hoof behind her head and grins awkwardly
30. >"Oh howdy, Anon. I was wonderin' if you'd mind maybe helpin' me look fer some baskets the mah sister's gone and left out on the farm. Ah mean, it is winter, and it gets awful dark real quick..."
31. >You roll your eyes
32. "Yeah sure, lemme just grab my torch."
33. >That fucking LED torch
34. >Ponies were paying you to go and find their shit in the dark
35. >That was your job
36. >That was how you'd integrated yourself into society
37. >You grab your torch and a coat, before following Applejack to her farm
38. >You're directed to an old barn
39. >Faded paint, missing boards, cobwebs, hole in the roof. The works.
40. >"They're in their somewhere. Bring 'em by the house when you've got 'em."
41. >Applejack heads back to her warm little farmhouse to be all cozy, leaving you to search the barn
42. >It was fucking cold
43. >You push the door
44. >It creaks and some rust flakes off onto yourself
45. >The moonlight shines in perfectly through the hole in the roof
46. >It casts some disturbing looking shadows
47. >If you weren't in a land of technicolor ponies, this'd be B-movie horror stuff right here.
48. >You shine the torch around
49. >The baskets are pretty obvious
50. >They're just sat at the bottom of a pile of bad apples
51. >How had Applejack not seen these
52. >Maybe she didn't actually have eyes
53. >That was a fucking stupid thought, Anon
54. >You're fucking stupid
55. >You finish mentally abusing yourself and go to retrieve the baskets
56. >You go to close the door behind you as you leave, but the wood just breaks off in your hand
57. >Fuck it, it can stay open
58. >You begin to head back to the house
59. >That is, until you find yourself getting tackled to the ground and rolling across a muddy field
60. >You are now cold and muddy
61. >And lying on your back
62. >Stood over you is your attacker
63. >It's a mare
64. >She doesn't seem pleased
65. >You keep looking up at her
66. >She frowns at you with her polygonal, hazel retinae
67. >You impress yourself with you mental vocabulary as you continue your examination.
68. >Silky white fur, thicker and fluffier around the chest and neck
69. >A wavy mane, dark brown in colour, slightly over one eye, and flowing over the shoulders, with two upward protrusions.
70. >No, it was black
71. >Or really dark brown
72. >Or black and the light was hitting it oddly
73. >"What were you doing in my house?!"
74. >You completely miss what she says, still internally debating the colour of her mane.
75. >And then it hits you.
76. "Bournville!"
77. >You sit up as you name that famous dark chocolate
78. >And her foreleg meets your chest, pushing you back down
79. >"Err, no. Sharpie."
80. >You look up at her again
81. >She's glaring at you, wings outstretched
82. >Big butterfly like wings, marked up with that "Bournville" coloured patterning.
83. >Why was everything about her so... Distracting?
84. >Mesmerising was the word you were looking for, but you were too mesmerised to think of it
85. >"I asked you a question. Why were you in my house?"
86. "I uh.. I..."
87. >You were still looking at those wings
88. >And her fluffy chest
89. >You reach a hand up to touch it
90. >She squeaks angrily at you and hits your hand away before you can ruffle her fur
91. >She brings her face down inches away from your own
92. >"WHY WERE YOU IN MY HOUSE"
93. "I- I was just looking for some baskets."
94. >You click the torch on and shine it at the baskets you dropped
95. >"So bright..."
96. >So you were mesmerised by her, and she was mesmerised by your torch
97. >The fucking LED torch
98. >You were beginning to hate that thing
99. >You click it back off again
100. >"Gimme!"
101. >She makes a grab for it, but you hold it out of her reach
102. >"Hey! C'monnnn!"
103. >She keeps reaching for it, but she can't while she's holding you down
104. >Eventually, she collapses in what seems like defeat and lies down on top of you
105. >She's warm and soft
106. >This was a nice, if slightly surreal feeling
107. >She lies still for a while, before lifting her head and smiling at you.
108. >You still hold the torch out of reach
109. >"I'm Sharpie! You?"
110. >Now she was taking interest in you?
111. >You knew exactly what she was trying to do, you weren't that stupid
112. "Anon"
113. >Your reply is blunt, unimpressed
114. >She nuzzles you
115. >"Hi Anon~"
116. >You let out an annoyed sigh and put an arm around her
117. >She squeaks and wriggles, trying to get comfortable again
118. >"Y'know Anon, I really like you."
119. >That was it. That was enough. You weren't going to let this mare abuse your feels.
120. >Your feels were reserved for realisations of your life, and the endings of 90's Disney movies.
121. >This was neither.
122. >You roll to put yourself on top of Sharpie
123. >That caught her off guard, and she looks at you, slightly startled.
124. "Look Sharpie, you're cute, but I know you're only after my light."
125. >You stand up and retrieve the baskets scattered across the floor
126. >Sharpie is still lying on her back
127. >She squeaks at you, irritated before rolling over and getting up herself
128. >"Why won't you gimme the light?"
129. >You ignore her and begin to head back to Applejacks' house
130. >She starts following you
131. >"Anonnnn..."
132. >You drop the baskets on the doorstep and turn to face Sharpie
133. "I'm going home. I suggest you stop following and leave me alone."
134. >"No! Not until you give me the light!"
135. >She jumps at you, so you turn and start running
136. >You really didn't like running, but needs must
137. >She's chasing after you on hoof, shouting
138. >"Anon, get back here! Gimme the light!"
139. >You didn't think you stood a chance, but she was no quicker than you
140. >"You don't even need it! Give it to me!"
141. >She might have been cute, but she was loud and whiney too
142. >"Anonnnn! C'monnnnn!"
143. >Your house is dead ahead
144. >You sprint for the door and burst into your home
145. >It slams shut behind you
146. >You bolt and lock it before wiping the sweat from your brow and exhaling heavily in a cliche manner
147. >You flick the lights on and toss the torch into a drawer in the kitchen
148. >There was a tap on the glass in your door
149. >And another
150. >And two more
151. >"Anon! You've got loads of lights! Just gimme the little one!"
152. >You ignore her and start making a sandwich
153. >Pickled beetroot
154. >It was all you had in your fridge, you'd finished the cheese of this morning
155. >Who cares, beetroot sandwiches are fucking awesome
156. >At least you thought so
157. >"It's just one light!"
158. >You tuck in to your prestigious delicacy
159. >Sharpie continues to tap on your glass
160. >Her taps seem to get increasingly frantic
161. >"Anon let me in!"
162. >Her tone has changed and she's squeaking loudly
163. >"Anon! It's raining! Anon! Let me in! Letmein letmein letmein!"
164. >You knew the sound of desperation in a voice
165. >You knew the sound of panic
166. >This was neither
167. >This was the sound of pure fear
168. >Fear thick as liquid
169. >You could drown in it
170. >The remaining half of the sandwich goes back down on the plate
171. >You hated that torch, but you hated your conscience more
172. >You open the door, before you find yourself on the floor underneath a warm, fluffy mass
173. >She has her forelegs around you, and her face buried into your chest
174. >You can feel her breathing heavily
175. >She's shaking
176. >You stroke her mane, trying to calm her down
177. >Your hand brushes against the feathery bits sticking out at the top and she squeaks, flaring her wings out with a shower of glittery dust.
178. >She was so different to every other pony you'd met, and she captivated you
179. >You keep stroking her from the ear down as her breathing slows
180. >She lifts her head and looks at you
181. >Smiling
182. >She nuzzles you and whispers in your ear
183. >"Thank you..."
184. >You don't reply, and slowly sit up with her on your lap
185. >She just sits there, smiling at you
186. >"Anon, I'm kinda hungry..."
187. >This reminds you of your beetroot sandwich
188. >You lift her off you and stand up
189. "Yeah, I'll get you somethin'. Just let me shut the door. Don't want moths getting in."
190. >You swing the door shut
191. >"Why can't moths come in?"
192. "Because they're a fucking pain. They fly around the lights and it's fucking annoying. They're fucking stupid."
193. >Sharpie's hoof meets your face
194. >Hard
195. >She just slapped you
196. >She looks livid
197. >You rub your cheek
198. >And it finally clicks. Not your cheek; the puzzle in your head.
199. >Sharpie was a moth
200. >She was a pony too, but she was a moth
201. >You're not sure how you didn't realise earlier, it was blindingly obvious now you thought of it.
202. >This had put you in a hole
203. "Shit, I- I didn't mean that like that... I didn't know you were... Fuck. I'm fucking stupid."
204. >"Just shut up and get me something to eat, Anon."
205. >She was still scowling at you as you went back to the kitchen
206. >As you begin to make another sandwich, Sharpie pokes at your half eaten one before taking a bite
207. >"I don't like it."
208. >That was your sandwich
209. "Well that's all I've got."
210. >"Trust you to have no moth-friendly food."
211. >Coupled with her tone, that hurt.
212. >You didn't like to think you were anything more than casually racist.
213. >What did moths eat anyway?
214. "Look, I'm sorry. Okay? I didn't realise that you were a moth. I didn't even know that ponies could be moths. I didn't mean what I said."
215. >Her scowl fades away
216. >"I'll forgive you... When you've got me something to eat."
217. >She's seemingly singing her sentences now
218. >She certainly knew how to play with your feels
219. >You sigh, partially in relief
220. >"Right, come and find something then."
221. >She happily trots over to you and starts rummaging through the few things in your fridge
222. >She pulls out your can of Monster.
223. >You'd been saving that
224. >"Anon, what's this?"
225. >You take it and hold it in front of her
226. "Energy drink"
227. >"Is it sweet?"
228. >You nod
229. >"Can I have it?"
230. >You look at it
231. >It was your last ever can
232. >It was being saved for a special occasion
233. >You look down at the moth pony looking up at you expectantly
234. >She was special
235. "Sure, take it."
236. >You give than can back to her and watch
237. >She grins with glee and sits at the table
238. >She pokes than can a few times
239. >She turns it upside down
240. >She rolls it around the table
241. >You smirk
242. >"How do I get it out?"
243. >You take a glass from the sink and take it over to her
244. "Watch"
245. >You take the can, and slowly open and pour it as Sharpie watches you intently
246. >The brownish yellow liquid fills the glass, with about half the can left
247. >Excellent
248. >You slide the glass to your excited equine associate and finish the can off yourself, tilting your head back to empty the can entirely
249. >With the can empty, you exhale, content, and look back to Sharpie
250. >She's drinking
251. >At least that what you think she's doing
252. >You find it cute and disturbing at the same time
253. >Your face just shows a disturbed expression
254. >"Wha?"
255. >She asks, as if you were supposed to have seen this before, her tongue still extended into the glass
256. >Don't offend her again
257. "Nothing... Just wasn't expecting you to drink like that."
258. >"Ih a prohlem?"
259. "No, I think it's cute."
260. >She giggles, which bubbles her drink like blowing down a bendy straw
261. >You sit down opposite her to finish off your sandwich
262. >"I don' geh how you can eah than"
263. "I like beetroot"
264. >"Buh ihs purpuh."
265. "What's wrong with purple?"
266. >She shrugs and finishes off her drink
267. >A question pops into your head
268. "Sharpie..."
269. >She tilts her head
270. >"Mmhmm?"
271. "What colour is your mane?"
272. >She down at her mane resting on her shoulder and thinks for a second
273. >"I don't know Anon..."

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>You are Anon >You've been living in Ponyville for a few months now >It really didn't seem that long ago that you'd stopped at that petrol station for a can of Monster and a Lotto scratch card >They had LED torches on offer >"Four Ninenty-Nine" You'd said to yourself "It'd be a crime not to." >You'd paid with what cash you had in your pocket and let them keep the penny change >That was your last memory of home >Next thing you remember is an orange pony in a stetson shaking you awake >She seemed more annoyed than confused, and weirdly, so had you >From the conversation you had, you found out you weren't the first human to just appear in Equestria >Nor the second >Or third >In fact the population of Ponyville had gotten used to humans just appearing and integrating themselves into society >You were nothing special at home, and nothing special here >Your "Fancy lantern dohickey" however... >The fucking torch >But this was months ago >Now you'd managed to integrate yourself into society somewhat, like the other humans >You were yet to actually see another human >Apparently they'd all moved elsewhere, one by one >This really didn't bother you though >You were content to just get on with your own life >And right now, that involved answering your front door >It was Orangehat >I mean Applejack >Probably after your services again >You open the door "A'ight AJ, what can I do for you this evening?" >She puts a hoof behind her head and grins awkwardly >"Oh howdy, Anon. I was wonderin' if you'd mind maybe helpin' me look fer some baskets the mah sister's gone and left out on the farm. Ah mean, it is winter, and it gets awful dark real quick..." >You roll your eyes "Yeah sure, lemme just grab my torch." >That fucking LED torch >Ponies were paying you to go and find their shit in the dark >That was your job >That was how you'd integrated yourself into society >You grab your torch and a coat, before following Applejack to her farm >You're directed to an old barn >Faded paint, missing boards, cobwebs, hole in the roof. The works. >"They're in their somewhere. Bring 'em by the house when you've got 'em." >Applejack heads back to her warm little farmhouse to be all cozy, leaving you to search the barn >It was fucking cold >You push the door >It creaks and some rust flakes off onto yourself >The moonlight shines in perfectly through the hole in the roof >It casts some disturbing looking shadows >If you weren't in a land of technicolor ponies, this'd be B-movie horror stuff right here. >You shine the torch around >The baskets are pretty obvious >They're just sat at the bottom of a pile of bad apples >How had Applejack not seen these >Maybe she didn't actually have eyes >That was a fucking stupid thought, Anon >You're fucking stupid >You finish mentally abusing yourself and go to retrieve the baskets >You go to close the door behind you as you leave, but the wood just breaks off in your hand >Fuck it, it can stay open >You begin to head back to the house >That is, until you find yourself getting tackled to the ground and rolling across a muddy field >You are now cold and muddy >And lying on your back >Stood over you is your attacker >It's a mare >She doesn't seem pleased >You keep looking up at her >She frowns at you with her polygonal, hazel retinae >You impress yourself with you mental vocabulary as you continue your examination. >Silky white fur, thicker and fluffier around the chest and neck >A wavy mane, dark brown in colour, slightly over one eye, and flowing over the shoulders, with two upward protrusions. >No, it was black >Or really dark brown >Or black and the light was hitting it oddly >"What were you doing in my house?!" >You completely miss what she says, still internally debating the colour of her mane. >And then it hits you. "Bournville!" >You sit up as you name that famous dark chocolate >And her foreleg meets your chest, pushing you back down >"Err, no. Sharpie." >You look up at her again >She's glaring at you, wings outstretched >Big butterfly like wings, marked up with that "Bournville" coloured patterning. >Why was everything about her so... Distracting? >Mesmerising was the word you were looking for, but you were too mesmerised to think of it >"I asked you a question. Why were you in my house?" "I uh.. I..." >You were still looking at those wings >And her fluffy chest >You reach a hand up to touch it >She squeaks angrily at you and hits your hand away before you can ruffle her fur >She brings her face down inches away from your own >"WHY WERE YOU IN MY HOUSE" "I- I was just looking for some baskets." >You click the torch on and shine it at the baskets you dropped >"So bright..." >So you were mesmerised by her, and she was mesmerised by your torch >The fucking LED torch >You were beginning to hate that thing >You click it back off again >"Gimme!" >She makes a grab for it, but you hold it out of her reach >"Hey! C'monnnn!" >She keeps reaching for it, but she can't while she's holding you down >Eventually, she collapses in what seems like defeat and lies down on top of you >She's warm and soft >This was a nice, if slightly surreal feeling >She lies still for a while, before lifting her head and smiling at you. >You still hold the torch out of reach >"I'm Sharpie! You?" >Now she was taking interest in you? >You knew exactly what she was trying to do, you weren't that stupid "Anon" >Your reply is blunt, unimpressed >She nuzzles you >"Hi Anon~" >You let out an annoyed sigh and put an arm around her >She squeaks and wriggles, trying to get comfortable again >"Y'know Anon, I really like you." >That was it. That was enough. You weren't going to let this mare abuse your feels. >Your feels were reserved for realisations of your life, and the endings of 90's Disney movies. >This was neither. >You roll to put yourself on top of Sharpie >That caught her off guard, and she looks at you, slightly startled. "Look Sharpie, you're cute, but I know you're only after my light." >You stand up and retrieve the baskets scattered across the floor >Sharpie is still lying on her back >She squeaks at you, irritated before rolling over and getting up herself >"Why won't you gimme the light?" >You ignore her and begin to head back to Applejacks' house >She starts following you >"Anonnnn..." >You drop the baskets on the doorstep and turn to face Sharpie "I'm going home. I suggest you stop following and leave me alone." >"No! Not until you give me the light!" >She jumps at you, so you turn and start running >You really didn't like running, but needs must >She's chasing after you on hoof, shouting >"Anon, get back here! Gimme the light!" >You didn't think you stood a chance, but she was no quicker than you >"You don't even need it! Give it to me!" >She might have been cute, but she was loud and whiney too >"Anonnnn! C'monnnnn!" >Your house is dead ahead >You sprint for the door and burst into your home >It slams shut behind you >You bolt and lock it before wiping the sweat from your brow and exhaling heavily in a cliche manner >You flick the lights on and toss the torch into a drawer in the kitchen >There was a tap on the glass in your door >And another >And two more >"Anon! You've got loads of lights! Just gimme the little one!" >You ignore her and start making a sandwich >Pickled beetroot >It was all you had in your fridge, you'd finished the cheese of this morning >Who cares, beetroot sandwiches are fucking awesome >At least you thought so >"It's just one light!" >You tuck in to your prestigious delicacy >Sharpie continues to tap on your glass >Her taps seem to get increasingly frantic >"Anon let me in!" >Her tone has changed and she's squeaking loudly >"Anon! It's raining! Anon! Let me in! Letmein letmein letmein!" >You knew the sound of desperation in a voice >You knew the sound of panic >This was neither >This was the sound of pure fear >Fear thick as liquid >You could drown in it >The remaining half of the sandwich goes back down on the plate >You hated that torch, but you hated your conscience more >You open the door, before you find yourself on the floor underneath a warm, fluffy mass >She has her forelegs around you, and her face buried into your chest >You can feel her breathing heavily >She's shaking >You stroke her mane, trying to calm her down >Your hand brushes against the feathery bits sticking out at the top and she squeaks, flaring her wings out with a shower of glittery dust. >She was so different to every other pony you'd met, and she captivated you >You keep stroking her from the ear down as her breathing slows >She lifts her head and looks at you >Smiling >She nuzzles you and whispers in your ear >"Thank you..." >You don't reply, and slowly sit up with her on your lap >She just sits there, smiling at you >"Anon, I'm kinda hungry..." >This reminds you of your beetroot sandwich >You lift her off you and stand up "Yeah, I'll get you somethin'. Just let me shut the door. Don't want moths getting in." >You swing the door shut >"Why can't moths come in?" "Because they're a fucking pain. They fly around the lights and it's fucking annoying. They're fucking stupid." >Sharpie's hoof meets your face >Hard >She just slapped you >She looks livid >You rub your cheek >And it finally clicks. Not your cheek; the puzzle in your head. >Sharpie was a moth >She was a pony too, but she was a moth >You're not sure how you didn't realise earlier, it was blindingly obvious now you thought of it. >This had put you in a hole "Shit, I- I didn't mean that like that... I didn't know you were... Fuck. I'm fucking stupid." >"Just shut up and get me something to eat, Anon." >She was still scowling at you as you went back to the kitchen >As you begin to make another sandwich, Sharpie pokes at your half eaten one before taking a bite >"I don't like it." >That was your sandwich "Well that's all I've got." >"Trust you to have no moth-friendly food." >Coupled with her tone, that hurt. >You didn't like to think you were anything more than casually racist. >What did moths eat anyway? "Look, I'm sorry. Okay? I didn't realise that you were a moth. I didn't even know that ponies could be moths. I didn't mean what I said." >Her scowl fades away >"I'll forgive you... When you've got me something to eat." >She's seemingly singing her sentences now >She certainly knew how to play with your feels >You sigh, partially in relief >"Right, come and find something then." >She happily trots over to you and starts rummaging through the few things in your fridge >She pulls out your can of Monster. >You'd been saving that >"Anon, what's this?" >You take it and hold it in front of her "Energy drink" >"Is it sweet?" >You nod >"Can I have it?" >You look at it >It was your last ever can >It was being saved for a special occasion >You look down at the moth pony looking up at you expectantly >She was special "Sure, take it." >You give than can back to her and watch >She grins with glee and sits at the table >She pokes than can a few times >She turns it upside down >She rolls it around the table >You smirk >"How do I get it out?" >You take a glass from the sink and take it over to her "Watch" >You take the can, and slowly open and pour it as Sharpie watches you intently >The brownish yellow liquid fills the glass, with about half the can left >Excellent >You slide the glass to your excited equine associate and finish the can off yourself, tilting your head back to empty the can entirely >With the can empty, you exhale, content, and look back to Sharpie >She's drinking >At least that what you think she's doing >You find it cute and disturbing at the same time >Your face just shows a disturbed expression >"Wha?" >She asks, as if you were supposed to have seen this before, her tongue still extended into the glass >Don't offend her again "Nothing... Just wasn't expecting you to drink like that." >"Ih a prohlem?" "No, I think it's cute." >She giggles, which bubbles her drink like blowing down a bendy straw >You sit down opposite her to finish off your sandwich >"I don' geh how you can eah than" "I like beetroot" >"Buh ihs purpuh." "What's wrong with purple?" >She shrugs and finishes off her drink >A question pops into your head "Sharpie..." >She tilts her head >"Mmhmm?" "What colour is your mane?" >She down at her mane resting on her shoulder and thinks for a second >"I don't know Anon..."