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# Nuke-Actias

By: mothpone on Dec 5th, 2013 | syntax: None | size: 8.82 KB | hits: 65 | expires: Never
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1. >Tink.
2. >Tink tink.
3. >Tinktinktinktinktinktink.
4. >The sound of a hard, velvety structure tapping against a thin glass pane echoes through a small, brightly lit room.
5. "What do you want?"
6. >"Let me in, I want to get a closer look at your lights!"
7. >Tink tink tink.
8. "Aren't there other lights for you to see? You know, street lights, porch lights, flood-lights?"
9. >"I've already seen all of those in this town."
10. "Go to another town."
11. >"No!"
12. >A very heavy sigh finds its way out of your mouth.
13. "If I let you in, will you go away as soon as you're done?"
14. >The odd terror gives a soft nod as she bumps her head into your window.
15. >Tink.
16. >She darts into the room almost as soon as the window slides up.
17. >Her hooves and antennae start tapping against your desk lamp as this curious pony invades your home.
18. >"What kind of light is this?"
19. >You shrug and give her an aggravated look.
20. >"I like it. Can I keep it?"
21. "Will it make you go away faster?"
22. >"Yes!"
23. "Then take it."
24. >She starts to giggle as she carefully unscrews the lightbulb from your lamp.
25. >Even as it loses its glow, the mothpony continues tapping on the bulb's glass.
26. "Has anyone ever told you how obnoxious you are?"
27. >A bright smile forms across her lips as she nods enthusiastically.
28. >"I always learned to take it as a compliment! After all, why let someone keep you down when you're enjoying the little things in life?"
29. >That is oddly... profound.
30. >Maybe these mothponies aren't only about tapping on glass, admiring lights, and eating cloth.
31. >Yet, as you contemplate the intelligence of her statement, you hear the soft ripping of fabric behind you.
32. >"These are gross!"
33. >She's eating your sheets and blankets.
34. >Or, less eating, more ripping them apart, chewing on the strands of fabric, and then spitting them out on the floor in disgust.
35. >"Do you have anything fresher? Maybe a freshly cleaned silk sheet?"
36. "No."
37. >Rip.
38. >Chew.
39. >Spit.
40. "Please stop that. I sleep on those, and need them for warmth."
41. >"Oh, sorry."
42. >She hops off of your bed and starts scooping the discarded strands of fabric up.
43. >In a desperate attempt to appease your well-masked anger, she starts wringing the spit from the discarded fabric and lays them upon your bed.
44. >"I-I'm sorry. I'll be leaving now."
45. >With the lightbulb shoved into her mouth, she leaps out of your window.
46. >Once more, you sigh.
47. >She'll be back tomorrow night.
48. >And the night after that.
49. >With this same scenario playing out.
50. >It's like Hell, except the demon that tortures you is an adorable mothpony.
51. >But you've gotten used to it, even after the few days that it's occurred.
52. >Maybe she'll stay a little longer tomorrow night.
55. >"Get down from there."
56. "But you'll grab me and throw me out!"
57. >"And for good reason."
58. >He's being mean again.
59. >He tries so hard to hide his resentment for you.
60. >It isn't your fault he coaxed you into his living room.
61. >It isn't your fault he has a lot of really nice lights.
62. >Ok, so he only has two or three incredibly droll looking lamps with plain, dusty lampshades on them.
63. >But still, they're lights.
64. >Well, they used to be.
65. >You kind of shattered them in your excitement.
66. >"I'm not going to tell you again. Get down."
67. >He's pointing that portable light at you.
68. "But I'm sorry!"
69. >"I don't care."
70. >You really are sorry.
71. >He has the best lights in town.
72. >Lights on windows that show moving pictures.
73. >Lights on little screens that also make sounds and music.
74. >Lights that glow different colors and flash in patterns and sequences.
75. >His house is so magical!
76. >"Look, you can either get down off of my ceiling right now, or I can get a broom and start hitting you with it."
77. >You look up, or down depending on who's looking where.
78. "I just wanted to be friends with you."
79. >"I don't need friends. And besides, what do I have to offer you by way of friendship? And don't say lights or cloth."
80. >You scrunch your face up in thought, that bright portable light shining on your face.
81. >"That's what I thought. Please leave."
82. >Defeated, you drop from the ceiling and stand in front of your host.
83. >As you slowly walk past him, toward the door, you sigh.
84. "I'm sorry."
85. >He opens it for you, but just as you take off, you hear his voice.
86. >"It's okay."
87. >No animosity, no anger.
88. >Just a hint of sincerity and loneliness.
89. >The door closes, leaving you in the dark of the night.
90. >Alone, with no company but the stars and the moon, and the occasional hoot of an owl.
91. >You flutter back down to stand on his porch, a small whisper escaping your lips.
92. "Please, open the door and let me stay the night."
93. >But as hopeful as you are, the knob does not twist.
94. >The door does not open.
95. >And that strange, hairless creature does not welcome you back into his warm home.
97. >It really was okay.
98. >You didn't even like those lamps.
99. >She did, you didn't.
100. >The first day you met her, she tapped on that window for hours.
101. >You didn't let her in.
102. >The second day, you just closed the curtains and ignored her.
103. >The third day, she spoke.
104. >Her soft voice felt like velvet being rubbed in your ears.
105. >Even then, you ignored her.
106. >Last night, you let her into your home through your bedroom window.
107. >Tonight you let her into more of the house.
108. >A person can change, given enough incentive.
109. >That mothpony might have found her way into more than just your home.
110. "Open the door, Anon. She didn't leave, she's out there waiting."
111. >The door acts as a brace for your head as you lean upon it.
112. >Looking back into your living room, the now dark interior seems cold and uninviting.
113. >A stark contrast to when that little mothpony was in here just a few seconds ago.
114. >She adds a little bit of excitement to your life, and it's only been five days.
115. "Just open the door."
116. >Your hand fondles the doorknob, its cold metal warming to your touch.
117. >It twists with little resistance.
118. >The door swings open, revealing the night, as you step back.
119. "Gone."
120. >You don't even know her name.
121. "She'll be back tomorrow. Just like every night."
122. >The door closes once more as you return to your lonely life in your dark house.
124. >Tink.
125. >She's late.
126. >Tink tink.
127. >But she's back.
128. >Tinktinktinktinktinktink.
129. >You rush to the window and open it just before she can tap her head against it again.
130. >"O-oh! Hello!"
131. "Hey."
132. >"Why are you smiling?"
133. "No reason. Come in."
134. >She hesitates before fluttering inside.
135. >"You're kind of scaring me."
136. "Why?"
137. >"Well... You've been kind of mean."
138. >She stays close to the window, obviously wary that you might try something.
139. >You look away from her, shaking your head softly.
140. "I'm sorry."
141. >"What?"
142. "I'm sorry, for how I've treated you. All you wanted was to see the lights, and I did more damage by trying to keep you away."
143. >Her antennae droop a little bit, her eyes locking onto you.
144. >"What are you saying?"
145. >A hand rubs over your face as you let out an exasperated groan.
146. "Do you want to go see the lights?"
147. >She shifts uncomfortably from hoof to hoof, unsure of what your intentions are.
148. >After a few moments of silent contemplation, she perks up and nods.
149. >"Yes!"
150. "Well then, let's go."
151. >She closes the window before following you out of your bedroom.
152. >The lights in the hall turn on with a flick of the switch.
153. >They grab the little mothpony's attention.
154. >"I like these."
155. "There are more lights in the room on the left."
156. >"Can I look at these some more?"
157. "You'll have plenty of time to look at those later."
158. >"Later?"
159. >Without answering her, you walk into the room on the left.
160. >She bumps into the wall as she follows, her eyes still locked to the hallway lights.
161. "What's up with you and lights anyway?"
162. >A shrug is offered.
163. >"As far as I know, all mothponies are attracted to lights."
164. "Weird."
165. >"Can I see the new lights now?"
166. "Of course."
167. >With a flick of yet another switch, the entire room lights up.
168. >Lights of all colors, bulbs of all shapes, and flashing LEDs with an assortment of patterns litter the walls and floor.
169. >Definitely an epileptic's nightmare.
170. >"Wow!"
171. "Do you like it?"
172. >"I love it!"
173. >Her soft wings flare out in excitement as she starts cantering all around the room, from the floor to the ceiling, tapping on all of the lights.
174. >"Have you always had all of these?"
175. "Some are from the holidays, others I went out and bought."
176. >"Bought? Why?"
177. "For you."
178. >She stares at you from the ceiling, a quizzical look distorting her normally cheery expression.
179. >"For me?"
180. "To say I was really sorry about making you leave."
181. >"You didn't have to."
182. >You chuckle as you sit down in front of a lava lamp.
183. "I wanted to."
184. >"Why?"
185. "People change, given enough incentive."
186. >She climbs down from the ceiling and sits beside you, her eyes gluing to the lamp.
187. >"Do you mind?"
188. >She points to your lap.
189. >As you pat your leg, she makes herself comfortable against you.
190. >Reflexively, be it from crippling loneliness or a sense of security, you hug the mothpony from behind.
191. "I never got your name."
192. >"It's Actias."
193. "I'm Anon. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

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>Tink. >Tink tink. >Tinktinktinktinktinktink. >The sound of a hard, velvety structure tapping against a thin glass pane echoes through a small, brightly lit room. "What do you want?" >"Let me in, I want to get a closer look at your lights!" >Tink tink tink. "Aren't there other lights for you to see? You know, street lights, porch lights, flood-lights?" >"I've already seen all of those in this town." "Go to another town." >"No!" >A very heavy sigh finds its way out of your mouth. "If I let you in, will you go away as soon as you're done?" >The odd terror gives a soft nod as she bumps her head into your window. >Tink. >She darts into the room almost as soon as the window slides up. >Her hooves and antennae start tapping against your desk lamp as this curious pony invades your home. >"What kind of light is this?" >You shrug and give her an aggravated look. >"I like it. Can I keep it?" "Will it make you go away faster?" >"Yes!" "Then take it." >She starts to giggle as she carefully unscrews the lightbulb from your lamp. >Even as it loses its glow, the mothpony continues tapping on the bulb's glass. "Has anyone ever told you how obnoxious you are?" >A bright smile forms across her lips as she nods enthusiastically. >"I always learned to take it as a compliment! After all, why let someone keep you down when you're enjoying the little things in life?" >That is oddly... profound. >Maybe these mothponies aren't only about tapping on glass, admiring lights, and eating cloth. >Yet, as you contemplate the intelligence of her statement, you hear the soft ripping of fabric behind you. >"These are gross!" >She's eating your sheets and blankets. >Or, less eating, more ripping them apart, chewing on the strands of fabric, and then spitting them out on the floor in disgust. >"Do you have anything fresher? Maybe a freshly cleaned silk sheet?" "No." >Rip. >Chew. >Spit. "Please stop that. I sleep on those, and need them for warmth." >"Oh, sorry." >She hops off of your bed and starts scooping the discarded strands of fabric up. >In a desperate attempt to appease your well-masked anger, she starts wringing the spit from the discarded fabric and lays them upon your bed. >"I-I'm sorry. I'll be leaving now." >With the lightbulb shoved into her mouth, she leaps out of your window. >Once more, you sigh. >She'll be back tomorrow night. >And the night after that. >With this same scenario playing out. >It's like Hell, except the demon that tortures you is an adorable mothpony. >But you've gotten used to it, even after the few days that it's occurred. >Maybe she'll stay a little longer tomorrow night. >"Get down from there." "But you'll grab me and throw me out!" >"And for good reason." >He's being mean again. >He tries so hard to hide his resentment for you. >It isn't your fault he coaxed you into his living room. >It isn't your fault he has a lot of really nice lights. >Ok, so he only has two or three incredibly droll looking lamps with plain, dusty lampshades on them. >But still, they're lights. >Well, they used to be. >You kind of shattered them in your excitement. >"I'm not going to tell you again. Get down." >He's pointing that portable light at you. "But I'm sorry!" >"I don't care." >You really are sorry. >He has the best lights in town. >Lights on windows that show moving pictures. >Lights on little screens that also make sounds and music. >Lights that glow different colors and flash in patterns and sequences. >His house is so magical! >"Look, you can either get down off of my ceiling right now, or I can get a broom and start hitting you with it." >You look up, or down depending on who's looking where. "I just wanted to be friends with you." >"I don't need friends. And besides, what do I have to offer you by way of friendship? And don't say lights or cloth." >You scrunch your face up in thought, that bright portable light shining on your face. >"That's what I thought. Please leave." >Defeated, you drop from the ceiling and stand in front of your host. >As you slowly walk past him, toward the door, you sigh. "I'm sorry." >He opens it for you, but just as you take off, you hear his voice. >"It's okay." >No animosity, no anger. >Just a hint of sincerity and loneliness. >The door closes, leaving you in the dark of the night. >Alone, with no company but the stars and the moon, and the occasional hoot of an owl. >You flutter back down to stand on his porch, a small whisper escaping your lips. "Please, open the door and let me stay the night." >But as hopeful as you are, the knob does not twist. >The door does not open. >And that strange, hairless creature does not welcome you back into his warm home. >It really was okay. >You didn't even like those lamps. >She did, you didn't. >The first day you met her, she tapped on that window for hours. >You didn't let her in. >The second day, you just closed the curtains and ignored her. >The third day, she spoke. >Her soft voice felt like velvet being rubbed in your ears. >Even then, you ignored her. >Last night, you let her into your home through your bedroom window. >Tonight you let her into more of the house. >A person can change, given enough incentive. >That mothpony might have found her way into more than just your home. "Open the door, Anon. She didn't leave, she's out there waiting." >The door acts as a brace for your head as you lean upon it. >Looking back into your living room, the now dark interior seems cold and uninviting. >A stark contrast to when that little mothpony was in here just a few seconds ago. >She adds a little bit of excitement to your life, and it's only been five days. "Just open the door." >Your hand fondles the doorknob, its cold metal warming to your touch. >It twists with little resistance. >The door swings open, revealing the night, as you step back. "Gone." >You don't even know her name. "She'll be back tomorrow. Just like every night." >The door closes once more as you return to your lonely life in your dark house. >Tink. >She's late. >Tink tink. >But she's back. >Tinktinktinktinktinktink. >You rush to the window and open it just before she can tap her head against it again. >"O-oh! Hello!" "Hey." >"Why are you smiling?" "No reason. Come in." >She hesitates before fluttering inside. >"You're kind of scaring me." "Why?" >"Well... You've been kind of mean." >She stays close to the window, obviously wary that you might try something. >You look away from her, shaking your head softly. "I'm sorry." >"What?" "I'm sorry, for how I've treated you. All you wanted was to see the lights, and I did more damage by trying to keep you away." >Her antennae droop a little bit, her eyes locking onto you. >"What are you saying?" >A hand rubs over your face as you let out an exasperated groan. "Do you want to go see the lights?" >She shifts uncomfortably from hoof to hoof, unsure of what your intentions are. >After a few moments of silent contemplation, she perks up and nods. >"Yes!" "Well then, let's go." >She closes the window before following you out of your bedroom. >The lights in the hall turn on with a flick of the switch. >They grab the little mothpony's attention. >"I like these." "There are more lights in the room on the left." >"Can I look at these some more?" "You'll have plenty of time to look at those later." >"Later?" >Without answering her, you walk into the room on the left. >She bumps into the wall as she follows, her eyes still locked to the hallway lights. "What's up with you and lights anyway?" >A shrug is offered. >"As far as I know, all mothponies are attracted to lights." "Weird." >"Can I see the new lights now?" "Of course." >With a flick of yet another switch, the entire room lights up. >Lights of all colors, bulbs of all shapes, and flashing LEDs with an assortment of patterns litter the walls and floor. >Definitely an epileptic's nightmare. >"Wow!" "Do you like it?" >"I love it!" >Her soft wings flare out in excitement as she starts cantering all around the room, from the floor to the ceiling, tapping on all of the lights. >"Have you always had all of these?" "Some are from the holidays, others I went out and bought." >"Bought? Why?" "For you." >She stares at you from the ceiling, a quizzical look distorting her normally cheery expression. >"For me?" "To say I was really sorry about making you leave." >"You didn't have to." >You chuckle as you sit down in front of a lava lamp. "I wanted to." >"Why?" "People change, given enough incentive." >She climbs down from the ceiling and sits beside you, her eyes gluing to the lamp. >"Do you mind?" >She points to your lap. >As you pat your leg, she makes herself comfortable against you. >Reflexively, be it from crippling loneliness or a sense of security, you hug the mothpony from behind. "I never got your name." >"It's Actias." "I'm Anon. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."