Title: Night Lord in equestria part 2 >Your eye twitches involuntarily. >The pink xen Author: churchwarden Pastebin link: http://pastebin.com/CUTZzBLX First Edit: Sunday 8th of April 2012 10:47:55 PM CDT Last Edit: Sunday 8th of April 2012 10:47:55 PM CDT Night Lord in equestria part 2 >Your eye twitches involuntarily. >The pink xenos looks up at you, enjoying the now flaming scenery >Losing what little patience you possessed, you snatch the pony by the throat and drop-kick her with all your gene-enhanced might >The loud crash in the distance tells you all you need to know about the xenos’ landing >Returning your attention to the vox-console, you now realize that perhaps using your flamer against the pink pony was perhaps not the most sound idea. >The screen is blackened with soot, what parts of the console that aren’t on fire are sparking ominously. >You promptly lose your shit. >Curses fly from your vox-grille, first in Nostroman, and then in just gurgles and growls of the most blind fury imaginable. >Animals that have not fled from your presence are deafened by your roaring expletives. >You fell trees with your lightning claws or headbutt massive dents into their trunks. >An Angry Marine would be proud. >Eventually, your tantrum loses steam as you get ahold of yourself. >The console is dead. Maybe more parts of your ship are around this planet? >Before you can come up with a plan to look for these parts, however, you hear the clip-clop of hooves in the distance. >Perhaps now is a good time to find cover. >A massive tree blocks your bulk from view nicely >Before too long, you hear voices. >”... sounds like he stopped screaming and punching trees.” >”What a brute! Using such brawn to try and hurt our dear Pinkie Pie! Barbarous!” >”Ah’ll say! He’s gotta be pretty strong to punt Pinkie all the way to Twilight’s house!” >”Where’s that big blue mother-bucker? I’ll knock his butt to next Tuesday!” >”M-maybe he’s just l-lost and scared. “ >”And this is where that funny machine was! That’s where that big blue guy was.” >They must be at the wreckage now. Time to shoot more xeno- >You reach for where your bolter should be, but it’s missing. >”Hey, what’s this?” >You peer around your cover ever so slightly. >Damn. They found your bolter. >Before you return to your cover, you take a look at your adversaries. >Two with horns, two with wings and two without anything special. >Considering the pink one’s capabilities, you have to assume they are all psykers. >You’re a Night Lord. You avoid fair fights at all times. >This would not be a fair fight. >Even if you had your bolter, you they would simply dodge the shots. >This is not good. >You know no fear, but you are not a fool. >You rack your mind for options. >One of them seemed timid, fearful, and perhaps a little empathetic. Perhaps you can win her over. >No. You won’t give up. You won’t be their prisoner.  >You have no other options. >Your Astartes mind rages against this, but you must keep a cool head. >Your fight against the corpse-god will come another day. >For now you must survive. >Their voices are getting closer. >You remove your helmet and stare at it briefly. >You chuckle to yourself. >This must be the dark gods’ petty revenge against your denial of their patronage. >So be it. >You step around the tree. >”Good day, little ponies.” >The pink one lifts a hoof in your direction. “That’s him!” >Before you can respond, a rainbow blur smacks into your chestplate, faster than even your enhanced vision can follow. >You barely even feel the impact through your armor. >The rainbow-headed pony slides down your chestplate with an audible squeaking noise and plops down on the ground, eyes spinning. >That was almost comical. >The other xenos are in varying degrees of shock and curiosity. Except for the pink one. She seems to be smiling. A most unsettling smile. >You decide to break the ice. >”As I said before, good day, little ponies.” >The yellow one cowers under your words. >The purple one gains some courage. “Wait, you can talk?” >”Of course I can talk, little one. How our languages are the same, I do not know, but it is fortuitous, nonetheless.” >The orange looks confused. “Too many big words. Talks like you Rarity.” >The white pony with a horn speaks up in a posh accent, “Well at least we know he has intelligence to match his strength.” >A compliment. You hadn’t heard a real compliment in many years. >The rainbow haired one is still stunned beneath you, emitting mumbles and groans every few seconds. >The purple one pipes up again. “He may be intelligent, but he hurt Pinkie Pie. He might be a follower of chaos.” >Your blood boils at the insinuation of being under the thrall of the dark ones. >Your voice turns to a low growl, “I do not serve the ruinous ones, XENOS. My father did not need their gifts and neither do I.” >The purple one apparently takes offence,  “Xenos? You’re the alien here!” >The orange one looks at you in confusion, “Who’re the roo-in-us ones?” >”The four gods of chaos: Tzeentch, Nurgle, Khorne and Slaanesh. Who else would I be referring to?” >The orange one continues to look dumbfounded. >”Nevermind. I do not serve ANY form of chaos,” you finish curtly. >”That doesn’t explain why you hurt Pinkie, ya big blue butthole!” A voice from below you remarks. >Such emotion, and no logic. Just like the mortals that served aboard your ship. >”YOU try getting tossed through a portal and see how YOU react to a world full strange new creatures, little one. Besides, you assaulted me the moment you saw me. You aren’t so different from me.” >The rainbow-haired horse seems taken aback by this unthought-of possibility. >The yellow one seems to muster up her courage at this. “S-see? He’s not so b-bad. He was just scared is all.” >Your mind rages against this thought. An Astartes? Scared? That’s more absurd than saying Tyranids make good housepets. >Stay focused. Let them think what they want to think. You must survive and make it back to the Long War. >She makes her way in front of you, standing beside her cyan counterpart. >You bend down on one knee to the small pony’s eye level. >”It’s... true. I was greatly troubled to be in a world like this. I reacted poorly. Forgive me.” >Though your face betrays no emotion, every muscle and fibre of your being DEMANDS you unsheathe your lightning claws and tear these xenos apart. >No. Later. After they have served their purpose. >”Girls, we need to talk,” the purple one says. >They form a tight huddle a few feet from you, whispering low. >Your gene-enhanced hearing manages to pick up their conversation. >”Well, girls, what should we do?” >”Ah say we give him a chance. He ‘pologized didn’t he? >”He seemed so lost and lonely. I say yes.” >”I don’t think so. He kicked Pinkie Pie through the roof of the library!” >”But it was so fun flying through the air! I want to do it again!” >”See Rainbow? Pinkie is willing to forgive him. Why can’t you? Be a little generous darling!” >”Fine, fine. I forgive him. That doesn’t mean I have to like him...” >”Well, he hates chaos... Who knows? He may help us fight Discord if he ever comes back!” >”Well I guess it’s settled then!” >They break their huddle and walk towards you, the cyan pony wearing a scowl. >The purple one, who is obviously the leader of this little group, trots up to you and says, “Well Mr... uh...” >”Xor-Tall Tashovallian” >She gives you a confused look, as does the orange pony. >You sigh, “Chosen will suffice.” >”Well Mr. Chosen, let us be the first to welcome you to Equestria!” >At this, the pink pony practically explodes in confetti and balloons and toots on a party horn. >”Since you’ve never been to Equestria before, I’ll have to throw you an extra big party for you!” >She toots on her party horn to make her point. >”What do you mean, a party?” You’d attended a feast with the Space wolves during the Great Crusade, but surely these ponies don’t party like those uncouth savages. >The pink xenos looks at you with an openmouthed, dumbfounded stare. The party horn falls from her mouth. >”You don’t know what a party is!? In that case I’ll have to make this party EPIC!” >She zooms off out of the clearing, leaving an empty dustcloud in her wake. >What in your father’s dark name have you gotten yourself into?