Title:           Invasion 1
Author:          The_Tactician
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/33E08sFK
First Edit:      Wednesday 27th of August 2014 04:02:41 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Saturday 13th of December 2014 01:03:58 AM CDT

>Day sixty-three of Equestrian invasion.
 
>You sit on your couch and yawn, noting what a fucking boring day this has been.
>Ever since the portals first started opening, everyone has been on high alert.
>However, it has settled into a pattern which you have grown rather bored of.
>Ever since the start of the ‘invasions’, if you can even call them that, they have followed this same damnable pattern.
>Part one, portal opens somewhere. In the beginning, it was in a populated area, now it generally is in an area some distance away from somewhere populated.
>Part two, ponies spew from said portal and try to conquer some area.
>Part three, ponies generally get a bit of ground due to having the element of surprise and the ability to appear almost anywhere and got give a fuck about supply lines. Coincidentally, /pol/ explodes in this stage about it being ‘happening’ and thinking that ponies are actually going to actually start taking over.
>Part four, actual military shows up, ends some lives, and the ponies that get away fuck right back off to whatever pit they came from.
>On one hand, it seems rather like you can’t lose, given the fact that the ponies are right incompetent fucks that can’t make any major advances towards owning a significant foothold. The only thing that their military feels like it is good for is killing some civilians and off-guard cops before getting punted out of this reality by people who actually know what they are doing.
 
>On the other hand, humanity as a whole can’t make any significant gains on them either, if any at all. The portals only stay open long enough for them to get through and are extremely hard to detect, leaving everyone at a loss on how to stop them except in the short term.
>The media frenzy has been hilarious, at the very least.
>It is like nine-eleven cranked up to eleven bred with the concept of first contact and this whole event was its baby.
>You turn your attention back to the television.
>”Ten dead in Oregon this evening when the latest attack by the pony menace targeted a night bus-”
>You flip it over to Space, as nothing relevant has apparently happened today, it seems.
>”Help donate today to disaster relief organizations to help give those hurt in the war on humanity a bet-”
>You flip the channel again, this time to comedy.
>”You know what the funniest part about this invasion-”
>Pressing the power button, you turn the television off. Looks like television appears to be a lost cause if you want to hear something you haven’t had spouted at you ten times already in the past fourty-eight hours.
>Time to just masturbate for a while and go to bed then, you suppose.
>Booting on the good ol’ rig and navigating to your well-hidden porn folder, you prepare to unbuckle your pants before hearing a thunk outside of your house.
>Sighing and getting back up, you run some quick math in your head.
 
>Odds of that being a wild animal are probably around thirty percent, you think, and probably not a big one if it is one, judging by how heavy whatever smacked into your building was. People throwing shit were probably around ten percent, and someone sloshed tripping around back there were probably around fifty percent. Odds of it being a pony? Maybe three to five percent tops, from your wild-ass guess.
>Grabbing your trusty aluminum bat, you make your way to the door. If it is a person, they might have hurt themselves, and you might as well try and help if you can. The aluminum bat was, of course, in case it was a raccoon or something that was particularly angry.
>Going out the front door, you pull out your phone in the other hand and turn on the assistive light.
>Making your way around the house, you lean carefully around the corner to check what is there, only to spot a shape ill-defined in the night near the wall.
>You creep closer, and shine the light on the shape, hoping that nobody got hurt on your house.
>As soon as you see a black hoof, you lift your bat and prepare to smash it down on the pony, because oh shit they are actually in your neighbourhood before you stop yourself, seeing the rest of its features.
>It is a tad larger than the ponies you’ve seen in the news, and in its legs are numerous holes. In addition, it doesn’t have fur, whatever coating it looks a bit more like a black chitin. Along a dark blue spot that took up most of its back, there is a pair of translucent insect wings, and from its head sticks a single mildly curved horn.
>In combination with all that are its fangs, which make it look pretty damn menacing.
>What in the actual fuck is this thing? It most certainly isn’t a pony.
 
>You stand there awkwardly for a few moments, continuing to soak up the creature’s alien features, prepared to duck back around the house for cover with but a moment’s notice.
>Part of you really, really wants to smash its skull in, and then phone nine-one-one in order to get the corpse carted away, and maybe get you a medal if you can make something up about it trying to kill you.
>However, another part of you very much wants to move it inside and into a safe space so you can see how it reacts when it wakes up.
>After all, if it is some sort of pony soldier, you surely would have heard about it on the news already. However, it probably is from the same world, as it sure as hell isn’t from Earth and there isn’t any other world of you know of that Earth is in direct contact with.
>Deciding on a course of action, you put your phone in your pocket at an angle it so you still have some light to see with before holding your bat under beneath your arm and gingerly grabbing the creature by its shoulders.
>Its wings buzz a little as you do so, making you freeze up and carefully watch it to make sure that it isn’t waking up.
>Carefully, you make your way around back to the front, noting that the creature was actually quite heavy despite what you expected with the holes in its legs. Perhaps it had high muscle density.
>One more reason to not go anywhere without a baseball bat from now on, at the very least.
>Making your way to your garage, you open up the person-sized door next to the car door and drag it in, laying it on your dog’s old mattress, which you haven’t gotten rid of yet despite not really needing it any more.
 
>Closing and locking the door to the exterior, you have an idea.
>Quietly creeping back into your house, you grab your laptop and its charger before making your way back over to your desktop computer.
>Making a second Skype account really fast, you use that to login on your laptop before setting the power settings do that the screen goes off after thirty seconds of inactivity, but never really goes to sleep. Following that, you login on your main computer and start up a Skype call with the laptop, before enabling video on the laptop.
>Running the laptop out to the garage, you place it on top of a cabinet and plug it in before retreating back inside, locking the door from the interior to the garage.
>Grabbing some water, a few energy drinks, and some snacks, you sit in front of your desktop computer and mute the mic, watching the feed in silence with the knowledge that tonight is going to be a long night.
>After all, it was only one in the morning and you have no idea how long it was going to be before whatever the fuck it is woke up.
>It isn’t until seven-fifteen AM that the creature begins to stir.
>Slowly, at first, its eyes started to open before snapping open. They had an almost unearthly quality to them, being blue spheres rather than the standard eyes with pupils and irises.
>Upon opening its eyes, it jumped to its feet and its wings buzzed fervently as it looked around the room.
>What strikes you as odd, however, is the fact that it rapidly seems to calm down as it takes in the details of the room.
>It also makes no attempts at escape and takes to ‘merely’ examining the room.
>Whatever it is, it is quite intelligent.
 
>Hesitantly, you get up from your safe place in your chair and retrieve your bat once more.
>You are sacrificing your vision of the situation to do this, but you hope it is worth it.
>Making your way back over to the garage, you stand a few feet away from the door, staring it down as you steel yourself.
“Hey, I hear you in there, I take it you’re awake?”
>You carefully avoid saying anything that would be make it sound like you have a camera in the room, as you do.
>From the other side of the door, there is nothing but the sounds of shuffling for a few moments before you hear the creature speak in a distinctly female voice.
>“I am, who are you?”
“Ehh, just call me Anonymous. Who the hell are you?”
>You are the first man to speak to aliens peacefully without it being in an interrogation room, which strikes you as pretty awesome.
>She pauses.
>”Call me… Avariel.”
>You are almost certain that Avariel is not her real name.
“Alright, Avariel, what are you?”
>Might as well cut right to the chase.
>”Right to the point, aren’t you?”
“I’m not a subtle man.”
>”Very well then, the ponies call our kind changelings.”
>Isn’t that the name of a shapeshifting mythological species that kidnaps children and replaces them with their own young? Probably not a good sign.
>Then again, having pegasi and unicorns amongst the pony numbers, creatures known for purity in mythology, doesn’t stop them from being bellends, so perhaps mythology means nothing.
“And what do your kind call yourselves?”
>”It can’t be replicated verbally.”
>So their species probably has scent glands or telepathy or some shit as their primary form of communication. Good to know.
“Now, why are you here on Earth?”
>”Our kind seeks asylum.”
“From the ponies?”
>”Who else?”
 
“Well, I’m not exactly in the position to give such status…”
>And you’re quite wondering whether or not this is a trap.
>“Do you know someone that could?”
“Not personally, no, but I know OF a few people that could potentially do so.”
>You weren’t sure letting this changeling near anyone in a position of command would be a good idea.
>”Can you do something for me, Anonymous?”
>The request catches you off guard.
“Depends, what is it?”
>”I need to… recoup some after getting to this world. May I have use of this room for a while?”
>You weigh your options.
>On one hand, you COULD call the police and let them detain it, although you have a feeling it could end up in a prison camp while they try and beat the secrets to portals out of it.
>Phoning the media right now would also lead to a giant shitstorm, but probably leave it non-damaged, assuming it meant no harm.
>However, letting it be here for a while could potentially lead to it becoming hostile once it has ‘recouped’.
>A good way to deal with it might be rig up something to send off an email to a couple media outlets of emails with pictures of the changeling if you don’t click a button to not send it every once and a while.
>You are pretty sure you can roll with that, so even if you get captured or some shit everyone will know that it is out there.
>Last you heard, you could do that with Gmail.
“I think we can do that, just one moment.”
>You walk back over to your computer and snap a few screenshots of the changeling through the Skype feed before rigging up the email, and set for it to go off if you aren’t active for forty-eight hours.
 
>Moving back over to the door, stop in your previous spot once more.
“Alright, I jotted some things down as reminders. Anything else you need beside the room?”
>”I would appreciate some water, and to see who my gracious host is, if that is at all possible.”
>You don’t reply, first thinking about your options.
>Walking over to the door, you unlock and immediately take a few big steps back.
“Do not get within five feet of me, don’t charge up any magic when facing me, and don’t go in front of any windows.”
>”Very well.”
>The handle one the door jiggles a bit before swinging open to reveal the creature beyond the threshold.
>She is even more intimidating standing up, although you do your best to not let any uncertainty or fear show.
”So, this is my house, and the kitchen is this way…”
>You talk and smile while backing up as to not let her out of your sight. It wouldn’t be smart to turn your back on her. At least you had your bat in case she tried something.
>Ducking out into your kitchen, you quickly grab a glass from a cupboard and put it by the sink before turning back to face the doorway just as Avariel came around the corner.
“Glass is right there.”
>She nods and walks over to it before grabbing it with a hoof and turning the faucet on and retrieving a glass of water.
>”So, this is what a human house looks like?”
“Yes, were you expecting something different?”
>”No, no, there are just so many machines here.”
“Are there not many back where you come from?”
>”Ponies use very few, and changeling hives use even less.”
>You nod and she downs the glass before refilling it once more.
“If you want, I could show you some more of it.”
>You aren’t even sure why you said that.
>”Like what?”
>Fuck it, looks like you are rolling with it.
“Well, like the television, just follow me over here.”
>You make your way back over to your living room with Avariel not far behind, although you are constantly keeping track of her movements.
 
>Sitting on the couch, you grab the remote and turn on the television before flipping it to the news.
>”There are ten dead in night time attack on bus in Oregon by pony insurgents.”
>Ah, they were still banging on about that attack.
>”I thought humans had no magic.”
>Avariel stood there in a trance watching the television before slowly walking over to the couch and sitting on the other end, keeping her eyes on it all the while.
“We don’t.”
>”Then how do you explain this?”
>She gestures towards the television.
“A signal sent from outside contained in a certain way to contain information for sound and video which is then interpreted by the device to be reconstructed back into its original form.”
>“Oh.”
>She plunges deep in thought.
>”Retaliatory strike has left the ponies presumed responsible for the attack dead, although the official report has yet to come out on the situation, we can safely say that the world is just a bit safer.”
>”So, is this how you humans get your news?”
“Yeah, this is how most people do it.”
>Although you tend to get your news online instead.
>”Are there other things on it?”
“You could say that. We’re actually getting hundreds of other channels right now, but the television on focuses on one at a time.”
>It would be for the best if she didn’t know about the internet, if the television impressed her that much.
“I think I’ll be going to bed.”
>You stand up from the couch and point to the remote.
“Most of the functions should be obvious, and if it goes to a black screen but isn’t off, odds are you switched the input, so just press the input button until it says ‘HDMI-Side’ and it should fix itself.”
>”Very well then, goodnight, human.”
>You walk past the changeling and go upstairs into your room, locking the door behind you before undressing and jumping into bed, eager to get to sleep at the wonderfully early time of 9 AM.
 
>When you awaken, the first thing you notice is the fact that it is dark out once more.
>The second thing that you notice is that you can’t move your arms or legs.
>”You finally woke up, I see.”
>You turn your head to see Avariel next to the door, which was now opened.
“What the fuck is this shit?”
>Needless to say, you are pretty pissed.
>”Oh, all of this is unfortunate, but necessary.”
“Would you mind telling me what exactly it is necessary for?”
>Worry starts to grow within you, which really should have grown earlier.
>”Feeding, of course.”
>Your eyes widen immensely as she jumps onto the bed before straddling you with her horn lighting, magic to make sure that you can’t scream if the numbing is any indication.
>”Hush now, don’t you worry about a thing.”
>This is it, this is the fucking end, you should have just smashed her face in with the bat while you had the chance.
>Her head looms closer and closer, and with it those menacing fangs.
>You close your eyes and prepare for the end of your life.
>Yeah, you fucked up big. You hope that she makes it fast.
>The next thing you know, you feel something press against your lips and your eyes snap open.
>Looking downwards, you confirm it. She is kissing you.
>Before what is happening fully registers with you, a long, thin tongue forces your mouth open and begins wrestling with your own rather limp tongue, leaving you with not even a way to protest.
>As her ministrations continue, you begin to feel yourself growing a bit weaker, and her efforts becoming all the stronger.
>Then, she suddenly stops and withdraws her tongue and head.
>”I suppose I shouldn’t over do it. Rest well once more, human.”
>She wraps her front limbs behind your neck in some semblance of a hug before laying down on top of you, making even more sure that you can’t move.
>You can do nothing but wonder what the fuck just happened as you slowly pass out.