The kirin is outside your window


                                            Synopsis: And what are you gonna do about it?


                                            >The kirin is outside your window.

                                            >Why is the kirin outside your window?

                                            >That's what you're about to find out.

                                            "Hey! What are you doing out there?"

                                            >No response.

                                            "Uh, hello? Are you deaf?"

                                            >A shake of the head.

                                            "Wait, so you *can* hear me, then?"

                                            >A nod.

                                            "What, are you mute or something?"

                                            >Another nod.

                                            >You sigh.

                                            >It's mute, great.

                                            >Friendship academy did not prepare you for this.

                                            >Heading over to your front door, you place your hand over the door handle; might as well see what this kirin wants.

                                            >You hear movement on the other side.

                                            >Opening the door, you see the kirin standing on your front step.

                                            "Hi."

                                            >Ignoring your greeting, it quickly pushes past you into your living room.

                                            "Hey—ugh—yeah, sure, just come on in, I guess…"

                                            >With no other options present, you head back into your house, shutting the door.

                                            >As you get a closer look at your home invader, you note that it cuts a nice feminine figure, similar to the mares of Ponyville; she must be a she, right?

                                            >She also has a pair of saddlebags—one on each side.

                                            >She turns around to face you with the same expectant, yet somewhat-bored-looking half-lidded gaze that she has shown you all this time.

                                            "So? What's your deal?"

                                            >She stares at you.

                                            >Staring back at her, you ponder the orbs, and…aaaand…

                                            >Nope, still nothing.

                                            "Look, you're not giving me much to go on. Can't you find another…pony to help you? I'm kinda busy here."

                                            >What are you busy doing?

                                            >That's outside the scope of this green, and none of your business, bucko.

                                            >The kirin shakes her head.

                                            >And continues to stare at you.

                                            >And stares some more.

                                            >And stares some more.

                                            >And stares—

                                            "Okay, that's it. I'm sorry but I don't think I can help you with…whatever it is you want. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

                                            >The kirin frowns, and sits down on her haunches, clearly unimpressed by your hospitality.

                                            >But what are you supposed to do here? You simply aren't equipped to handle mute horse-things expecting you to mind-read.

                                            >Wait, you remember Fluttershy talking about kirin during that one time she showed up to your house dressed up as a fire extinguisher.

                                            >What did she say again…?

                                            >For perhaps the first time in your life, you invite Fluttershy's voice into your head as you channel her sage advice on kirin.

                                            >"The kirin are a proud and noble race who live over in Kirin Grove. They live a seclusive lifestyle, and when I first visited them, none of them spoke a word to me!"

                                            >Mute species, got it.

                                            >"They're also known for their fierce temper, for when they get angry they envelop their entire body in flames, becoming the fearsome nirik! In this frenzied state, they'll burn everything in sight to cinders, and they won't stop their rampage until they calm down, which usually takes several hours!"

                                            >Turns into a raging inferno when pissed, got it—wait, oh.

                                            >Oh no.

                                            >You have just let an easily-combustible quasi-unicorn creature into your very-flammable house.

                                            >Friendship academy *definitely* did not prepare you for this.


                                            >"Is informing you about the customs and complications of far-off cultures your fetish, Anon?"

                                            "Get out of my head, Fluttershy."

                                            >The kirin tilts her head at you.

                                            "Uh—don't worry about that."

                                            >You shake your head to dispatch any lingering remnants of the Fetishistic Fumbler, before readdressing the kirin.

                                            "Look, I think we may have gotten off on the wrong hoof-claw-thing here. I *do* want to help you, but you need to meet me halfway. Is there anyway you can show me what it is you want?"

                                            >The kirin nods at you, smiling, and starts rummaging through her saddlebags.

                                            >Soon after, she pulls something out—a book, and holds it out to you.

                                            >Glancing at it, you see that it's titled "The Kirin and You: A Guide to Kirin Customs."

                                            "Couldn't you have just given me that earli—"

                                            >You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

                                            "Never mind, just give it here."

                                            >Taking the book in your hands, you make your way over to your signature seat: Couch Anonymous.

                                            >Sitting down on your couch, you prepare to give the book a look through.

                                            >That is until the book floats out of your hands, magically opening to a specific page, before settling back into your grip.

                                            >Looking back at the kirin, you see the magical aura in her horn dissipate; it looks like your mystical friend wants to hurry things along.

                                            >You decide to read it aloud, makes you feel important.

                                            "Chapter Seven: How to Greet a Kirin."

                                            >You briefly wonder what the other chapters contain if it takes this long to consider saying hello to the bloody things, but that's a question for another time.

                                            "The kirin are a highly spiritual tribe. Their culture revolves around one of the essential energies that comprises the world: Karma.

                                            "Karma is a type of energy present in all beings. It is an invisible, yet ever-present aura that divulges one's inner thoughts and feelings.

                                            "To know Karma is to know peace, and it is through this peace that the kirin are able to understand each other without the need of words.

                                            "Between fellow kirin, they display their aura clearly, and are able to freely view each other's Karma without any complications.

                                            "However, other species such as…"

                                            >You see a "huma" crossed out.

                                            "…Minotaurs have their aura hidden due to generations of losing touch with their inner self, and thus, losing touch with their Karma.

                                            "Luckily, the olfactory senses of the kirin are highly adapted to examine this aura. By focusing efforts on one's Karma Point, even a traveller from a far-off land can have their aura analysed.

                                            "Therefore, when a kirin and a non-kirin greet each other, it is customary for the non-kirin to present themselves to the kirin so they can analyse their aura, ensuring that no secrets are kept between them."

                                            >She wants to sniff you.


                                            "A creature's Karma is most concentrated in the—you've gotta be kidding me."

                                            >You look up at the kirin.

                                            >She makes a twirling motion with her hoof; you assume that means "keep reading."

                                            >You sigh.

                                            "In the crotch."

                                            >You set the book down on a nearby table.

                                            "So let me get this straight, you came all this way to sniff my nuts?"

                                            >She nods, smiling.

                                            "I'm flattered, really, but I've never been much for cultural exchange, you know?"

                                            >Her smile turns upside down and she turns to your book, magically flipping a page.

                                            >She repeatedly jabs a hoof towards a particular passage.

                                            >Reluctantly, you read on.

                                            "To reject a kirin's greetings is one of the gravest insults one can make in their society. Several long and bloody wars have been ignited due to the initial careless correspondence between a non-kirin and a kirin."

                                            >Shakily, you look back up to the kirin.

                                            >She's scowling at you, and you notice sparks flying off of her mane.

                                            >You feel the temperature rising—

                                            "W-wait! Did I say I've 'never been much for cultural exchange?' I-I meant that I've never been there, much! You know, the—uh—cultural exchange place down the path? Next to the castle?"

                                            >She raises an eyebrow at you, mane still sparking.

                                            "…That means I'll do it."

                                            >Upon hearing that, the imminent floofy flame ceases its flaring up, and she hops into the air with glee.

                                            >Trotting over to your legs, she tentatively runs a hoof across your thigh, and her eyebrows slowly furrow in building frustration.

                                            "Huh? What's wrong?"

                                            >She turns back to the book, magically flipping through multiple pages—just how much of this book is dedicated to crotch inspection?


                                            >Once again, she points a hoof to a particular passage, and you read it aloud.

                                            "Garments that block access to the Karma Point must be removed—this is getting oddly specific."

                                            >Another spark flies off of her mane.

                                            "Okay! Okay! Fine!"

                                            >You take off your pants, unceremoniously throwing them to the side.

                                            "Undies stay on though."

                                            >She frowns at you, but as her eyes drift to your pelvis, her expression changes to one of mirth.

                                            >Positioning herself directly in front of your seated form, she spreads your legs apart with her hooves, granting her (mostly) unrestricted access to your family jewels.

                                            >God you feel like a whore.

                                            >She (at this point you hope to God she's a she) stuffs her snout right into your crotch, and I mean *right* in there, god damn.

                                            >She then takes an audible, stretched out inhale, taking the absolute biggest whiff that she can.

                                            >You close your eyes and try to imagine that it's Rarity going ham on your ham.

                                            >This all makes you feel very violated, but you're willing to let it slide for the sake of cultural exchange—and mostly keeping your house intact.

                                            >And at least she's a cute kirin mare, right?

                                            >"Mmmph, fuck yeah…that's the stuff, right there…" you hear a deep dulcet voice moan out.

                                            >Your eyes shoot open.

                                            "Wh-whuh—what—you—you could talk all along?!"

                                            >He chortles to himself, stomping his hooves in high spirits.

                                            >Those tones shake your very soul.

                                            >That voice—it's like Keith David and Sean Connery had sex and popped this guy out, fucking hell.

                                            >"Oh yeah, I could always talk. I was just messing with ya."

                                            "B-but the book—the book said…"

                                            >"That book? All me, baby."

                                            >You scramble to look at the book you've placed on the table.

                                            >The name of the author is written on the back.

                                            >'Chad Firecock'

                                            >Fuck.

                                            >The kirin turns to leave; he trots off, but not before flicking his tail aside to give you ample view of his…goods.

                                            >He winks; don't ask.

                                            >"Thanks for the sniff. Later nerd."

                                            >Unable to formulate a response, you simply watch as he leaves out the door he came through.

                                            >You sit there on the couch for a good while—contemplating life, your sexuality, Fluttershy, among other things.

                                            >He didn't even take his book back.

                                            >Actually, looking back at your table, you notice something else that wasn't there before the kirin got here; it's a bottle of some kind.

                                            >Did your violator of self and home leave you a gift? You reach out your hand to examine it.

                                            >It's a bottle of…

                                            >Kirin beer.

                                            >…

                                            >Fucking kirin.