First attempt at satire so be gentle.
Inspiration: Glasgow.
The Nightbringer awoke, vast columns of power rising beyond his ethereal form. His robes, a scattered mess due to the weakness he now felt. He could but wonder what had gone on in the past events...
Pain.
The first thing the immense being felt was pain.
His head was killing him.
What the hell happened last night? He was trying to remember what had happened last night – last he remembered he was doing shots of Psyker essence with The Outsider, the mad (please do not swear). There was a reason that stuff was lethal to the C’tan.
His memories taken him back to the club, a nightmarish place where only the most horrifying or powerful denizens of the realms could gain access. Not even death was a reason to not show up. Abaddon had got rejected by the bouncers at the beginning of the night, for some reason the guy thought he could get in – the fool. Khorne laughed hard at this scene. Something he had no doubt expected.
His mind taken him back to scenes of total destruction, this was a normal Friday night to be honest...
His mind trailed back further.
The Deceiver and Tzeentch collectively flailing under the awesome psychic might and trickery that was Derren Brown.
Khorne sneaking Kharn in and letting him get absolutely hammered on Primarch blood – which was hilarious.
Russ beating The Emperor in a drinking contest was also brilliant. Though Russ did drink a bit too much and ended up leaving with Slaanesh...
People agreed that what happened there, stayed there.
Which led him to his next question, where the hell was he now?! He gazed upon his surroundings, examining every artefact surrounding his towering presence... There were trophies everywhere. Chalices and ornate books depicting a bird of some sort with some kind of jewel in it were scattered around the room... This worried him, if he was capable of such emotions; he had not seen such markings before.
Kicking off the covers with a mental whim, causing him some discomfort due to the raging hangover the Star God suffered from, he raised to his full height. As he did so more visions plagued his mind...
Guilliman and Magnus were playing shot-chess. The tactical acumen of the two players seen them both completely and utterly legless within about 20 minutes. They then wandered around the club, telling everyone that Fulgrim fancied them – he was not best pleased.
The Nightbringer finally found the door at the end of the room with a note. “Breakfast is in the kitchen
” it read. This only served to worry him further – for he could not recall anything past watching Mortarion drink a litre of Cilit Bang and proceed to vomit outside the club on the bouncer’s shoes.
Descending down a massive spiralling staircase, he noticed a few pictures, mainly of some kind of young avian creature... He could not place its familiarity. There were pictures of The Emperor everywhere and he got flashbacks of Horus arm wrestling him and losing because he couldn’t stop laughing at The Laughing God trying to stand after stealing Angron’s drink.
“Last night was brutal...” he muttered to himself in an unknown alien tongue.
Walking into the kitchen, he found a large red armoured figure with long blonde hair standing making omelettes.
“Sanguinus?! What the Hell happened last night?”
Sanguinus gave him a sly grin.
“Oh, hey you, you finally awake now? Y’know, for someone who’s slept for millennia, you still do fall asleep on a guy.” He uttered.
The Nightbringer, seemingly embarrassed by this, lowered his head slightly “Ah, well, y’know, the essence of some people makes you a bit drowsy if you have enough... I’m not normally like that... It’s never happened before... Honest...”
“Oh, it’s alright, you got the least of it – you should hear about what happened to Russ...”
“What happened to Russ?” The Nightbringer enquired, watching the Primarch stumble, clearly still drunk.
“What didn’t happen to Russ...” The Primarch snorted. ”He doesn’t remember, neither does Slaanesh, but he woke up with piercings everywhere. Man, his dad is going to be pissed...”
The Nightbringer took some solace in this fact. Slaanesh was a bit of a creep at the club, but it was always funny to see Khorne reject him again and again.
“So, erm, we’ll not be telling anyone of last night’s, umm, occurrences, yeah?”
The Primarch’s face looked to drop at this point, as though to indicate the most grave of news.
“I, well, I, umm, kind of told Horus...”
The Nightbringer’s massive form seemed to enlarge and sharpen at the mention of Horus knowing. He was well known for telling Abaddon everything he knew – which was bad considering he was the biggest (please do not swear) and gossip in the known galaxy.
“Oh Emperor on a stick this is bad!” He blazed, his incorporeal form hazing. “The Necrons and I are going to be the laughing stock of the entire galaxy! And the Warp!”
Sanguinus seemed to chuckle at the mention of mockery. “Kaelis, can I call you Kaelis, look, don’t worry about it. It’s just two immensely powerful beings getting intoxicated and enjoying a night out – what could possibly be bad about that?”
“You’re right” The Nightbringer agreed, his fluid metal form relaxing and moving on to retrieve his massive scythe from beside the sofa.
“It’s not like we did something completely ridiculous like team up to fight someone, right?” He joked.
“Right, that would just be totally absurd.” Sanguinus replied, his glowing form brightening and, at the mention of such a totally ludicrous concept, they both laughed.
also, the mane-cast
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