//------------------------------// // The Hero's Journey // Story: Our Hero: Overdone Cliché // by Amante //------------------------------// Tied up and captured by ruthless cultists. This kind of situation would make any other pony soil themselves. But for Overdone Cliché, this was just another Monday. Using his amazing wings he wriggled out of his way out of the pathetic excuse for bindings his captors had used. Now free, he spread his glorious black wings and gave them a good stretch. He didn’t like being awesome without first limbering up. As they extended he noted the metallic enhancements they had. His wings were injured in the explosion that killed his parents, but he had no time to relive such painful memories. He had an evil base to escape from. Right on cue, his door burst open and two of his captors stood menacingly as they prepared to inject him with more of their mind melting serum. But to their surprise, and it was written all over their faces, there he stood free and ready to kick flank. He charged, spun and wrote something else on their face, pain. The two were sent flying as they received a strong buck from Overdone’s perfect hindlegs. With the door clear he charged out and returned to the world outside. Carefully avoiding any more cultists, he found his way to a back door. Mind you, it wasn’t because he couldn’t take them on, but rather because he didn’t want to hurt anymore ponies. He found himself on the roof. The moon was at its apex as he surveyed the surrounding are. He realized he was in… VANHOOVER?! Damn these monsters! he thought. Sooner than later he heard hoofsteps rapidly making their ascent in the stairwell he had just left. He looked around and realized there was only one other choice. He jumped off and using his amazing abilities, caught an awning on the building below. Other ponies would be hurt from such a fall, but not Overdone Cliché. As he righted himself and regained his bearings he decided to lose his pursuers in the crowd. But as he made his way to the first group of ponies he saw, they immediately backed away from him. Then it hit him. Vanhoover must be their stronghold. They’ve probably used their subliminal messaging techniques to carve into these pony’s minds that he was an enemy. His eyes were glazed with sympathy as theirs oozed with fear. He took a breath before dashing into a dark alley. If anything, he could at least lose the cultists in the cover of darkness. It probably helped that his coat was a beautiful shade of ashen gray. If in the right light, you could even say it sparkled. He wound his way through the labyrinthine alleys and side roads. After a while the sound of hoofsteps began to fade away. He was in the clear. He approached a wider road but stopped right before stepping out. He perked up his ears and listened. Listened for any of those horrible ponies. No, horrible wasn’t enough for them. They were monsters. Absolute, heartless, soulless beasts. The things they did to him while they had him caught. They even hurt his beautiful wings. Now, the black plumage had to be supported by metal abominations. When he deemed the area safe to pass, he exited the alley and made his way eastward. First of all, he’d have to get out of the city. The ponies here were also particularly friendly, he noted. Each one gave him such a sweet smile. He tried to smile in return, but found that he couldn’t. For a moment, it bothered him that he was unable, but decided to shrug it off for now. There were, after all, more pressing issues at hoof. It did not take too long for him to reach the outskirts of the city. He saw quaint little houses in the area, but more importantly, he saw the trains. If he could board one, he would be able to get back to Canterlot in no time. His superiors were surely wondering where he was by now. He was their top agent and he was sent in to retrieve information on a group of terrorists, and when he had a job, he got it done. He decided to take the fastest route to the tracks, which just so happened to be through one of the little communities. As he passed by one particular house, the door opened and there stood a beautiful mare. She had ashen grey skin that, in that light, seemed to sparkle. She had inviting aqua eyes that radiated of innocence. She stared at him for a moment in apparent shock. She then rushed towards him and invited him inside. He sat on the couch as she fetched something for him to drink. She came back with a piping hot cup of iced tea. Perfect, he thought. She sat beside him and whispered sweet nothings into his ear as she brushed a hoof through his mane. The feeling reminded him of his parents as they let him sleep. He could not allow himself to be lost in memories though and so grabbed her hoof as he shook his head. She had a sad quality to the way she looked at him now. In a way, he felt sorry for her. He could never be her stallion. Not with the life he loved. No, it was too dangerous, she could easily be a target for any of his enemies. It was around this time that a heavy hoof knocked on the door of house. She excused herself to answer it. He tensed as she approached the door. Something seemed off about this entire place. The moment she opened the door, he knew he was right. There at the door stood several of the terrorists who had captured him. The harlot had betrayed him! Thinking quickly, he grabbed a lantern and threw it at the curtains. As he had hoped it ignited and a large blaze began to cover the room. Two of the burlier cultists proceeded towards him. When they got close enough though, he flipped the coffee table and used it against his assailants. The green tea spilled on the floor. It was a shame too, he was feeling particularly parched. As they were distracted by the table and the flame, he ran for the back and smashed through a window as he made his daring exit. He was already close enough to the tracks. If he manged to get on a train, he’d be safe. He galloped as fast as his legs could carry him. He looked over his shoulder and saw that the mare’s house was now entirely engulfed in flame. He smirked in triumph. After all, the only good terrorist was a dead one. In no time at all, he found himself on the tracks and as fate would have it, he heard the whistling of an approaching train. Unfortunately he also heard the whistles of the terrorists. They almost had him. It was only a matter of time before they got to him. But today was still not the day they would catch Overdone Cliché. The train started to pass him as he spread his wings. With one mighty beat, he took to the air and landed on top of a luggage cart. He kept low as they searched the area that he occupied not a minute ago. He wanted to laugh, but held it in as he could not afford to get caught now of all times. He approached the side and carefully opened the side door and snuck in. Nopony, just as he liked it. He had to start thinking of the report he was to give Princess Celestia when he got to Canterlot. After all, they expect only the best in all aspects from their top agent. A few hours passed and he still was not sure what to say. He realized it was morning when he saw the sunlight making their way through the tiny holes on the wall of the car. He had been too busy paying attention to the imperfections to realize that someone was in the car with him now. As he spun around he came face to face with a wide eyed terrorist. If there was one here, that means there would be more. No wonder they didn’t bother stopping the train, they knew that this was theirs. Worst of all was that the place was too small for him to use the techniques that had been taught to him by the ponies of the Frozen North. As he looked for something he could use as a weapon he noted that the door wasn’t locked. Thinking quickly he tossed several bags in his opponents direction and jumped out of the evil train. He tumbled and rolled down a grassy knoll just before stopping short of some woods. The train started to shrink into the distance as he got up. He still had to get to the capital though. But since they had seen him on board, that meant that they would start keeping an eye on the tracks which left him only one choice. Overdone Cliché turned and entered the dark of the woods. These woods were not malevolent like the Everfree’s so it wasn’t really as bad as it seemed. His stomach began to growl as he realized he hadn’t eaten yet. Thankfully though he was in his element. Since he was a child, he was trained with necessary survival skills. He skulked around the area until he found what he was looking for. A beautiful berry bush filled with gorgeous, splendid, sparkling fruit. Using his tongue, he scooped several of them up into his mouth and sank his teeth in. The explosion of flavor was gorgeous. His senses melted as the delicious juices made their way along his tongue and through his throat. He thought about his father and how he taught him to forage and survive in the wild. Of course, this was all before he landed in Equestria. Back then he was just an average kid. There wasn’t even anything really special about him. He got average grades, he had average looks, average friends. One day though, he got hit by a bus on his way home. Rather than end up in hell or heaven however, he ended up in some pony paradise. The most bizarre thing of course was that he was also a pony. As he lay there satisfied he thought about all the times his dad would take him camping. The times he showed him the lay of the land, how to hold a rifle, how to know which berries were safe to eat. A tear ran down his muzzle as he realized just how much he missed him. He was only a kid when he lost himself and came here. The moment he arrived, to his surprise, he was immediately taken in by the Princesses. Apparently, the reason they di so was because he had a great destiny to fulfill. But they could never really tell him what that was as it was for him to find out. So from the day he arrived he underwent training to prepare him for his eventual mission from on high. He snorted as he thought about it. He had been here so long he’d even forgotten his human name. Perhaps it wasn’t important, as the only thing that really mattered now was who he was, and he was Overdone Cliché, special agent of the princesses. He continued his trek east through the forest. At the very least, nopony was following him. After a while, he bumped into a stream. He bent down to take a much needed drink but was stopped when he saw the stallion in the water. The pont that looked at him had a black coat and two-toned, red and orange mane. He had bags under his eyes and his cheeks were terribly sunken. His pupils were dilated which made him feel as though they really were staring straight at his soul. This other pony scared him, so he struck a hoof out to force him to leave. As the water was disturbed the other pony flew away. Now that he was alone he took the drink he so very much needed. After several large gulps, he licked his lips in satisfaction. Moments later he started to move again. He still needed to get to Canterlot. As he left the watering hole, he noticed that the stallion from earlier was still staring at him. He snorted as he left. Night seemed to come even faster as the moon hurriedly replaced the sun in the sky. The light from said moon was not enough as he could barely see his two hooves infront of him. Seeing that moving was now pointless, he used his wings and landed on a stable part of the forest canopy. There, he gathered some of nature’s essentials and made a bed. He was always thankful how his father had shown him to use his wings like this. His eyes opened as the rays of the sun beat down upon them. It was time again to start moving. His head began to buzz as his body started to feel frail. He remembered the serum that the terrorists had been injecting into him. It was obvious that this was their effect. The pain and nausea was horrible. A moment later, he emptied the what contents his stomach had onto the ground. Disgusting, but effective as it allowed him to once again clear his thoughts. He had to keep moving. Canterlot would definitely have the antidote for the poison which meant that all he had to do was get there. He had been trotting for what he would assume was an hour when he heard a springing noise approach him. He ducked for cover in case it was one of the cultists. As he peered out of his chosen bush he noticed it was a little pink mare with pink fluffy hair. WIthout warning she turned her head and faced him. She had big blue eyes that were filled with sympathy. She approached him adn pulled him out of his bush. To his surprise, she wrapped her hooves around him and told him sweet nothings. He knew he could not leave this beautiful young mare here in the woods and so urged for her to follow. As they made their way through the woods, she talked and talked about this and that. He was ashamed to admit that he really wasn’t listening to her stories. In no time at all they came across a quaint little town. It wasn’t small by any stretch, but it wasn’t too big either. This was clearly her hometown as she gave a cheer and led him through it with ease. Before long they arrived at a large building that looked to be made of sweets. She made him sit down at a table and said a few more sweet nothings before bouncing back into the kitchen. As I sat there, he noticed that the other patrons were staring. This made him uncomfortable. Out of the corner of his eye, I saw one of the traitors that he had lost back in Vanhoover. He reacted as his training dictated and immediately dove for cover. The pony had noticed me and moved to draw a weapon, but was too late as I managed to buck the table I was using straight at the traitor. He then rushed into the kitchen to find a more effective weapon to use. As I burst through the doors he saw the pretty pink mare with fear in her eyes. He had to make sure they would not get to her and so he let her out of the back door. When he was sure they were gone, he opened all of the stoves and ovens. Once he was sure that the place was packed with gas, he rigged up an automatic igniter that was set to go off in twenty seconds. The moment I started it, I made for the window and jumped out. Right on time as an explosion rocked the area. Job well done if I did say so himself. As I turned away from the flaming dwelling, someone he was not expecting landed just in front of him, Princess Celestia. Although, he noted, she was wearing herself rather differently today. Instead of her pristine white coat, it was lavender. Instead of her long, flowing, aurora, it was a solid lump of purple with a cute little pink stripe. She was also much shorter today. She looked at him with surprise and worry. I then assured her that everything was fine and that I was ready to give my report. But being the benevolent leader that she was, she said that it could wait and that I should really get to rest first. I was ecstatic of course. A good warm bed would really hit the spot right about now. Two of her white guards then appeared around her and escorted me to a special palace that she had built in this town. Apparently it was especially for use for her agents. The place was as white as her highnesses coat. Once we got there, they helped me out of my old tattered clothes and into a very nice set of pajamas. The bed in the room was large and soft. As I lay there I thought about my victories today and smiled. Indeed, I was Overdone Cliché, master spy of Equestria. Nurse Redheart was looking into the secure room holding the poor pony when Princess Twilight Sparkle entered the hall. “How is he?” asked the royal. “Well, he didn’t give us too much trouble. He was actually very cooperative when we put on the strait jacket. He also just fell asleep when we put him in the room,” the nurse replied. “Did you find out anything about him?” “Yes. Apparently he’s the one who broke out of Vanhoover asylum. He managed to kick two of the orderlies unconscious. When he was out he managed to find his way to his sisters house. She tried to get him to relax, but the moment the doctors showed up, he freaked and almost burned the place down.” Redheart’s eyes expanded. “My, he sounds so dangerous. It’s a good thing he didn’t do anything to Pinkie when she found him.” “I doubt he could have. Pinkie found him half-starved to death and suffering from food poisoning. Most likely from eating a wild berry.” “Maybe so, but he was still able to blow up Sugarcube Corner. At least he had the decency to kick everyone out of the kitchen first.” “The damage also wasn’t too bad. The cakes had their walls reinforced and enchanted after the whole ‘Spike’ incident so it was able to contain the explosion to only the kitchen.” “That’s good to hear,” said Redheart. “Also, the Vanhoover authorities are on their way. They’ll make sure to take better care of him there.” Redheart smiled as she looked into the room at the sleeping form of Overdone Cliché.