The G.S. theory
Everything was a big undefined blur. No delicate orderly physical objects here. Oh no, only mashes of messy colors everywhere.
“Owe… my precious head…” I groaned in response to the pounding pain crushing the sides of my head.
The first thing that assaulted my mind, in every single possible direction including the ones from beyond the fourth wall, was the feeling of touch.
The air… the hard stone under me, brushing against my fur… the contact from my wings against my left front leg… a slight pressure on the right side of my forehead… Not quite sure what was wrong with my mouth though… My tongue wasn’t quite in place it seems…
This…
My vision very briefly flashed black, as dictated by a muscle reflex.
“Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygoshYES! I just blinked!”
Buck everything else, my eyes were not stuck on a single thing! They could move.
My vision cleared up, showing me the Canterlot Gardens, from atop of a small stone pedestal. They were still on Celestia’s castle.
…I glanced around.
It worked!
My reaction was instantaneous. I threw myself on my hind legs and threw my front ones toward the sky.
“I’M ALIVE!”
However, all to my ecstasy, I forgot to pay attention to my position and tumbled forward, off my pedestal and face first into the grass. The pain was so inconsequential that I actually giggled.
This was just so awesome! Oh dear Celestia, I was probably making a good imitation of Rainbow Dash’s fangirl face.
Oh, the feeling of air passing through my throat and going down my lungs was wonderful. It made me shiver with pleasure.
I could not help the gigantic grin that occupied my face. I was no longer a statue.
…What was I actually?
The question kind of burst my bubble, my giddy behavior disappearing as suddenly as it came.
Confused, I rose up to my hooves (so… pony, I guess?), a bit gobbled smack. I had not hijacked any pony’s mind, so how was I even here?
Looking down answered one of my first question. My left front leg was not a pony’s leg. It was a griffon’s leg, complete with bird-like claws.
Okay, what? Seriously, what?
A weird premonition guiding my movement, I turned my head around, eying the wings I had felt earlier.
I blinked again. (Awesome!)
“Huh…” I tilted my head, staring at the dull grey pegasus wing and the wine red dragon wing on my back. “That’s new too…”
My coat seemed to reflect this… duality? I guess. Most of it was seemed split between red and gray, on tones very much like Discord’s own coat.
Ignoring the bile that rose in my throat at the simple mention of the utter bastard, I looked around for a pond or a fountain, anything reflective really. I clearly wasn’t a pegasus like I had first thought…
“Mirror, mirror…” I muttered, my voice coming off as strangely distorted.
After a small search, I located a fountain mounted by a statue of Celestia. Rapidly, I made my way over there, though not without some difficulties. I kept stumbling toward my left with every step!
Having one leg a bit shorter than the other three was just a pain…
‘That will take some time getting used to…’ I thought, frowning.
Grunting, I hauled up myself over the stony edges of the fountain, struggling to maintain some balance with an unbalanced body. In fact, I lost my footing, precariously hanging over the water, with my reflection staring back at me.
Snap.
The sight sent me laughing uproariously. Boy, Discord was one sneaky son of a female diamond dog.
“He made me a Gary Stu!” I yelled between two bouts of laughing.
That was just so utterly stupid! My body was that of a badly thought up pony. He had chosen pieces of stupid clichés and stuck them on me like a patchwork.
Air no longer entering my lungs, I found myself writhing on the edge, still laughing the creepiest laugher you could ever think of.
My movements eventually went over the edge, literally, as I rolled over and fell over into the fountain.
The cold water assaulted my senses and made me gasp, with an emotion other than giggly stupidity going through my skin. It triggered the last remnants of a survival instinct I thought long dead, pushing me to force myself to pierce through the surface.
Reflexes alone made me breath as soon as my head was out of the water.
With what little rationality I had left, I tried to swim, discovering that the mechanisms were rather different from what I was used to. Luckily, a griffon’s claws make for a very strong grip. With that alone (and admittedly, plenty of efforts), I was able to get out and roll over into the grass.
I decided to lie on my back, because.
“Riiiiiiight!” I snorted, thinking back on the weird image I had seen.
‘Describe it already!’ Madame Bucket yelled with indignation.
I blinked, staring into space. “I thought you were dead?”
‘We already went through this, dear.’ My friend rolled her eyes, however she managed to do that, I’d never know…
“Alright. Look, it’s simple.” I rolled off my back to stand up, deciding to trot toward the path. “My coat is bicolor, red and grey, though the way the spots are, I look a bit like a cow. First check, but a bit shaky. I’ve got wings, but one of these is a dragon’s. Solid double check. My left front leg is that of a griffon. Triple check, approaching Sue territory at light speed. I’ve got a tail that is clearly not that of a pony, more like a… lion, maybe? Crashing into Suetopia imminent, prepare the airbags. Finally, I’ve got fangs, a snake’s tongue, yellow reptilian eyes and a demonic horn on my right temple. My ship exploded and I’m stuck in the dark and edgy side of suedom.”
‘Oh my…’
“You said it, Madame Bucket.” I nodded.
Hooves light, I trotted my way into the maze. At any given intersection, I would turn in a random direction, not truly paying attention to it.
“So, you see, right now, I’m not very worried. Characters like what I’m supposed to be get everything they want easily and with virtually no struggle.” I chuckled, eying the beautiful blue sky.
It was so pretty… so… predictable. The urge to turn it red filled every pores of my skin. There had to be a less boring color than that. Blood red would do.
…the hay?!
‘Where did that come from, darling?’ That posh lady Madame Bucket demanded an explanation, with outrage might I add.
“I…” My weird sueish body came to a halt as I lowered my gaze to the ground. “I have no idea.”
‘I say! This is most troubling, dear.’
I looked up, toward the direction I imagined her voice was coming from. It was easy for me to see the shape of a bucket floating around, giving off a disapproving glare.
Sheepishly, I turned around to avoid her suspicious glare. If I were to be perfectly honest with myself though, I’d admit that she was justified. The urge had not disappeared. It was still within me, pulsing, though my friend’s outburst had relocated it deep beneath my skin.
This was all very disturbing.
What was up with that? Was that my more demonic nature, obviously coming as a package deal with a third of my physical appearance, expressing itself through darker ideas? Struggles? No way, Gary Stu, remember?
Right?
…Right?
Right.
Right...
In spite of my rising anxiety, I let out a soft giggle.
The sound was bizarre, distorted in more ways than one.
That made me laugh some more.
As a vicious cycle, the sound of my own laugher crept the crap out of me. It was reverberating, an echo that kept on going, with a different voice each time. Heck, the last one always seemed to be like that of a… of a… little filly.
My body froze abruptly, left claw sinking into the dirt as it contracted brutally. My jaw was clenched together, hard. It was simply lucky my tongue wasn’t out at the moment. It would have been cut off.
“He…” I started, only to stop at the confirmation carried by that single word. “T-this is really…”
My vision blurred, replacing my red hoof and paw by much chubbier and shorter orange hooves. I knew this voice…
“Orange Zest,” I muttered sadly, hanging my head low.
This world would not let me forget, would it? No rest for the wicked, no peace for the guilty!
Hay, now that I listened carefully, I could make out other voices, like that grandpa, who sounded like sandpaper and his throat were good buddies back in the good old days. It wasn’t hard to deduce from that who were the owners of the remaining voices.
Wow, even talking would make me feel like crap now.
Maybe I wasn’t a Sue after all.
I held out my front legs on each side of me, tilting them slightly as I argued with myself on that issue. Sure, the unusual race of pony was very supportive of the theory, but the fact remained that I needed more proof. So far, there was at least one counterargument in the form of my voice being the most mind screwing feature I could think of any day. Hay, foals would run in fear the second they heard it.
Mentally, I had reached a simple conclusion. Discord had to be somehow behind it, probably his true parting gift. If so, then the question was very simple: hell or ironic hell?
Because let’s be honest, I’ve given up on the goodies in life at this point. He was free, time to be his pawn in the great bingo of the draconequus. I would either be a balanced character with his owns flaws or a parody of everything any reader loath.
‘I will love you whichever version you turn up to be, dear.’ Madame Bucket assured me.
“T-thanks!” I replied, taken aback by this unexpected kindness. Good friends know when to say the right things!
‘Besides, even if you found out you were just an unusual pony or a mutant race, this does not change the fact that you will not get a shot at a happy life in this world with You-Know-Who running about!’
“Voldemort is here?!” I screamed in horror, terrifying images flying through my mind.
Until the one where Twilight and him dueled to the death. That sounded awesome. The Unicorn-Who-Lived versus her archnemes-
A burst of pain knocked the stupid out of me, temporarily. Looking up, I saw nothing but a brief flash of light and maybe the shape of a bucket. How? No idea, it happened.
Or I hallucinated. Would you place bets against this?
‘BE SERIOUS!’ The posh bucket shrieked, trembling with indignation, even as she materialized at my fe- hooves… ‘Your worst enemy is loose, the prison has been proven insecure, the stone has cracked from top to bottom, the chaos is spreading, THE END IS NEAR!’
“And the bucket is hysterical?” I replied, tilting my head to the side in confusion. “Would you please calm down and stop using euphemism or roundabout description. Nobody likes to hear that.”
‘WHAT COLOR IS THE SKY?!’
My eyes became as wide as saucers. Blown by the revelation, I looked up, as if to confirm that it wasn’t just my overacting imagination. It… wasn’t…
Blue… clear sky blue… so peaceful… so bo-
“ARGH!” I shook my head angrily, trying to rid myself of those thoughts. There were far more urgent businesses to take care of now.
Like why was the sky blue when Discord had been freed since… err… I knew not the time I had actually spent in the stone statue, but it had been a LONG time.
“What do you suggest?” I asked the metallic object, because she clearly knew better than me.
‘Go talk to the princesses now. Or the girls, you know the ones.’ Her accent slipped slightly at the end, with what I perceived was worry. That bucket had a heart of gold. ‘If the Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony is loose but the world hasn’t gone mad, then perhaps you still have the time to make a difference.’
Ooooh, that’s sueish enough for my design. The balance tilted again!
But, regardless of that, I felt a flicker of confidence return to me. Some of the persistence I had before was renewed, even as I tried to make my decision. Glancing over the hedges showed me nothing but the sky… and the castle.
There had been something about a scientist and going to speak to a prince, right? If that was the case, then maybe it would be best to try my hooves elsewhere.
‘But the castle is by far the nearest building in the vicinity,’ Madame Bucket pointed out sensibly. ‘Not to mention the fact that this is the royal gardens. Chances are you will end up in the castle before you get the chance to get into the other parts of Canterlot.’
My dilemma was solved even before she had finished. No, a mad but brilliant idea had birthed into my brain, with little concerns to issues such as self-preservation.
It would even confirm or debunk my earlier theory.
With a large (too large) grin on my face, I wordlessly turned to the hedges of the labyrinth, walking up to the serenely.
‘Dear?’ My friend questioned, clearly unsure of what to make of this new development.
If I had any pair of sunglasses, I would have put them on dramatically, before trying to crack my knuckles intimidatingly. Unfortunately, this sort of thing tends to fail without knuckles and sunglasses.
Swag failure notwithstanding, I nonetheless pushed my hoof into the hedge.
‘What… are you doing?’
“Putting this world to the test,” I answered, still grinning.
I stood on my hind legs, shifting my weight clumsily. There was something inherently wrong about this new form. It was as if it was a pair of heavy shackles were chained to my wings, affecting my balance.
Slowly, I rose my griffon paw over my head, before pushing them into the hedge as well. My grip closed on some branches and leaves, firmer than I had expected. Good, it was a step in the right direction.
Carefully, shifting my weight on my front legs, I held myself in the air for a brief moment, then I pushed both of my hind legs into the hedge. I was now, more or less, standing vertically, head toward the sky.
‘What in the name of Stan the janitor are you doing?!’ Madame Bucket asked loudly, clearly on the verge of hysteria.
“I told you,” I grinned, looking at her upside down. “I’m testing if I am a Gary Stu or not. Since I never tried climbing a hedge before, succeeding on my first try will definitely tell me what I need.”
‘And if you aren’t?’ She inquired.
“Then I fall.” I shrugged, which nearly made me topple. Fortunately, at least one of my legs was very firmly attached.
One hoof (and alternatively a paw, you get the idea) at a time, I planted them higher and higher into the hedge, defying gravity through leg and abdominal muscles alone. With each step, I got closer to the top and Madame Bucket, to panic.
‘You’ll kill yourself, you idiot!’ She screamed, obviously worried sick.
“Can’t hear you,” I screamed, “the wind is too loud!”
‘There is no wind in this place!’
Whoa Nelly, she sounded pissed enough to buck me behind the head… you know, if she actually had legs and was not just, probably, a figment of my imagination given life to combat CRUSHING LONELINESS!
I chuckled, biting into some branch to secure my hold. My fangs sank into the wood with ease, which was a little freaky to be honest. However, the thought became fleeting soon enough, as I made another grab for the hedge, pushing myself up again.
From my point of view, I had almost reached the top. From Madame Bucket’s, I might as well try to swallow a living cobra headfirst, hoping it won’t bite.
Her hysterical scream did not hamper my determination, or my climbing skills. With a forced grin, I made the final push to the top.
Gary Stu test number one had been successfully cleared. Without any training, for no good reason, I had been able to climb a ten meters high hedge on my first attempt because I wanted to.
An absurd desire to giggle bubbled up inside my chest. This was ridiculous.
Heck, the wind that was blowing at this height did little to discourage or destabilize me. Nope, I was very firmly rooted in place thanks to my claws.
“No doubt about this…” I said, rising my head toward the sun, listening to the distorted echoes of ponies I had tormented in my own voice. “I’m my own most loathed character. There’s just something ironic about this.”
Like my own secure knowledge that this place was stable after a one second long evaluation.
Under my right hoof, the plant that had been supporting my weight gave out with a sickening crack. Instantly, my balance thrown into disarray, the whole right side of my body sank into the hedge. My face took the blunt of the hit however, cheeks and ears whipped and scratched by dozens of little branches.
Spitting out leaves and hissing, I threw myself out of this greenish hell, more than annoyed at the twinkle of blood dripping down my bruised face. Of course, being unfamiliar with this body’s strength, I completely over evaluated the amount of effort needed and ended up in the air, at a height promising some unpleasant injuries.
‘SEE?! THIS IS WHAT I WAS AFRAID OF!’ My dear friend shrieked.
“NOT HELPING RIGHT NOW!” I screamed, frantically waving my legs around uselessly.
Oooooh, that ground looked painful! I did not want the pain! And it was getting closer fast!
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Hey, Rainbow Dash crashed on the ground at high speed and only got a broken wing or something like that. I totally wouldn’t die. No, I’d just be left lying on the ground with the pain of broken limbs and a seething imaginary bucket for company as I waited for somepony to rescue me, in a maze!
Ohmygoshno!
Now well into the realm of panic myself, my mind made dozens of ideas flash before my eyes, most of them impractical or ineffective (casting Reverse Gravity, really?). It was to the point instinct turned into a better advisor.
Without thinking, I stretched my wings to their full length, gaining a measure of control, that is to say a flimsy, feeble, lousy level of control.
Gliding headfirst toward the ground, I let out a yelp, wondering how the heck to control my flight without any controller. Flight simulators always seemed like dull games to me, making me feel like an idiot now that I needed something to rely on here.
My body’s first response to the prospect of falling headfirst into the ground was to bend backward, in a painful position for my poor abused spine. Nonetheless, I got the satisfaction of seeing the ground slowly sliding under my field of vision, now filled with green hedges and a glimpse of the sky.
The momentum of falling was enough to propel me over the maze, by a few feet at least.
“Gotta keep flying.” I told myself, looking at the garden below me with apprehension. “I’m never doing this again.”
Heart beating fast, I started agitating my wings in a rhythm, fighting the unbalance of those incompatible wings of mine. The way they folded was… different. This gave me the creeps with each movement.
“Eh, I wonder if I will have to dodge some pegasi guards…” I asked out loud, grinning.
The possible results of such encounters gave me a foreboding feeling of doom. Oh, I’d get the short end of the stick, sure, but I could not help this hilarity.
I was definitely crazy.
“TO PONYVILLE!” I screamed, just to tempt fate to screw me over.
It wouldn’t be the first time…
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2017137 I sense a pattern here...
2017146 eeyup
Awaiting chapter 3.
When's Gary gonna be discovered?
Should we just start calling this guy Gary 'cause I don't remember his name. Hell, I doubt he remembers his own name, ignoring he remembers the name of a filly he temporarily occupied.
2018281 Eh, when he meets a pony?
2019148 It's a good thing you don't remember his name, since he hasn't revealed it yet. Call him what you want, because chances are he did forget it.
Yep, he's gone bonkers. Official diagnosis.
2021231 Interesting idea, doctor.
2020886That's dancing around the question.
You know full well that we all know that's how he's discovered. I want to know how many more chapters until pony on gary hilarities ensue.
2023399 Yes, I love boogying around the question. It's what I do. Spoilers are the bane of my existence. You won't hear me spouting some. Any and all attempts to fish for information will be like talking to a wall: unproductive. Sometimes I give out a little info as a sneak peak, but even that is rare. *cough* maybe one-two chapters? *cough*
2025467Thank you. While his unintelligible ramblings are a bit funny, you can only go so far without some kind of interaction.
How do you climb up a hedge, let alone stand on one? It's a hedge.
6403642
You grab the branches that it is made of. A hedge isn't a fictional construct, it is a physical object that can be interacted with.