Out in the country. That's where Garble said his family's property was, but frankly, there's jack shit out here so just about any house could be it. He'd review the instructions he'd been texted again, but frankly, he was having trouble even so much as putting one foot in front of the other. Reading comprehension was a little out of his depth at the moment, due to a triumvirate of sleep deprivation, inebriation, and the wind-down from an adrenaline high so staggering even the most brash daredevil would get a bit weak in the knees from it. He needed to shut down for a while. A few days would be nice, but Garble could only spare the room for a night before his folks came home.
There was a series of incidents that compounded on his already mounting frustrations as soon as he set foot on the property. The key wasn't hidden where it was supposed to be -- hell, he wasn't finding ANY stones that fit said key-hider's description -- and the doors were bolted tight. No loose window lock to speak of in the case that the key was gone, as he'd been promised. Also, he wasn't told there would be a noisy dog yapping angrily at him as he went by. Thankfully, he had a pocket full of treats for just such an occasion (he ran into a lot of guard dogs in his line of work) and the tranquilizers they were laced with put the mutt out pretty quick.
Muttering to himself, he made short work of one of the back windows, crawling into the house and, promptly, collapsing on to the first piece of suitable furniture he finds. And he's out in a manner of seconds.
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She doesn't stir at all as she sleeps, even though her dog starts barking in the middle of the night. However, a few hours later, when the sun rises into the morning sky and shines through her window, Applejack wakes up right away and damn near hops out of bed, stretching herself up onto her tiptoes until her back pops. She moves to her dresser, shedding her old sleeping clothes so she can get herself into her dirty and worn-out working attire. After she puts her long hair into a ponytail, she nods to herself in the mirror before grabbing her trademark hat and walking out of her room.
She makes her way down the stairs, her boots thudding on the wooden steps as she heads downstairs. She passes through the living room on her way to the kitchen, barely noticing the person on the-
She freezes midstep, turning around to look at the man passed out and snoring on her couch. Her eyes dart around the room, settling on the still opened back window. She grumbles before turning back to the snoozing man, walking over to stand in front of him. Her boot lifts to kick one of his legs which is hanging off the cushions, not particularly in a soft way.
"Hey, git up."
"Hmnn..." He rolls over on to his side, tucking the kicked leg back up against his body and paying no mind to the voice. Her brows furrow, and she grabs the brim of her hat before swinging it down to wap him in the face.
"I ain't playin' around, stranger! Git up!"
"Mehhh..." An eye perks open, just barely, looking up at her with half-conscious confusion. "...yrr no' Garble..."
The farmhand puts the hat back on her head. "No, I certainly ain't. Don't have any idea what yer doin' in my house, but y'all need ta high-tail it outta here."
The man rubs blearily at his eye with a hand, yawning and sitting up rather like a cat that's been disturbed from a nap. It's not that he's particularly alarmed or really cares about what she's doing, and there's a kind of self-important sluggishness to it like he has every right to sleep here. "Got th' time, lady?"
Applejack sighs as his apparent uncaring about being an intruder in her home, crossing her arms as she gives him an impatient look. "7 in th' mornin', if'n you must know."
"Mm. No, no, much too early." He flops back down. "I'll leave at...8:33. Works better."
She's about ready to toss him out on his ass herself, and judging by her size and how she's built, she could probably do just that. "Y'see, it's funny that ya think you have a choice 'bout when yer gonna be leavin'." She leans her head over his. "Ya don't. Git out."
"Au cointraire, ma petite chérie. I've nothing but choices. I mean. Move me if you want to. Might cause some damage, though. Would be a shame, most've the things in here look one of a kind. Lots of family artifacts r' something?"
She glares down at him. "I think y'all should be worryin' more about the damage I could do ta you." She jabs a finger into his chest. "Last chance, bucko. If'n I was you, I'd be takin' it."
He huffs petulantly. "And here I thought country folk were supposed to be hospitable. Sure the racket won't wake up the kid?" He glances over at a pair of small work boots against the wall.
"We'd be a might more hospitable if'n you'd jus' cooperate a bit more, ya know, considerin' you broke in las' night." She follows his glance to Bloom's boots. "And you'd be surprised what my family c'n sleep through. I reckon I could beat ya in ta next week and they'd be none the wiser 'bout it."
"Sounds like a lovely lot. And I did not /break in/. I was lead to think this establishment belonged to a--colleague of mine."
She blinks. "There ain't no one else but us out this far from town, how could ya mix it up that bad?"
"...wait what."
"There ain't no one around this here farm fer miles and miles." She looks down at him, brow creasing. "Are you sure you heard yer friend right, partner?"
"AbsolUTELY." He's upright all at once, digging through his ratty coat and producing a cell phone. It looks like it's barely holding together, stuck with duct tape and stickers. He holds the screen a few inches from his nose as he scrolls through old texts. "leftturnonorchardavenuetakearightonvalleybendturnataspengrove--oh. Oops. You would not BELIEVE how easy it is to mistake "Aspen Grove" for Apple Road. Heh."
"Aspen Grove? Shoot, that's dang near all the way on the other side of the closest town. S' a good 30-40 minutes away." She grins slightly at him. "You sure ain't the best with directions, friend." She pauses. "Who are ya, anyway?"
He comes up to his feet, though the effect is somewhat dampered by a slight stumble in his step. He compensates by pulling one of those pop-up tophats from behind his back with an elegant flourish and setting it atop his head. "I have many names, little lady. But you may refer to me as Discord. Disturbing peace and turning old fashioned family values on their head since 19...s'mthin's'mthin'." He extends a hand to catch hers, kissing her knuckles with a gentlemanly air as he bows to her. "And yours, my dear?"
Applejack blinks down at him, caught a bit off guard by the sudden shift from sleepy bum to gentleman. "Discord, huh?" She turns her hand in his grip, giving it a firm shake. "Well, I s'pose it's...nice ta meet ya, Discord. I'm Applejack."
"Oh look at us, we're getting along so well. SURELY my sleeping on your couch shouldn't be too big a thorn in your side, should it?"
"Look, I'd rather not hafta explain to my family why there's a strange man sleepin' on the couch." She lets his hand go, moving over towards the front door. She's already late with her chores from talking to him. "Jus' trust me when I say it'll be easier fer everyone if'n you weren't in here when they all wake up."
"Was worth an ask, I suppose." He sighs dramatically, sounding as theatrically heartbroken as possible. "Very well. I know when I'm not wanted. I guess I'll just go then. Out there. No home to return to. No friends to watch my back. Lost. Hungry. Very tired. And all alone."
"A cryin' shame." She opens the front door and walks out, leaving the door open behind her for him. She isn't gonna hassle herself with this anymore, and if he decides to stay after inviting himself in like he did, then she won't be responsible for him if the rest of her family hurts him. knowing them, especially her protective brother, it's a definite possibility.
He frowns, trailing after Applejack. "Just like that? You've got a poor hapless wandering soul on your hands and you just. Walk away? You cut me to the quick. Truly."
"Ta be frank, you ain't my responsibility. All I want is fer you ta be outta my house." She glances back at him as she pulls leather work gloves out of her back pocket, slipping them on. "An' lookit that, yer out. My work here is done, unless you wanna follow me around all day."
"Well, maybe I do! Maybe I've not fully given you a piece of my mind on just HOW offended this situation has made me! Maybe I just HAPPEN to have nothing to do at this moment so I figure I could kill a few hours. But mostly the first two things!"
She just listens to him yap, walking towards the barn. When they get to it, she stops outside the closed doors and turns around to face him fully. "Alright sugarcube, before I listen to that piece of yer mind that's sure ta be rivetin', I gotta go into town fer something. How 'bout ya tag along on the way there so we're not jus' wastin' time standin' around?"
"Oh, certainly. Might nick myself a bit of breakfast, if my stomach will agree to it."
Alright, partner." She turns back to the doors, hands clasping on the handles as she pulls them open. Instead of having horses or something like one would expect, the barn is empty save for a car right in the middle of it. It's a rather bright orange color, but it's faded, and rusty in a few spots, as if it was in the barn or sunlight for a few years straight. It doesn't even have a hood on it. Despite how the car looks, she beams, walking over to the driver's side. "Hop on in."
"Ooh. Nice ride you've got here." He means that based on his expression, running his fingers admiringly over the paint. "These cars just refuse to quit. They don't make them like this anymore."
Applejack looks over at him, arm bent and resting on the roof. "Yer tellin' me. The ol' girl was sittin' in the back corner of this here barn fer who knows how long after my Pa passed. Found it buried under some hay bales an' a tarp a year or two ago." She climbs in through the window, sitting in the driver's seat. "The door locks are jammed and rusted over an' won't let the doors open fer nothin', same with the trunk. Seats are like sittin' on bricks. Ya gotta wrestle with the wheel ta have it turn any decent amount." She grins, reaching into the glove box for the keys. "But nothin' will stop 'er, short of bein' blown ta smithereens."
Discord looks the car over, idly wondering just how many fireworks he could stuff into the old thing. Would make QUITE an explosion. Really, it's only his appreciation for the old and the interesting that keeps him from seriously considering it. Maybe he'll install an airbag into that silly old couch. Might teach the young farm hand a thing or two about evicting him from a simple piece of furniture before he's ready.
In any case, he gets into the passenger seat, reclining casually with his feet up on the dash as Applejack sticks the keys into the ignition, turning them with a sudden jerk. The engine sputters before rumbling awake, making the whole car vibrate. She grins, a gloved hand moving over to rest on the stick shift knob. Before she slips it into first gear, her foot presses the gas pedal down all the way, the car roaring like a demonic being flying right out of hell. Her grin only widens before she looks over at him. "I hope yer ready fer a ride."
And she shifts into first before slamming her foot back onto the pedal, the engine screaming, and the rear tires spinning wildly before they suddenly gain traction, lurching the car forward. She notices out of the corner of her eye that he jumps when the car moves and grips the seat. That was just the reaction she was hoping to get out of him, like her own little way of saying "this is fer bein' a smug, difficult jackass earlier" without actually saying it. She shifts into second as they fly down the dirt road towards town, apple trees whooshing past.
"As y'all can see, she still has plenty a' bite in 'er."