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An Apple a Day Keeps Discord at Bay [Invite]


RexDraco

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@SteelEagle

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Were one to talk of the past, this story would have to be set in the summer. Though the fall and winter currently paced the northern skies, keeping skies grey and turning lakes to ice, this was during what was better known as Summer's break. It was usually around this time foals were set free from the torture of hot, crowded schoolhouses that could not do much to stave off the summer's heat. With home study lessons given out to keep them occupied and learning, many took the opportunity to stray from chores and run off the the school's yard to practice their stick ball games, or climb the old trees that gnarled it's boundaries. Blue skies were scarcely painted by the would plumes encountered during the spring, which ushered in rains. Now, the heat did well to dry up the remnant folds of white that once offered shade in the early reaches of the summer's touch.

 

Farmers and other workers were not so lucky. While foals could run about and tarry on their lessons, it was something wholly different for working adults. This dreary recourse is what caused the spirit to think and wonder. In the schoolyard foals played to their heart's content. In the tree above the serpentine chimera, supposedly of pony and dragon despite his numerous other parts, was lounges on a branch, like a lazy cat pretending they weren't in the room with you, and twas little more than pure coincidence. He would knock the ball off the roof or aide in the stealing of bases or topple enemy block forts making then ripe for conquest. 

 

"If the adults are working why am I left foal sitting? I think I am just as capable as other ponies to be part of a workforce." Though anything involving cubicles gave him nightmares.

 

The spirit much preferred something fun, amusing. If he couldn't use it to show off or place himself in an advantageous position, why bother? Well for the simple fact it could be a way to figure out new things about ponies and their silly pretenses on life and how it should be lived. Maybe he was just old in his thinking, but being spared a cataclysm or two didn't do well for a species' growth! Though that did give him a wonderfully, terrible, idea. Why couldn't he work? Yes. He did fancy that game the boys played. He had to admit having ready figurines to animate for a game of O&O was much easier than manifesting armies. The latter had tendencies create spacial rips in time and space. Repairable mind you, just not advisable to accidentally summon a creature from another realm than a paper cut out of the actual final boss.

 

Things happened. You live, you learn and hug them until they forget the horrors summoned from the deep! "Next time I won't be using that spell word." He pressed his paw to his chest, fluffing up a bit at the unsavoury memory.

 

Sitting his head up he stared off into the distance. Perched precariously as he was, the chimeric limbed beast seemed right at home in the odd posture. His paw barely held on, the hind talon and his claws taking up most that work as his body coiled once around the branch before his torso lay flat, forelimbs rest. The beast's red scaled tail dangled low on the branch, swinging to and fro as some young foals thought it keen to swing from it and sit upon it like a rope. Feeling the last of them slide off as they went off to play tag the chaotic beast pushed to sit up, arching his back before pouncing off the branch. 

 

In his place would appear an older pony, now left to substitute for the wriggly spirit. Discord would vanish in a flash before reappearing in the distance with a pair of binoculars in paw. With a most accurate and crystal clear zoom the draconequus powered around Ponyville for vi-- playmates. It was too hot to spend it outside, hence his tree perching amidst the shade rather than playing with the foals as he usually did.

 

Ah, one by one it seems the others were trying to enjoy the great outdoors or were busy. It was the luck if the draw that one pony drew the spirit's incurable hyperactivity. Wiggling he hurled the viewfinders backwards, sending them into oblivion, or in this case taking down and starling a cat. He winced and looked down at the mess he made below. "Oh they were going to knock down the trash cans anyway!" He clapped his paw and claw together, warping off to his destination. His first stop this heated afternoon? 

 

Apple Family Farm.

 

While sometimes he liked to, ah, help, the apple crops by turning them various designer colors and likely sending certain work mares into a fit, he felt boring old red and green were old hat. Now where was his goooood and stubborn friend? 


 

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Applejack was not one to look a gift horse, or in this case brother, in the mouth when a good thing came along. She figured that it was simply the culmination of several weeks of really excellent work on their part but it was hard to imagine just how well it would have worked out. Previous years she had done something similar but found her hopes dashed when some small thing managed to run up alongside her hopes and bash'm across the head. But not now! It had worked this year. Let nopony say she was just a pony who did physical labor and that alone, because she had a week over in the middle of the harvest off and she was super proud of how it happened. So much so that when Big Mac told her it had worked, she had almost started a party in the middle of the barn.

 

Usually the farm's excess, not so prime stock would be kept for only so long before it was destroyed fo health and sanitation reasons. They were able to sell parts of it for various purposes at reduced prices, but they still ended up tossing much of it and still needing to harvest for juices and pies and the such, which took away from the upcoming cider season as well as their normal tolls of their business. She had number crunched and for years had perfected a formula to predict the number of apples they were gonna have every year go bad on 'em. It was all just a bit of predictive analysis and while she did the lion's share of the work late at night at her bedside, Twilight had helped out to make sure she was right.

 

And she was right, with a deviation of a few bushels (which when you had hundreds of bushels a year that 'went bad' was very acceptable). Since she had prepped for those predictions she had taken the exact amount of orders for the exact products needed. ALl the orders were filled and she had saved the farm a lot of labor, which was maybe the first time in the history of forever that had been said. When Big Mac told her that she was right and the farm was basically off for a week, her first reaction had been to pinch him. When he yelped in pain at that and she had apologized, she called for an impromptu party for the rest of the family, which had ended not that long ago. 

 

Now here she was out in the Orchards, just looking around without much of a care in the world. There were so many tasks that would normally be required of her on a day like this but guess what? Not a thing. Not one thing! She ended up deciding on finding a nice place out in the orchard and laying against a tree, brim pulled down over her eyes, a cornstalk in her mouth and legs crossed. Just relaxing in peace and quiet, and happy to know it would remain like that for a full week!

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The apple trees were always quite impressive. They were clearly loved, taken care of. The spirit never saw reason to do the trees any sort of harm. He was not a being of destruction. He simply removed the constant and created variables in a measurable world, making it new and breathtaking. He may not be the reason entropy occurs, but he is certainly the reason it exists. Anything worth having will never last forever. Not stone, not a kingdom. You could politely refuse him, or give him an ultimatum, but there was no stopping him once he had an idea in his head. It was better to play the game and use it to your advantage.

 

The chimeric ribbon fluttered through the orchards in search for its owners. While Granny Smith never proved to be a distraction, her stories always quite amusing to stop by for a short bit. Her confused state hid a sharp little apple that Discord coils appreciate. Work was the way of the apples, who suffered long and hard to build their business. Though there were times a business needed a little inspiration and change. He felt that was where he had to step in.

 

Buwahahaha!

 

Well he didn't want to anger the Apples, ruin her family's business or their livelihood. He meant such games in good fun. Though as he lurked through the trees and inspected the fields he would find something very wrong. His features contorted ad his investigation lead him to a most abrupt conclusion. He appeared at the top of the Barn's weathervane. He would slither out a nearby barrel and camouflage amongst the rooting pigs. No matter where he checked he could find neither hide not hair of the ever present Apples. Had something horrid come to pass?

 

After but a moment the leaves in the canopy above the napping Apple would disturb. Stillness would once again come over the summer air before, again, the branches rattled. From the verde foliage slithered a pair of horns. More and more did the long, serpentine length dangle down only for, moments in, the fact to be revealed that it was Discord. His expression was flat: brows lines solidly over his forehead, as if faced with a dire circumstance. His claw pulled down and moved to tap his muzzle thoughtfully.

 

"Do Apples sleep?" A vexing conundrum. His paw dangled down from the leaves, a sharp stick in his grip. "I'll need to test this." He would try to lower the branch and fish up the mare's hat. "Gently now…" he whispered, not really, but he pretended to. "Gently!" He would try to fish it up, or down in his case, and inspect the fallen Apple for bruises. 

 

He was quiet several seconds. "Applejack are you alright!?" He barked loudly enough to wake discarded cores from their fate.

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Applejack was lost in that wonderful state between sleep and the waking world, where time passed in this semi-lurid state. Seconds were hours and hours were second as she rested and allowed the sun to roll over her. For a mare that spent almost all of her waking time at the orchard it was only on the rare occasions where she was allowed to rest that she could truly appreciate just how much peace was her reward for such hard work. The birds singing in the distance and the gentle rustling of the laves played host to the soft, sweet, warm air dancing around her. The soft grass, hard but supple trees, fine rewards as far as she was concerned. She loved her work and she was an earnest and honest fan of adventure and roughhousing, but that made a good rest all the better. She worked hard, played hard, and rested well. Seemed fair and just to her!

 

It was in this state of bliss that something started to needle her. Branches moving, leaves falling, that quiet peace being disturbed in a small way. Her eyes inquisitively began the process of wanting to open from their milky-loose screening of the outer world but rest reclaimed that initiative quickly. Probably a squirrel or some other small critter hopping about. She wasn't about to get up on account of that. What was she going to do, be angry at a bunch of squirrels? Fat chance, that. She went back to her full rest, but it seemed like something was playing with her hat. She could ignorance most things but that piqued her interest. Her eyes started to open up in fluttering waves as her hat was played with, curiosity lightly played as she just assumed it was another small critter mixed up in her space. Nothing to write home about it.

 

Then Discord yelled.
Applejack leaped up, her head smacking lightly against a half-branch above her and creating a divot in her hat. She stumbled about for a second bleary eyed with pain shooting across her before she shook her head and looked up to see Discord in all of his...glory, she supposed. She let out an aggrieved sigh. She didn't hate Discord any but she sure as hay didn't trust him, and she didn't like his consistent ability to ignore good sense. And while she figured it was worse if she was busy and he was ruining some good work, it didn't make having to deal with this when she actually had some time off any easier. She knew in her heart of hearts that he wasn't a bad fella, but that didn't make him a good fella, and no matter what he was she could say with certainty that he was vexing beyond belief at times. She looked up at him and shook her head. "Discord! Whatcha'll doin' here this time of day? An' here Ah was relaxin' all quiet like."

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He never meant -- harm. Not anymore. After certain circumstances he came to realize that such festering emotions born of his own pride often caused more trouble than aided his popularity. Though it was not something he knew he needed: it had been the lack of lasting friendships that did to take their toll on him. As the days of plentiful company increased he sought to improve himself, little by little. He wanted to have friends and be seen as part of the group. 

 

But it terrified him. Friends had friends of their own and couldn't always spend time with you. He had to learn to share, to express his jealousy in a healthier manner. Being left out did oft to cause him to respond like a petulant foal, but wasn't he little more than a big foal? It couldn't be helped when he spent much of his lifetimes satisfying selfish desires and needing to gratify none but himself. It could be understood, were he to ever present his past experiences in some way, but he never did talk about himself. Not directly.

 

An outstretched hoof gave him chance to see the negative aspects of his personality. It allowed him to change a little by little. He still had a long way to go and rough edges to smooth out, sharpness to dull. But perhaps he would find that patience in these new pony companions. He wasn't evil. He was chaos after all. He was an enemy to order, but some ponies order was good and he was…

 

He thought himself a most clever snake, crawling in from above to snatch up the prizes hat, but the draconequus wasn't expecting the amount of freight he would cause the mare, making her jump so high! Of course it didn't help the distraction caused by her bump and his barely hanging on the string of magic he had to the branch forced it to snap and he came tumbling down from his branch. His horns speared into the ground. He had a surprised look on his muzzle: brows raised and eyes wide. With his paw and claw clutched to his chest he took her spook in for a moment. He pressed his paw and claw against the ground and corkscrewed himself out.

 

With his back to her he floated for a second, gathering his bearings. "Oh, well I was playing with the foals and decided to come and visit at a whim." That was … forthcoming. For him anyway.

 

Discord did sometimes just appear for a gas, but this was random, even for him. He was a clever fiend and often had plots, plans and predicaments cooked up to partake in. He landed on his hind legs and dusted himself off, flicking off the random debris. He seemed to just casually prepare himself to face the workpony only to take note of a very quiet farm. No trees being kicked to oblivion, no hammers knocking up new fences... What the hay? Wait. Applejack was napping. He wasn't the one being peculiar here!

 

His wings fluffed and he turned to look at her from over his shoulder. "Were you napping?" He spoke with the up most shock and horror. He zipped in front of her so they were muzzle to muzzle. "Are you feeling well?!" He would look to manifest a thermometer into her muzzle, making a reach for her forehoof to read her heartbeat. 

 

A pair of thick glasses appeared on over his eyes, a white doctor's smock over his body. He looked to his wrist where a sundial sat. Without the second hands carved in, it would do no good to read her vitals. He tapped the timekeeping device before looking to Applejack. Yes well it didn't look like he would be able to make a proper prognosis with his failing equipment for even the thermometer would have become floppy and useless.

 

"Well I am no doctor, but it seems you're suffering from chronic laziness." He scratched his beared nodding at his guess in a sagely manner. "A rare condition not usually found in Apples. But not to worry I have a cure!" He went on, not letting the pony a word in edgewise. 

He reached into his feathers and pulled out a pile of boardgames likely procured from Apple Bloom or one of the foals' ridiculous collection. He was suddenly sat atop the pile holding up a tennis racket, looking most athletic in his white sweatband and wristbands. 

 

"What do you say? It wouldn't look good you just sitting around." Though he seemed to utterly bypass her simple question as to the reason of his visit. He looked away his muzzle tucking in his claw as he ignored any strange looks, considering his tennis skirt clashed with his sun visor. "I didn't want to foalsit all day." While they trusted him enough to watch the foals, seeing as he kept them together, entertained and safe it wasn't much help needed in Ponyville.

 

So it was an easy task to give him.

 

He knew that. He wasn't … stupid.

 

"Besides isn't visiting a friend soooo much better?" Avoid responsibility and spend a day with a friend. "Though I was expecting you to be… working." So he was going to intrude on her working?
 

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It figured that on her day off he would pick her to come around, though she figured it was better than him attaching himself to her hip while she was working. At least now she was more capable of handling him, and there wasn't a whole orchard full of apples crying out for harvesting. Boy howdy, would that be an ill wind to have sweep through these trees. Not one of malice or hate, but the inability to get work done was simply...cruel, to Applejack as well as the apples. Why, she doubted he even knew what hard work was. She figured he was unable to process the thought that anypony would spend time putting their back into something for something other than immediate fulfillment. It wasn't his fault of course as he was a long lived creature of great power, who molded reality at a whim. It would be downright impossible for anycreature to have a proper sense of things with so skewed a view of life.

 

So she could understand why he was so funky, but that didn't mean she cracked much of a smile when he started doing his Discordy stuff. Thermometer in her mouth and he took her forehoof to, she guessed, feel her pulse. He started playing doctor, wondering at this new form of Applejack 'relaxing'. Taking it as the single most shocking event to ever happen he asked her if she was well, and decided to make a diagnosis of chronic laziness. Befuddling, but expected, misreading and misunderstanding with nary an idea of the perfect peace he had shattered with his boisterous bargering and badgering. She allowed him to finish (truth be told wasn't like she had a ton of options or choice in the matter) and then took th thermometer out, her half lidded eyes and precise demeanor telling him that he had barked up the wrong tree. Always felt like a funny saying but knowing him it could have been right often enough.

 

“Discord, Ah'm fine. Better than fine, actually. Ah have some time off this year! Got mah work done and did some fancy plannin' tah get mahself and mah family some free time for a bit. Y'all like yerself some free time, right?” She smiled, trying her best to be a bit friendly even if she wanted him off of her property. “Foals not yer style today? Ah thought if anypony could handle yer energy it'd be a bunch of little ones.”

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There were many aspects of the spirit that was difficult for ponies to understand. While he seemed unpredictable, maddening, he was merely the result of overproduction. He was the spirit of the artist who saw colors in sound. He was the nature of an anarchist who could no longer take the vicious cycle of work, sleep, work sleep beneath the hoof of a tyrant. He was the very nature of creativity, freedom, and fun. It was understandable that the constrained, the habitual, and the constant could not find will to stomach him. He introduced new perspective, new ideas, and most importantly: chaos.

 

It was quite a shock to see Applejack loafing about. No matter his influence, no matter suggestions of her relaxing, or taking a day off seemed to push through her stalwart denial of requiring rest! The spirit was well aware plants needed to grow for ponies to eat, they needed time and effort to grow. He has seen the same, sincere and diligent effort put into chores with Fluttershy, and despite Angel’s obnoxious timekeeping and dutiful scheduling, it could not change the spirit's tempting whispers to play and flirtatious regards to doing a task a bit differently. It was the nature of nature to try and change.

 

The spirit blinked out his toys and floated back to better observe the mare. The way he hovered was much unlike anything a pony could conceive. Though his wings had a habit of spreading outward, he did not flap them, simply disregarding the state of gravity with magic. He held his paw and claw tucked against his feathered chest, his hind legs rest as if on a hoofstool made of a cloud. His from prognosis for the mare was indeed due to the shock of her lack of working herself to the bone. Even when there was a stretch of time with no work, she would somehow find something to occupy herself with. At her remark he rolled his eyes and pressed his claw to his chin, paw supporting his elbow.

 

Well given that I was stuck in stone for a thousand years, it can put a fellow behind on work. So I just let things take its course until I can realign myself with the workforce.* He would cross his hind talon over his hoof's knee.

 

It was true the creativity and enthusiasm of foals was always a relief from the straining competence and inadequacy of adults. Their capacity, simple ability, to accept change and just have fun was enlightening. He had never experienced foals prior to this, the colts and fillies of the schoolyard were just different from their parents. They were willing to try something new without fear and, while they couldn't get some of his older gags, were still inclined to laugh themselves to stitches.

 

Oh foals are such a treat,” the predator would offer a fang-filled grin when using such questionable language. “But I don't need to influence foals. They already have plenty of fun without me. So I thought to myself: who could use playing a game most of all?” His expression seemed to indicate his question being deep and philosophical. But when his lips curled back into a Cheshire-like grin. “I mean if I'm to rejoin the workforce I need to do my job.” 

 

He twisted his body so he lowered himself to Applejack's height. While his rump remained somewhat afloat, that horse-like head of his was down and personal with the blonde pony. He had such a peculiar face, but his most striking features were his eyes. Maybe it was the fact he was a predatory figure that made ponies generally uneasy in his presence, or stories of his ancient temperament, and more recent tantrum, but those eyes held a most unnatural glow to them. Yellow sclera and ruby pupils, of which were different sizes, seemed to emit a soft reflection of light. His pupils did, also, have a habit of glowing when his temper flared.

 

And seeing as you've all have the responsibility of keeping me in check, making sure I do good with my powers~ who better than the Agent of Honesty to critique my efforts?” Ahhh, he could be manipulative still, when he wished.

 

But he wasn't wrong in the least. How ever was he to use his skills and techniques if they were improperly measured? They always say to get a second opinion. He awaited her response, now rest on his stomach in the air as if on a hammock of clouds, though if one looked that was exactly began to manifest beneath his belly: pink, fluffy clouds. Fully formed he settled his curled body, back arching as his red tail slung from the puffy edge. Playing with the apple bucking mare may also loosen her up. So tense.

 

Certainly a difficult task for Aloe and Lotus.

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Everything he did was so weird and unnatural. It was that more than any conscious decision he made that at times ostracized him from those around him. Applejack believed that rather simply harmonic magic and chaotic magic were just too different to ever mix. Didn't mean you couldn't be friends and get along. You could still care and love and treat one another well, but the small things he did just put her...off. And they always would. There was no magic elixir that could make that go away. When he popped things in and out of existence it was like he was summoning small little earthquakes that she felt only in some far off way that deeply troubled her. Twilight called it aetheral disturbances that any Equestrian could feel. Applejack called it just feeling funny. Discord's mannerisms themselves made Applejack feel funny, and not in a great way.

 

She almost hit a sore spot with the free time remark but he came back with a semi-threatening word choice about foals, which she took in stride. If he was a threat to foals then he'd have made it known by now. He just liked to put some extra sauce on some of his wors to get a reaction, which she denied him by listening to him all plain like. He made an interesting remark about needing her to critique his work which was funny all on its own. Discord seeking critique of any kind was a laugh worthy of chaos. You couldn't comment on a single thing he did without him being defensive! Still, she figured that it was certainly an interesting change of pace for him. No doubt he was full of more chicanery and silliness than Pinkie Pie hopped up on sugar, but at least he was telling her he was gonna be a nuisance before he went ahead and did so.

 

Not that she felt like she had a choice, but who knows. He could always surprise her! And some play never hurt, right? As long as he didn't get too nuts and ruin anything, he was a harmless sort. A troublemaker without compare, a threat without teeth- she was fine with that. Maybe once he was playing he could focus on something for more than a second and engage with her on matters of less drastically silly nonsense? She smiled and sighed, and gave a nice chuckle. "Well, Ah guess if y'all have to get your 'work' on, Ah could help. Maybe we'll see something you can work on, hehehe," she said with a laugh, wondering what hilarity he was going to get them into now. She was ready to relax. Ready to game. Hopefully nothing too crazy though. Sweet Celestia, not too crazy.

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The spirit's manners, down to his magic, were all quite outside of the sphere of what many would consider natural, seeing as all he did was contrary and meant to disrupt the illusion of control ponies had by dissuading order. Annoyance, anger, frustration, and even fear was the expected result of anypony's attempt to conduct reasoning in the face of madness. Order was the inherent enemy to a creature like him, fully designed to do what was both expected and unexpected of him. While his actions could be described simply, he was a complicated figure who could not even come to understand himself. His role among harmony was simple, yet the relationship was customarily one of conflict, a seemingly aberrant conjecture. And madness.. well madness could not be reasoned with for to it, it acted with such fantastical fanatical belief that what it did… 

 

…was right.

 

The slippery snake spoke with spell-words, their magic muted by reformation and diluted desire to cheat, but they were still the same binding dialogue he had used to infiltrate their spirit and tie them to his maze of ghoulish games when they had first met. They had no punch, beyond the partially intentional double-meanings. It was a shame the working mare rebuffed his efforts by remaining stalwart, but at least she was learning to play the game. It made it less boring when somepony played back. It made a game run more smoothly when one fought less. Accepting one's fate while, similarly denying it, creating a blooming dynamic that made him more inclined to be … merciful.

 

Oh and leave it to the Element of Honesty, the most hard-working of them all, to take up the challenge of being his playmate. With a snap of his claws her accepting words would be the binding agreement he needed. A flash of white smoke would be the last given sight the mare had for a moment. Stars forbid Twilight come nosing about declaring time outs. He was abiding by the annoyingly hindering program to… better himself. They should be lucky. He didn't have to follow their agreement.…

 

But he also had to.

 

Stubborn as he was there was still that inkling of guilt festering. Remorse, regret that he created such a problematic scar. While they forgave his err, and accepted him… he still felt the venomous nips of his disastrous folly which could have spelt doom for Equestria. Games shouldn't being about the end of a developing world, it should bring about change. In a way, it did foster new beginnings. He waved his paw, clearing the smoke. 

 

Applejack would more likely, than not, find herself wearing the heavy shoulder guards of a sports player with a matching white helmet and jersey. Black stripes would have been painted over her cheeks to prevent the glare of the summer sun from troubling them. She would be provided with a hockey stick. Opposite of her Discord stood in his own gear, colors opposing hers, and a stick. Between them sat a bouncy, blue ball.

 

"I decided instead of freezing over the farm again we could instead play the summer version of the sport." He motioned his glove covered paw to the barn. "That's my goal." He pointed back to the Crusader's Tree. "Yours."

 

But the distance between the two were absurd. Surely the rules --  "The rules are simple: get one goal. I'll even let you pick one handicap." He held out a bit. "Name it, once it hits the ground, and begin."

 

She could choose to mute any of his abilities, but this seemed way too simple a game. And if Applejack believed that, it was obvious that such was true. A good look at the blue ball, it had a glow if magic. Once the coin hit the ground the glow  of the ball would become faster and faster as time ticked by.

 

As if it were...
 

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For a brief moment in time Applejack was rendered blind, though it had occurred with her blinking so the strange darkness lasted but only long enough for her to question if it was true in any way. She was in summer hockey gear, same as him, different colors but the same otherwise. Well, that was unexpected. Applejack hadn't played summer hockey in what, ten summers? She'd just received her cutie mark. She wasn't the best at it, but she sure as heck could outcheck just about anyony in the world. Was that gonna be reflected in a game against such a strange creature? She wasn't sure. But she was also sure it wouldn't matter either way how he wanted to play this. Knowing him there'd be all manner of cheating and no goodness, but likely not meant to be cruel or mean. She could handle the silliness as long as it was fair. Did he even know fair?

 

She knew he had to at least be trying, but goshdarnit, he was just so oddly made that he couldn't really know what fair was. It was one thing when ponies were the target. As awful as it was, at least then they could be equally confused and starting off at the same page. With Discord playing the same game how could he help but cheat? Even snap uses of his abilities would give him all the conceivable advantages. She wasn't even a unicorn who could compete with her own spellcraft (a losing proposition if she ever heard one). Heck, she couldn't even fly! She would feel the full power of his absurd magic unless it was curbed. Once curbed, maybe they could have fun? Having fun with Discord- talk about a change of direction for her day. The absurdity of it all made her want to laugh. Well maybe not right now, it might sound insane.

 

Instead, she gave a determined smile. 
"Oh, field hockey? Hehehe, haven't played this in a while, but it should be mighty fun," she looked at him, "assumin' some...uhh, someCORD plays all fair like, seein' as Ah don't have any of yer magics ta counter with. Think you can play fair for me, Sugar?" She said, putting on extra twang for effect at the end as she looked at the field. She got into a stance, all ready to burst on out when the time came. "Just you, me, and a fair game of field hockey. That's mah wish."

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Discord rather fancied his jersey, though it was a bit bulky with the shoulder thingamabobs. He took a moment to admire himself, brushing his mane back, though it sproing'd back to shape with how stiff it was. What did he use in his mane? Or was it perhaps a result of magic? Wayward thoughts. He leaned back against his stick, lion's arm hooking over the curved length, the blunt end on the ground. He laid his foreclaw over his paw and looked to Applejack with a smirk. She seemed to be pondering, considering her choices. On the one hoof she could just refuse him. it was not as if he could make her play, not anymore anyway. He was a changed pony. On the other hoof there was no telling what mischief he may get into after being denied a perfectly innocent looking game. 

 

Though if one took the time they could easily count one hundred and one ways Discord could pervert filed hockey. 

 

...one hundred and two if one considered the penalty box.

 

He figured the mare would have played this at one point or another. It was Applejack. The thought made him roll an eye as he glanced away. His ears pricked forward when she finally spoke up. he had hoped she would go straight for his magic and really stick it to him. It was tempting, such a prospect. To be able to bind the spirit for entire game to get all the points you wanted and brag at your victory... Discord would certainly take advantage of the situation. It was not wrong to. If one freely offered to give you a systematic shot at victory, why not take it? No, leave it to Applejack to want to play fair. He was almost disappointed that she didn't take the bait. it was the perfect chance at revenge after he made them play such one-sided games. He turned his head away, those ruby painted eyes giving her a sidelong glance as he seemed to consider her request. His claw raised up to his beard. 

 

"Well, I suppose... though it does take out all the fun of it. No challenge." At least not for Applejack. He grinned at his tease before warping the stick into his paw as he stood straight. "Very well, but I still get to put obstacles." He snapped his claws littering the path between the two goals with barrels, crates and swinging swing tires stacked, hung, and arranged in all sorts of odd ways!

 

It was turning into quite the obstacle course of field hockey. Discord was not an athletic sort, so with him playing ... fair, the Earth Pony stood an advantage and he wasn't about to make it that easy. He had a reputation to keep as the Prince of Chaos. The coin touched ground and Discord raised his stick up over his head and swung with all his force! Of course, his paw eye coordination was as accurate as one might think a pony who was primarily a wizard. And whoosh! Not a bit of luck as he completely whiffed it, but due to his power swing the miss pulled momentum and off he went.

 

The spirit spun around and planted on the ground. "Whoops!"  He all but squeaked on the way down, and hardly on purpose either! "A bit -- uh huh -- rusty."

If the ball, at any point, was tapped too lightly the swinger may find themselves with a muzzle covered in paint that matches the current ball's color. 

 


-------------------------------


((D20s were rolled for dynamic random effect to determine his actions! Just a personal thing!))

 

First Swing; rolled 2
Catch self on Fall: 5
 

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  • 4 weeks later...

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She was shocked that he didn't make a stronger case for making this match more unfair seeing as that was his modus operandi, but Applejack wasn't about to tell him that. Truthfully she was just happy he was rolling with it. Somepony with a distinct eye for irony could make the case that she was being hypocritical for demanding he 'play fair' when her physicality gave her a pretty big advantage. But she'd counter that at least they could both run and slap the stick and play the game equally under the rules if not ability, and hey she had been taking a nap and he woke her up so he could play it her way.

Not that she didn't expect him to do what he do, littering the field with obstacles. He couldn't help it. She knew that. It didn't matter much to a rodeo pony like her. In fact it made it a bit more fun- a good workout where otherwise she coulda conceivably just slapped it across the orchard in a half-sec of action. And it wasn't as if Applejack was worried that Discord was doing this for some sort of advantage, it was simply his way of making the game more fun. She could respect at least that, his desire to make more entertainment.

Time to play. She gave him the first swing and as a result had to stop herself from laughing impolitely as he went spinning out, the poor fellow. He needed to work on his head-paw-claw-hoof coordination. Otherwise he'd have a rough time of it. Applejack quickly took control and winked at Discord with a wide smile, maneuvering the stick well enough for someone who wasn't an expert. She would tap it roughly and jump through an obstacle, more focused on trying to dodge the obstacles and move forward than any fancy stick work. She would tap it more than hit it, and every time she did she was unknowingly playing with fire.

Well, not fire, more like paint. She was playing with paint. She did not know she was playing with paint, or that hitting the ball a little too light would cause it to go off. She was making a subtle move over a tire and didn't need to hit it all that hard so she didn't- lightly tapping it as she approached the time to make a shot on goal. It was gonna be a good ol' score and Discord was in for a long day. At least that's what should have happened and would have happened in a just world!

Instead the ball seemingly exploded in paint, getting her muzzle with a rainbow collection of colors as she was making her way through a tire. It distracted her and sent her tumbling through and around the tire, ending in a painted mess on the ground with a groan of frustration. “Dangit, Ah shoulda known there'd be something silly about tha ball...” she muttered to herself, more out of base informational desire than frustration. Quickly, she got up and tried to untangle herself for a shot on goal- she was still close enough for it!

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Applejack seemed to catch a lucky break. It would seem Discord was going to let her win, but any who thought such things knew even less about the spirit than rumors proposed to know. Losing was perhaps one of the top, unfavorable outcomes in any game the spirit chose to partake in. It was precisely why he was so unreasonably persnickety about which games he played. If he could perceive no advantage or fun in it, his attempts to participate were about as high as Celestia participating in a Changeling feeding frenzy. Were cake not involved, she'd likely be absent.

 

"Foul! Purple card!" Oh blast what did those sportsponies call it?! "Slow your forward motion!" His hindlegs flailed in the air as he tried to windmill back into a satisfactory position.

 

The poor noodle had certainly made headway in becoming labeled noodliest athlete of the year. It was sometimes put into question if the chaotic prince has even any bone mass as he twisted and rolled about with little to no effort. One could likely tie him in a pretzel and he'd do to just complain of having no such requests and undo the knot as if it t'were no contest in doing so. If one were frank Discord's recreational disposition was, not in the least, related to sports. Magic had always been at the forefront of his abilities and without them he was a rather ordinary fellow.

 

As Applejack tizzied her way through the complicated obstacle course Discord managed to right himself. He had floated off the ground and vanished, landing back on his haunches. Relocating his stick the mage grabbed it and floated after the mare, landing down part of the way to amble unevenly through his own course. The poor joker would end up red faced by the time he caught up with Applejack, who was just freeing herself from the tire. If her rainbow painted muzzle was anything to go by she's gone and activated his trap card! The spirit took pause to pose, running his paw through his mane turning it blind with spikes, suddenly sporting a blue jacket and absurd looking medallion hanging from his neck. 

 

"I guess you can just admit it's in the heart--" but his speech was disrupted when he weaved back, a new ball falling into play "what the--!?" Discord tried to out swing Applejack, but he was but a moment too slow and she would be able to outmaneuver him. 

 

He tried to pounce the ball, which was a lovely cerulean blue this time, but he fell short. She stumbled over his own stick and slid across the grass, rump in the air once again. He was starting to feel that gravity held no part in this game. He had a flat expression, annoyed by his own absurd inability to keep upright. Perhaps, in some cosmic way, the universe was forcing Discord to keep his word and not use magic… either way he would, at least, attempt to block her swing for the goal as he fumbled by, his tail tuft having grabbed his stick and made for the swing and block.

 

But could he do it?!

 

It was a bit silly. The spirit had every reason to chest and break his bow to play the game undisrupted by his heinous twisting of natural law, but seeing as chaos was part of natural law… well complications aside he did seem to do his earnest to keep his word, never floating himself more than a few feet, as for him levitating was as ordinary as walking. He could have managed well over a hundred unique ways of ruining Applejack's run with the ball, but he did a and set a due course to stop her physically. But heck! To think spots involved so many intricate uses of muscles he was sure he did not have!

 

He really was doing his best. He still managed to play the role of a chaotic being, shifting the mundane and ordinary: forcing a pony to think outside the tiny box they all seemed to have sealed themselves in as they reached adulthood. He also just sought to have a good time with his friends. Even if he was that obnoxious friend that woke you up from a nap.
 

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Applejack managed to free herself from the tire but it had done its job. She could feel his presence even as she went to swing- not that she needed to rely entirely on that since he was making a racket about fouls and forward movement, all of which was a nice little hoot. It was kinda good to hear him abit flustered and frustrated, actually. Not that she didn't want him to have fun, but everypony else was so flummoxed by what he did almost all the time and so off their hoofing because of him that it honestly felt like a little bit of justice to see him all flustered. Still, she was sure he'd find a way to be rolling abut and having fun before long. HE always found a way, which was the admirable part about him.

 

Still, she wanted to win. She fired her shot and watched it go, but her stick was interfered with. Discord's noodly noodleness gave him enough flexibility to interfere with her. The shot went wide, just barely, banging off of the side of the goal with a loud metallic bang. She silently cursed to herself- "Ponyfeathers"- and watched it cascade off deeper into the weird playing field. It was gonna be journey to get that one back. Darn, and here she had such a clear line to it just a moment ago. Dang obstacle. If she hadn't been caught up then she'd be up 1-0. Instead nope. Oh well. She doubted that Discord was gonna score any today. She'd have plenty of time to put a nail in the coffin in his chances of victory. Viva la Ponykind and all that jazz.

 

Then a new ball came into play. Okay that changed things. If there were multiple balls flying about that meant she couldn't just focus on one. More importantly, it means there was likely to be even more balls in play soon. Scoring was eventually gonna come fierce and quick and it was gonna hold no relation to any game she was aware of.  That was bound to happen. He was chaos incarnate, she was shocked he was this reserved! And he himself was giving it an honest go of it, as somewhat sad as it could be. The environment and game may be crazy but he was being as good as he could be. Points for effort! He failed to get a good swing at the ball. Untangled as she was from the obstacle she managed to get her stick into position and get the ball in her control. She stepped back and got herself on even hoofing, squaring off against Discord.

 

"Let's dance, Sugarc- what in tarnation?" She said, her voice infinitely deeper ad more masculine than ever before. The rainbow on her muzzle shimmer and sang along with it. "Well, Ah guess that's tha least of what it coulda been...anyway..." she shook her head, eyes glaring super intensely. "Here Ah go!" she bellowed, ready to charge around and if needed through Disord, on her way to a clearer, easier shot on goal.

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Discord wasn't much of a sportspony. What need had a god of chaos of the skills required of the local sports? He had other ways of gathering a mare's, maybe stallion's, attentions outside of a burly statehood of athleticism. It wasn't as if he wasn't a tad curious, though. In truth they had always been interesting, but he was often turned away by the stereotypical presence of jocks and other large bodied individuals who seemed more war horse than pony. It could be, to be quite frank, disgusting. The odds on these venues were oft unfair. Local titans versus visiting street rats, or vice versa. Even in ages passed it always seemed to be the biggest, toughest set of athletes against the mediocre menagerie managed by misfits. It never did well to give a sporting team an unenthusiastic caretaker as they were bottom of the barrel, scraped up in an attempt to save face during a showdown of an ancient duel whose reasons have long since been lost!

 

"Urgh." He groaned under the weight of the feather and gold crown  that suddenly appeared atop his head, covering his vision whilst his noodly body lumped over like a discarded sausage. "The stars aren't in alignment today. Can't do it." He pushed the crown up, only for an armadillo to roll passed the field, leaving the spirit to quirk a brow. "Stars…not today." He felt as if he was run over by a stampede of minotaur.

 

All and all sports were a turn off. 

 

Perhaps it was the reason he played games like this: where everything was made up and the points didn't matter! The set game always seemed outrageous, but it was not as if he was breaking the set rules: simply adding them and affixing new obstacles as things went along. Chaos was ever-changing. Games were designed to be a break, a payoff for suffering the long tedious chores that work always seemed to be inundated with. Sometimes they were no fault of his as the spells went on and off their own path at times! He only set the cogs in motion. Everything else was a result of the player. While a simple game of field hockey would have been fun in and of itself, it quickly became a strain trying to find reason to continue it beyond a few rounds. When a game was more interesting it was harder to forget. 

 

Memorable.

 

Once again the pause in play due to the obstacles, and in Discord's case: himself, ceased as Applejack did well to charge once the shock of her magical penalty for tapping the ball had become passe. With all the grace of a fish on land the chaotic spirit tried to untangle himself from himself only to finally vanish in a burst of instinct to avoid the charging mare. He landed on his hindlimbs, stick in paw, and fur floofed and frazzled from fighting fright fashioned from her fierce, forward charge. She was going to tackle him! He hadn't even a chance to have a giggle at her alternative singing voice, courtesy of the magical dust, before he was nearly squashed flat! 

 

Each ball set into play would have a unique temperament, dictated by the color of dust loaded into them. Their penalty marker determined the games outcome as much as skill. The distracting voice change would have given a chance to steal the ball, but Discord was, quote frankly, head over hooves with himself!

 

Ball tapping, showboating, fancy passing, and all other manner of inane dues that would keep any pony on their toes. Even Discord would be unable to predict what fine he would have to pay for taking command of the balls in play. After catching his senses he would arch up and hobble after the mare! As he sprinted best he could on two legs leaving the spirit would recall his own words. He seemed to fight the game: tempt to quit as he was irked at his currently agreement to remain powerless, a fool under the weight of gravity and his own promise not to … use his magic to counter the ball… and he was sure she would be displeased of he overrode that with a technicality. 

 

As Applejack went for the ball in play Discord dove at her, aiming to sliiiide across the grass and toss his stick to attempt and block her victory play. After all she only needed to score one point, and he wasn't going to let the game end so soon. If the action turned out as he hoped the ball would bounce back into the forest of obstacles to meet the other ball in play. But … if they touched, what would happen?

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Applejack wasn't shocked much when Discord got out of her charge. It was the smart thing to do, even if it was more standard for players to stand their ground and try to elicit a foul from overseeing refs. Of course there were no refs, and there were seemingly no rules. Obstacles in every which direction, multiple balls, nets that weren't nets and traps meant to obscure the goal. Applejack loved sports- physical competition with even and fair rules that anypony could play. And when you had the best of the best facing off in pro leagues, it was almost transcendent- too bad she didn't have the skills, or else she would at least do some semi-pro stuff. This game was mostly a travesty in the world of sports but it was Discord's 'bonding exercise', so she'd grin and bear it.

 

Funky voice and all.

 

Speaking of, he tried his darnedest to try and get in her way. He was at least trying, silly get-up and all, and she thanked him for that. Hopefully he'd be just as excited to play and lose than he would be to do his usual tricks and win. She weaved past an obstacle and now had a straight path to the net, closer than ever, a ball under her control. The first one had been an annoying change but as long as it kept to aesthetic, non-function changing 'punishments', she'd roll with it. Speaking of rolling, she went to roll out of the way of his new plan to stop her but found that one of her hooves landed in some sort of quicksand trap and left her a second delayed. The result was that his stick careened into hers and sent the ball skidding away. "Oh, fiddlesticks," she muttered darkly to herself as she watched the ball start to collide with the others.

 

It shouldn't have been a surprise what happened next. Instead of slowing down, the balls started to move faster and faster. Some of them reached the terminal speed needed to activate their traps. Explosions of color, sound, and fury ignited on that side of the field. Strange shapes and signs glittered in a sky that was awash with blotches of various paint schemes. It looked like a abstract painting gone haywire. Applejack was only happy that she wasn't in the center of it and thus wasn't bearing the brunt of whatever chicanery he had cooked up. She remarked with a breathless laugh, "well, looks like we won't be playin' this game much longer, Sugarcube. Tell me, what was in-" she asked, turning her head to Discord to ask the question. It proved an excellent time for an unexploded ball to come shooting out of the mess.

 

It smacked into her head, sending her end over end comically (it seemed as if physics held little sway at the moment) until she landed on Discord. The ball hit with such force that it was itself launched through the sky and towards the goal. It bounced off of two obstacles and then lazily rolled in. A second later it exploded into confetti with a sign saying, "Congratulations!" shooting out of it. Applejack was only dimly aware of it all. She raised her head and asked woozily, "Did Ah wiiiiin?"

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Discord was not as physically inclined as his pony compatriots. To be barreled over by an earth pony, of all creatures, was not something he could accept for his immediate future. He liked his face shapely and unplodded upon. His escape was quick, so much so he sent himself for a spin, ending up upside-down for a moment. Righting himself he shook his head: settling the marbles rattling between his ears. Canting his head that heavy lion's paw would lightly smack against his ear. It was not a moment after, from it, two cat’s eyes marble spilled onto the ground. The marbles spun, clicked together and rolled until they were side by side. A stillness fell over them with accompanying silence until, finally, they shifted so that the marbles’ traditional, cat-like eye slits blinked before they formed into his ruby orbs and yellow sclera. Fully forming into his skull the spirit's fluffy, creasing brows shaped out around the free floating spheres. He pushed to stand, his chin having been dragging on the ground. Dusting the debris from his beard he would spot that Applejack was about to score! The spirit dove for the ball to try and sliiide across the way, but --

 

The farmpony got caught in one of the arbitrary traps. There was no rhyme or reason why some of these things triggered, or didn’t. It was an honest luck of the draw. Regardless of just whose luck activated it, Discord hadn’t anticipated the sudden short stop form the mare and cut short, his stick tapping into hers with a click of wood. The ball got away, the spirit’s face hitting the quicksand like a piece of toast landing butter first. The slick thwack of his mug colliding with the sand sounded almost painful. He struggled, the sand trying to suck away his skull, before finally popping it out: the granules formed atop his head like a small volcano.

 

“Hey!” The volcano’s top erupted weakly with a pomf of smoke as the spirit’s eyes followed the ball ricocheted off.

 

One ball careened into another which caused it to hit yet another until it became a ringing arcade of madness. Whenever the other balls collided it either created another ball into play. Some erupted into fantastic colors that filled the sky and stained the grass with the chalky substance, as well as any passing fur. Some ruptured into sprays of confetti and a rancor of bells and whistles. Discord tried following the madness, but even he lost track of where the original ball was. He put his foreclaw and paw on the edge of the sandtrap to anchor himself, his hind talon taking control of his stick. His long, red tail reached around Applejack’s torso to attempt and pop her from the trap so he could set her on solid ground. Sitting back on his haunches he brushed the sandy volcano from his crown and looked to Applejack who didn’t seem confident of the game’s continued play. Before she could finish her sentence or he could protest her concern the ball slammed into Applejack and would proceed to zip past his face like a bullet causing him to become lock still, feathers molting a bit at the surprising outcome. It clipped his muzzle, but he was alright

 

“Honestly!” He barked. “It’s like nopony obeys air traffic laws anymore!” He squirreled out as his head turned towards the shot, his jaw falling slack when the ball rolled against the grass and into the goal to reveal it had been the target ball. With the congratulatory confetti and all... “Of all the…” Discord’s stick slid from his hind grasp, eyes blinked in disbelief. “Gack!” He squawked out when the earth mare collapsed on him from the facial impact!

 

Untangling himself from the mare and righting himself, at least as much as a chaotic mash of limbs could, Discord floated off the ground and snaked towards his ball. Plucking it from.off the grass with his paw, claw tucked against his chest, the chaotic spirit inspected the ball only for it to explode in his face with a green powder that turned his face greener than a tree’s mossy backside. When the dust settled he let out a light cough. His snout ended up inhaling the magic plume causing him to sharply inhale before his head whipped out with a frantic sneeze. A stream of glitter escaped his snout and muzzle as he launched backwards onto his rump.

 

Smacking his lips and curling up his lip in disgust the spirit would clear his throat. “It seems you have. And with only one penalty.” He was disappointed. “Oh very well. Take your prize.” Wait, there was a prize involved other than the grace and smug pride one gained outsmarting the spirit of chaos?

 

He say himself down on the ground and reached into his feathers. From it he plucked a single appleseed. He held it out to her. All in all it looked like an ordinary appleseed, but with Discord there was never any telling just what ordinary looking things did. He smirked and leaned back. “I will admit your victory, was many strokes of luck. But -- it was fun to see, and hear you, succumb to the frantic scramble and manage to keep your wits about you. I suppose that is what they like about you, AJ -- your level headedness.” He looked to his claws. “But even you have to break from that sobriety occasionally.” It did a pony good. “Well that was fun. Perhaps we can do it again. I’ll even let you choose the game.” How generous.

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  • 3 weeks later...

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Trying to get a handle on Discord was easy enough in the best of times, harder when your brain was on the fritz. He looked like a volcano to her for a moment there, or maybe he was, it was hard to remember too much before one of the balls smacked into her noggin. He was this twisting pile of- well, chaos, masquerading as life when he was far more of an idea or concept. It was really very difficult to play games with abstract things when teh games were physical and the concepts borderline weren't, but she had done so and all seemed well. Kinda mostly. He at least got a game in which is what he wanted to do, play, even if he masqueraded it as wanting her to loosen up. Maybe it was the same thing. She felt plenty loose. 

 

Loose in the head, maybe. Did he sneeze glitter? She started to snicker and then giggle and then laugh a full belly laugh, hooves on stomach, at the image. He looked like one of them party cannons Pinkie Pie had. When did she get them first? After Discord. Did he create party cannons? Did he know he created party cannons? Did Pinkie know Discord created party cannons? Did Pinkie buy it from Discord? Did Discord lend it? Were they friends? How long were they friends? Were they friends since they first met? Maybe before? How old was Pinkie? Was Pinkie Discord? That made sense. Did it make sense? Was he still a volcano? Were all volcanoes Discord? Inquiring minds wanted to know as did Applejack's addled one.

 

he pulled out what looked like an apple seed, though she didn't see it very well from the ground. She stood woozily up, giving it the good ol' Appleeye. The Appleeye was a special talent she invented right there in her broken head, where an nice old looksie from the right eyes, especially the right eye, told her plenty. And that plenty was that it was indeedlio an apple seed, yep, yep, all day every day and twice on Saturdays an apple seed. She nodded and mumbled out some words. "Well looks right there yep thats an appleseed, heeheheeheheheheheheheeee," she trailed off, shaking her head. "Ah'm gonna plant it right on theeere!" she pointed at a tree, a tree that was healthy and full of life and not at all suitable for being replaced.

 

"Ah relax plenty see Ah played this game with you, didn't Ah, an' Ah was nappin, didn't wasn't Ah?" She asked, her words heavy with a failing accent being overtaken by a bit of slurring. He wanted to play games? "Games well games what are games we play hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...are you a volcano?"

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One had to wonder what else Discord kept in that coat of his, or if he kept anything at all. His magic worked in strange and mysterious ways. It was a wonder that classes didn't study his bizarre tendencies nor did students of magic prepare thesis on the applications of such mystical prowesses could be used. While his spells seemed a simple case of overly complicated prestidigitation, there was always that feeling of confusion when he crafted an object, seemingly, of nothing. The spell words he wove when speaking with that forked, silver tongue had a bigger part in his merrymaking than just a good verbal gag. The visual aspects of his responses seemed to do more than punctuate his conversation and more respond to it. Poignant as it was to be unable infer logic onto the spirit's manners sometimes it was best to just let these sorts of things go.

 

A complicated event, all and all, but with some fascinating recourse on Applejack's part. Instead of trying to stop it or otherwise alter his plans: she did, indeed, seek to work the game into a reasonable and playable course. She had to think and act on her hooves, while staying flexible to the madness that naturally came with the spirit's shenanigans. A bit of flexibility in new and confusing situation allowed a pony to act in the face of danger, plan or no. Adaptation was a keynote to survival. Though it seems AJ bonked her head rather hard. Pulling a handkerchief from the sleeve of his paw's fur he would dab the glitter from his muzzle.

 

"Your  skills of observation are without rival my dear." He declared as she fumbled about.

 

He blinked his dual-colored eyes and let out a light chuckle. She was out of it wasn't she? Well that only made it easier for him than. Oh as he said it was indeed an apple seed. He didn't easily give away his Plunder Seeds as they were with a more special and specific purpose. Nothing to give to friends. Much too dangerous. This was a good chance to plant himself a very special breed of tree.

 

"Well you do that dear," when she mumbled, almost drunkenly, on where she was to plant it. "That is a promise. This is a special apple seed, you see. So make that promise to me." But it seemed his fortune has seen head trauma. 

 

Vanishing he reappeared sitting just behind her. He thought on his opportunity to turn this into a victory. Setting his cheek to rest against his paw's digits the spirit smirked. Oh how he could twist this moment of weakness and use his spellwords. Just the smallest hint of power... The tempting thought caused his eyes to glow, ears folding back. They began to take that faint glow of greens and blues as his spellwords began to form.

 

…alas, he was reformed.

 

Dismissing the magic he snapped his claws, manifesting a bucket of ice water over her head. Twirling his griffon's digit the wooden pail would spin and dump it's contents in attempt to restart the apple picking pony. Were she to snap out of it the draconequus would chuckle bemusedly. He held out his paw, holding the seed.

 

"I appreciate the game Applejack. It was quite an eye opener. This is your prize. It will grow a very special apple tree. Nothing like you've ever seen." He assured, floating just off the ground.

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Her skills of observation sure were the bees knees. Did bees have knees? She'd never seen them kneel. And she had such amazing skills of observation she should have seen them and their knees and such. Maybe they didn't, but that'd be an awfully silly phrase to say then! Maybe it was because it rhymed. Maybe Zecora knew. She knew a lot about a lot of stuff, and this was rhyming. Probably right up her alley. Did they have cities with alleys in Unyasi? She didn't mean to be rude, of course, but she didn't know if Unyasi had cities that would have alleys. All that land and not a lot of zebras to live on it made her think alleys would be rare. Like Discord said, she had very keen skills in terms of observation! She was the most observant pony one could ever meet.

 

As she pondered the greatness of alleys and zebras, she looked happily, blankly, and slowly blinking at Discord as he spoke. She tracked him with head movements matched up bit by bit, her smile never fading. When he was all done, she waited a few moments. Silence. It was all so very nice. Then she realized that he was done talking and it was time for her to talk, as was the custom of the times. "Yes," she said plainly. To what, one did not know. But she instinctively took the special apple seed and put it in her saddlebag next to the other seeds. "Ah'm gonna plant her somethin' strong an' fierce an' just you washyerself mister, she's gonna grow tall an' strong and oh-so-alluringingy," she stuttered to an end.

 

Then she slapped him on the arm. "It was fun, Dissypoo, even with all that zany. Zany. Zany!" she said. Then she looked concerned. Then she grew pale and turned to the left, barfing on the ground. She then held her head in her hooves. "Ah don't feel so goooooood."

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  • 2 weeks later...

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The spirit had no idea what went on in her head, or that her head was as rattled as it was! He didn’t think the power strike had done her in as well as it did, having evaded part of it himself, but that was the risks of playing without safety equipment. They had no gear save for the shirts and sticks! Perhaps a lesson well learned for them following such a twist stepping game, well for Applejack who was likely seeing twittering birds over her head at this point. The glitter-smeared spirit rubbed his face with his paw and tried to wipe the disastrous mess  of multicolored paper bits from his features. He only did to rub the glimmering spray across his muzzle to where it was now creased between his white, fuzzy brows. He was a bit of a mess after the rumble as well: his mane frizzled and coat frazzled. Manifesting a comb the charming snake brushed down his chest floof and slicked back that mane to its better known hardness. With a sproink the black mane was coifed back to perfection and he floated off the ground since the game was over and rules were not defunct. He flexed his wings and looked down to the mare as she began to ramble. He chuckled.

 

Ponting his claw at her he grinned. “You do that, but Applejack are you … alri--off!” His eyes widened when he was smacked on his arm, sent forward a bit by the surprise.

 

The draconequus sneered and reached up to rub his griffon’s arm with his paw, pouting at the overly strengthened mare. Honestly. Such a brut. Dissy-poo? She was not alright was she? His ears swiveled forward as he got the most delicious taste in his muzzle. But how bittersweet it was! To  be reformed and have the perfect opportunity with the bearer of honesty! He could have snatched her will away, his spellwords at the tip of his muzzle. But as he thought about how they helped him and the disappointment Fluttershy would pose over him… as well as his own endeavors made -- to show weakness at such a time was pride shattering. ANd, for all intents and purposes, the draconequus was a grand egotist and a beast of pride. He deflated a bit, lowering some as he sighed.

 

He frowned lightly as the feeling nearly overwhelmed his goodness levels! “How cruel Applejack…” Giving him such an opportunity he could not make use of! She was vulnerable enough taking a nap, but they wouldn’t  be able to play all day as she always seemed drowned in chores. Chores? “Don’t you have chores or something?” He waved his paw to shoo her, that hit doing more to sore his arm than he would admit.

 

And that was when it hit him.

 

What if they blamed him? What if they said he did this on purpose? To find Applejack in such a state well whoever could implement such a state but he? As proud as he was for the implications he would have to take …. Responsibility for his actions. Ugh! How disgracing. To think a god like him having to fix his mistakes. Than she barfed. His ears folded back as he made a grimace as he turned away, a bucket manifesting under her muzzle to catch all it could. A hazardous material sticker would be smacked onto the pail before it floated into a ziploc bag and thrown into a furnace that appeared setting ablaze the waste. Holding out a handkerchief he offered it to the mare and moved to adjust her hat.

 

“Look how about this I help you with your chores until you can put your head on straight and we’ll never talk about this again?” Chores, pah, him? Though… he’s never worked at a farm before.

 

It was an interesting prospect! THe male grinned and would flash out. In a puff of smoke the spirit would now be standing in front of applejack in a paof of cowpony boots, a loose hanging belt holding up his fur chaps and a brown vest with white shirt to match his stetson hat. His paw digits brushed over the brim as he adjusted it over his horns. He could be a cowpoke, he even had a hot poker just in case! Snapping his suspenders that held up his attire the spirit pursed his lips to make a straw of hay appear to finalize the look.

 

“What do you think? I bet I can do your chores a lot better than you.” And with magic? Easy as making peanut butter cookies! But what did APplejack even do normally? Discord had his own small set of chores he did daily, but in his own chaotic way. Could the farm survive Discord’s appleoza?

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It didn't take much to make this fella go all out on costumes. Applejack wasn't sure why everypony or draconthingy thought they needed to get all spiffed up to work on her farm. She wore a hat. Sometimes not even that. But here he was, looking all silly like in his cowcolt getup. Not that she minded all that much. Better somepony occupy that space between naked and fancy than they occupy fancy alone. She never did understand them fancy getups when ponies did just fine all naked-like, unless it was a special occasion and all. Then she understood it. But for now she was content with his silly, noodle-like self. But she still needed to make sure she planted this here fancy seed before it grew up on her nose and sprouted weird apples on her. Not that she'd really complain about that, seemed like a dandy idea to her.

 

"Sure, sugaaaaaarcube, you can come an' help out. Y'all got some spiffy duds on, don'tcha? Hahahahahahaha," she laughed a little too long, her eyes still waving in and out. There were many things to do. What did she do. Did she dance? She danced once before, she thought. Thinks. Thought-thinks, time was a little wonky tonky. Okay, so- the orchards/ Bucking. She bucked trees sometimes. She was going to buck a tree. She didn't feel so good. She was going to buck a tree. She walked up to a tree. This tree was not a tree. It was a bucket. She used buckets to pick up apples. She put the bucket in her mouth. She walked up to a tree. This tree was a tree. She took a deep breath and threw up on the ground next to her. Then she assumed the bucking position, her muscle memory and experience driving her. Maybe if she was a less capable mare this would be going significantly worse. Luckily for all involved, namely her, there was nopony in the world more capable of doing this work when concussed and in need of hospitalization than Applejack.

 

But she had to help Discord to do his part, since he was being so kind in helping her out. Normally she would be in charge of this herself or could rely on some decent help from family, but this newbie would have to be shown the ropes. Well not ropes. Not now. Ropes for later, if he wasn't too bad a draconthingy. "Oksh yooo yake tha booket..." she took a breath, "tha booket," another, "booket," another, "take tha bucket an' stand insha there, right?" she asked nopony in particular. Then she remembered she had a seed. She put the seed down in front of her. She would plan him soon. "tha apples...catch 'em," she said, then reared up and delivered a mighty buck to the tree. Despite her wobbly and foolish nature when it came time for this she had locked into place well and executed her powerful kick well; apples were sure to fall.

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Discord wouldn't be Discord if he didn't do a bit of cosplay. While ponies did do just fine naked and free there were the complications associated with communication. Speech, while illuminating in it's use of exchanging ideas, it became dull and dreary when ponies and their ilk began to repeat themselves and had no imagination in their use of adverbs and adjectives! It was really a trite and one dimensional means of correspondence. Now theater! Oh yes that was something the draconequus could get behind! Words, colors, shapes, and movement all molded together to form sense from madness. There was a little place in his heart for the stage and all of its superstitions and inane traditions. But as he reveled in dawning his little outfit it was becoming more and more apparent that Applejack was a bit more poo-brained than had originally considered.

 

“Well thank you for noticing Applejack.” He bowed his head forward while his paw tipped his hat and his claw reached out to complete the mock, bowing motion. “No one ever seems to notice when I get all dressed up!” And that was a shame. After all he went through the theatrics for the ponies’ sake. “I was starting to think you all lacked the sense to even see them.” Though what was meant by that?

 

He folded his ears back as his lips slowly curled, causing his time worn expression to twist into pity. Those fluffy, white brows twisted up in distinct show of concerned. Truly the mare had his condolences. She could handle a good roughing up, however ponies said that, but their previous physical activities left the mare a few marbles short of a bread basket and it began to concern the wizard of madness. He was strong considering putting her to bed, but she was still on her own four hooves, so it was good enough for him! He hoped… because her second expulsion of her stomach’s contents caused him to not only wince and lean back, but to avidly question her well being which was quickly forming a feeling of concern he tried to avoid.

 

Concern is the path to camaraderie. Concern leads to caring. Caring leads to helping. Helping leads to harmony... Helping just -- wasn't a word he liked to solidify as part of his vocabulary. It would promote the idea that he was a good guy!

 

And while he was...it was embarrassing. He did like to see a healthy dose of hesitation in ponies and be able to roll out his games were not everypony was open to the idea that he would be totally fair.

 

Nothing in life was fair and while he tried to give them chances it was, overall, the rules and how one played the game that was the deciding factor in the end result.

 

As she stumbled about her lesson the draconequus dispelled his outfit and lowered to the ground. Hoof and talon dug against the soft dirt as he settled his full weight. Due to his body's length he ended up hunched over slightly, his wings raised to allow him a sense of counterbalance, even if it was unnecessary thanks to his natural defiance of gravity as a whole. His paw and claw wouldn't against his stomach as he watched the Apple toddle about as if she were just rolled down a hill. Discord was becoming only a little more worried. But, what could he do? He was no healer. Stars forbid he ever had the time nor reasoning to ever learn healing magic or the strange spells required to check on such things. He was an all-knowing god! All he needed to do was look into your eyes and have the victim give him all the information he desired.

 

He sighed and watched the mare struggle to even aim at the tree. He looked at the seed when she put it down only for her to take aim and, finally, buck the heck out of the tree. Though it seemed some apples weren’t going to hit their mare if she wasn’t careful. Discord set his paw between his haunches and snapped his claws, catching the fruit before they hit the ground  and bruised. Following that he would pile the ones that missed their target: into the bucket. “I am not sure that is the most efficient way to collect apples…” WHile unique and a bit chaotic… it was considering he was a magician and would rather cast magic than work…. He released the spell that gripped the apples and settled down at all fours to meet the physical requirement of using one’s back hooves (in his case hoof and talon. “Besides how hard can it be?” She already knocked most of the apples from their branches. It wasn't rocket science. Believe him, you… he’s done rocket science and it is no fun. “Easy as baking cookies!” Which was when you had magi on your side to manifest ingredients in a literal snap!

 

The spirit padded around and had his rump facing the tree trunk. He curled up his tail to allow his view and aim to remain clear. The last thing he wanted was to stamp on his own rump! He seemed odd on all fours, as he was rarely ever on their level, but standing this way it was obvious he wasn’t that much bigger than ponies, just rather long bodied and heavy-set with a tube for a body. Aside from a somewhat long neck he was, at shoulder width, about the same standing as Applejack herself, making him a width taller than Rainbow Dash. Watching her and listening to her slurred speech he deduced all it had to fall in the bucket. Easy with magic! Easier without. He was a string of pride after all! He wasn’t going to be out done by a punch-drunk farm pony. He wiggled his bottom in the air and made sure to focus his target in view. With a quick swipe he turned and kicked to buck that tree!

 

Surprisingly enough, to him especially, he hit his target! The apples danced on their branches, loosing. After a moment they fell. Nearly all the rest that remained on the tree landed in the bucket! “I did it!” That was a surprising development not even the spirit could have predicted!

 

He wasn’t very strong and could be sure as heck he had no idea how to properly buck a tree! He was a house wizard after all! And with only one hoof! He looked to the bucket, hoping none of her puke had fallen in before he sat back on his haunches and picked up an apple. He had this farming business down packed! It wasp pretty easy. “And you say farming is hard. I mean planting a seed can’t be much more difficult than planting twenty!” Though he wouldn’t know the first thing about planting seeds though -- would he? Or the second.

 

That seed was quite nice, for something Discord had. It looked to have a thick, outer shell so not something squirrels or raccoons could bust into.

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Applejack wasn't fully aware of how Discord was helping her stay up. He slithered and moved in ways she'd have trouble understanding even when she was mentally aware of the possibilities inherent in his wacky form. Now, however, she was a basketcase of indescribable incapability of understanding him. She had hard time understanding even herself. She was just happy she had hit the tree. It wasn't an effort of good effort effort effort. Wait. Effort- she shook her head. She needed to refocus on something. Was something wrong? She felt- the imp- her effort had been good! And that had achieved good results. Process makes perfect. That's what her ma-pa said, yeppers. It wasn't long before his king mighty slithering the first, Discord, took his turn at the proverbial plate of Equestrian farming and did his bucking thing.

 

He wasn't half bad. He wasn't half good, either. He felt good abut it though, judging by his post-buck boasts. Buck boasts. Buck boasts! BUCK BOASTS.
Not horrible either way. He got a few apples off of the tree, good for him. If she had a participation award ribbon to hoof on out to him, she would. She did not now though. That was a disappointment, since ribbons were always good. "Not bad for a first timer, sugarcube. Why, Ah this reminds me of mah first real buck when Ah was just a little filly!" she said, scratching the elder god's underchin for good measure. "Yer gonna be a real famer someday, Ah bet," she said, giggling. Of course he said some awfully ignorant things too, so she had to make sure to put him in his place.

 

"It aint 'bout jush buckin' an' tha whole...lotta...lotta...lotta...physical LABOR...that goes into this. We gotta worry 'bout crop rotations, harvest appropriation, yield capacity, top soil health, animal health, storage and distribution...logistics...negotiatin'...harvest schedulin'...an' all of that is jus' on top of good ol' fashion Earth pony magic. You can'..try an'...replicate a buncha things, you silly draconthingy, but you sure as the sun can't replicate that," she said as a friendly jab, though in her concussed state it was hard trying to imagine what she was actually saying. Or if it was even intelligible.

She moved up and bucked twice more, two trees nearly depleted of trees and allowing Discord to follow up. When this was done, she approached the chicken coop. "So, howdja dodja chickens likes????"

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He had never bucked a day in his life and he's lived plenty of days to give it a go! The draconequus wasn't what you call one who observed many forms of physical activity, if his game of field hockey was any indication, but the spirit found that he has managed to do so with a lack of concerted effort. He hung out with stars, down to earth celebrities, and oodles upon oodles of poohka and ponies yet he has never spent many a days with Applejack, let alone on the farm! He was keen on teasing her. It had been on his bucket list and it was quite a long list. As it were the apple bucking mare has done bonked her own noggin with enough force to send her for a loop and tail flip. The least Discord could do was offer a hoof. And paw. And talon. And claw.

 

Despite what part he was pandering for the profit of a chortle the spirit had fully satisfied the requirements for the tree to release it fruity treasure. As it rained apples the chimeric menace manifested an umbrella and bounced any wayward ripe, globes of sweetness into it's pail. He sucked his snaggletooth and arched a brow.

 

“Tut, tut. It looks like rain. And before supper!” He closed his umbrella and laughed. “Silly old mare, you were a filly?” He chides teasingly. “And here I thought you were always a grumpy old farmer!”

 

Regardless of his teasing tone he has taken the praise.in full. Now sporting overalls and a flannel shirt the spirit held a stereotypical bit of straw in his muzzle as he gripped the straps running over his shoulders. A pair of cowpony boots to seal the deal and he was quite a charming cowpoke, for a troublemaking serpent of the ages. He chewed up the straw and with it blew a bubble which he pulled from his muzzle. Tying the end off with a string it floated as if it were filled with helium.

 

“And with a needle from the haystack.” He pulled the needle from the back of his pants button and popped the gum balloon. “Always bursting my bubble, aren't you?”

 

She went on about physical labor and, ugh, schedules, he could feel his feathers prickle in places he's forgotten he's had them! His features would flatten as he dispersed his outfit and lowered to the ground once more. Standing on his hind legs the spirit would waddle after the mare, his tail tuft pinching an app from the basket. The tail seemed to have a mind its own as it passed to apple to his paw, almost independent in movement. Rubbing the apple off his feathers to shine it he gave his lips a quick lick with that forked tongue of his. Looking o the mare as she began off he followed to make sure she didn't hurt herself.

 

What now?

 

Chickens?!


He gave a bemused chuckle. He wasn't some work pony. He was a god of chaos and was prone to chronic bouts of leisure and exception to the rule. Pressing his paw to his chest, as his ears folded back and brows raised to display his malcontent, his nostrils flared as he snorted. “You don't mean me to …” No… she didn't mean for him to -- “Collect eggs?” He spoke with an offended tone, his expression playing on his features as he completely balked at the idea. “Madam… I have allergies to hard work.” Plus those chickens… he didn't trust them with their tiny beaks and beady eyes!

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