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This is a private Rp. Please do not post unless you are listed above, thank you^^
Rivals-Friends-Enemies-Lovers Equestrians |
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☯︎General Information☯︎ Name: Mattaius Crowe Nickname(s): Matt, Crowe Age: 19 Gender: Male Sexuality: Straight Nationality: Portuguese by origin Mother Tongue: English Religion: N/A Living Place: Resides in Britian Birthday: 29 February (leap year hehe) ⌯ ☯︎Physical Description☯︎ Height: 6" Body Type: Average Birthmark(s): N/A Scar(s): Small scar that runs from his bottom lip to chin Eye Colour: Dark Hazel Hair colour: Brown Ombre Hairstyle: Messy Mop Clothing Style: Casual (eg. hoodies, sweatshirts, jeans, sneakers) Riding (eg. longsleeves, crisp breeches. tall boots) ⌯ ☯︎Pyschological Information☯︎ General Personality: Matt is quite grumpy and reserved, he prefers not to socialize at all. He's not exactly a friendly face to be aproaching and is always loaded withlong words and insults. Likes: Music, reading and overall being alone Dislikes: Loud people, pop music and fantasy books Hobbies: Apart from riding he plays the drums Fears: TBD ⌯ ☯︎Medical Information☯︎ Illness(es): N/A Mentel Disorder(s): TBD Physical Disorder(s): TBD Allergies: TBD |
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☯︎General Information☯︎ Show Name: Esprit De Lune Barn Name: Esprit Sex: Mare Age: 12 Years Breed: Anglo-Arab x AES ⌯ ☯︎Physical Description☯︎ Coat Colour: Chestnut Markings: A small pastern on her left foreleg Height: 16HH Apearence: ⌯ ☯︎Pyschological Information☯︎ Personality: Esprit is the perfect schoolmaster. She's patient and easily adjusts to any mistake her rider makes – there aren't many! She's a very versatile mare and takes everything her owner throughs at her with ease. Esprit is content with anything she's doing – whether its tackling the show ring or chilling in the paddocks. Her adjustability makes her suitable for any discipline although she has a clear preference for showjumping. Strengths: Versitality, Patience and Speed Weaknesses: High-Maintenence when it comes to food, need for constant companionship ⌯ ☯︎Lineage☯︎ Sire: Duke Of Hearts (2000 stallion, novice 1, relations to Donnerhall Dam: Oil'Wood (2015 mare, 1.30m) |
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ꕥGeneral Informationꕥ Name: Miriam Boucher Nickname(s): Mimi, Miri Age: 18 Gender: Female Sexuality: Straight Nationality: French Mother Tongue: English Religion: N/A Living Place: Resides in Britain Birthdate: December 25th •ꕥ• ꕥPhysical Descriptionꕥ Height: 5'1" Body Type: Slim-Curvy Birthmark: None, though she does have a splat of freckles over her nose and cheeks. Scars: N/A Eye Color: Grey-Blue Hair Color: Auburn Hair Style: Long, ringlet curls Clothing Style: Mostly casual; Typically found in jeans and t-shirts, but has been known to wear a dress or two now and again for other occasions. She also wears usual riding attire. •ꕥ• ꕥPsychological Informationꕥ General Personality: Mimi is generally a hot headed, smart mouthed young woman who is ready for a fight whenever she is presented with one. She's unafraid to hurt feeling or step on toes, nor is she afraid to be a typical little menace. To put it plainly, Miriam is a handful and she knows it. She will happily get on your nerves. Likes: Music, nature trails, and swimming Dislikes: Complete silence, cold weather, and being alone Hobbies: Outside of riding, Miriam is quite adept on the piano Fears: Thunderstorms, TBD •ꕥ• ꕥMedical Informationꕥ Illness(es): N/A Mental Disorder(s): TBD Physical Disorder(s): TBD Allergies: Bees |
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ꕥGeneral Informationꕥ Show Name: Gunmetal God Barn Name: Godrick Sex: Gelding Age: 12 Breed: Thoroughbred •ꕥ• ꕥPhysical Descriptionꕥ
Coat Color: Black Markings: He has a white sock on one back leg, as well as a white marking down his nose. Height: 16.4HH Appearance: •ꕥ• ꕥPsychological Informationꕥ Personality: Godrick is a high spirited horse who needs an equally fiery rider to keep him in line. He can be a bit temperamental, but that doesn't stop him from succeeding with his rider in all that he can! He is a determined and hard working man, he just likes to try doing things his way, when he wants it. Generally he is not so high strung when simply in the paddock, making him a great friend to any pasture mates, but he does have a wild hair in him from time to time. Strengths: Speed, Versitality, and Stamina Weaknesses: Despises to be alone- and is a known escape artist when he is! |
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☯︎Mattiuas Crowe☯︎ - The feed room smelled faintly sweet, courtesy of the beet pulp that currently lay soaking in Matt's red bucket. He was currently busy mixing Esprits morning feed. It was a simple task, boring some would say, but Matt found it relaxing and overall quite pleasant. Checking his watch, Matt noted it had been 15 minutes and that the pulp could be set out now. Matt rolled up his black sleeves as to avoid getting them dirty and put the pulp into Esprits feed bucket. He didn't even bother rinsing his hands off just yet, as he enjoyed mixing everything himself than using one of the yards mixers. Then he measured out her hard feed – performance cubes, which was about 3/4 of a scoop. Matt nearly ran a hand threw his hair before remembering that his hands were covered in feed. He added her lineseed oil and magnesium, making sure to mix the powder in until it was unnoticable. Esprit was an awfully picky eater and he always had to hide the powder. Giving the bucket a final shake he headed out of the feed room and to her stall. Esprits stall was one of the twelve in the large barn, with polished wood and brash glinting in the morning light. Inside, her shavings were fresh and pale, banked neatly against the walls. A haynet hung full in the corner, the scent of timothy hay mixing with the clean tang of linseed oil from the feed room. Her golden nameplate shone brighter than their tackroom lights, although considering how badly they needed reparing it wasn't suprising. She stood square in the middle, head high over the door, ears flicking toward every sound in the aisle. The mare’s copper coat glowed against the pale bedding, muscles shifting beneath her skin as she shifted her weight from one hind to the other. When the feed bucket clinked against the front rail, she let out a loud whinney, as if to say 'finally, you took ages'. The aisle of stalls were calm. A few stalls down, a grey gelding pawed lightly at his bedding; another horse snorted, shaking hay from his forelock. The groom’s footsteps echoed softly on the rubber matting, the faint scrape of a wheelbarrow rolling in the distance. Esprit stretched her neck as the bucket was hooked into place, nostrils flaring at the familiar scent of her breakfast. She dipped her muzzle in almost before Matts hand left the handle. "Yeah, alright Miss.Greedy." He chuckled softly |
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ꕥMiriam Boucherꕥ •ꕥ• The early morning air had came as a delightful greeting as Miriam walked through the beautiful, rolling green pastures. At least, it better have considering how far her beloved Godrick had decided to stray from his typical pasture. Alone for barely ten minutes, he helped himself to the remaining field that contained some of the other horses. Of course, the explorer he was, was too far to care to hear Miriam's call until she was half of the way to him, and only then did he race across the field in excitement. He whinnied at her in greeting, chuffing as he came to a halt some feet before the small woman. "Yes, good morning to you too, you naughty boy," she laughed, rubbing his soft nose before giving kisses as he demanded. She spent a few moments lavishing him with attention before attaching a lead to his pristine baby blue halter and making their way back towards the barn where a nice, clean stall and fresh hay awaited them. And so long he didn't cause much more trouble in the time it took for her to grab it, his breakfast. Godrick had a pep in his step, though he did not out walk his human, remaining eager but patient in their travel. She ran a hand through her curls, the wind catching some of the strands in a caress before letting go once more, giving her a wind blown look by the time she reached the inside aisle of stalls. It was still early, accounting for few currently present people, but that was alright. She wasn't completely alone, especially with her mostly gentle giant right behind her, and that was all that mattered. The pair trailed down the aisle until they reached Godrick's stall, his mostly shining name plate a bit smudged from his tomfoolery and habit of meddling with things, no doubt. "Alright, lovely, in you go, and in you stay for now," she cooed, leading him inside of his stall before taking off the lead. Miriam gave the gelding a nice pat and rub on the neck before closing the door behind herself to retrieve the feed she had earlier prepared before discovering his little morning mischief. It took her only a few minutes, but already she could see his dark head peeking out of the stall, whinnying at her to hurry up. "Alright alright," she laughed, hanging his feed bucket, to which he gratefully took to. She merely watched him for a few moments, a subtle smile painted across her pretty face. How she loved every morning like that... |
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☯︎Mattaius Crowe☯︎ Matt stepped back from Esprit’s stall, letting her finish the last few nibbles of her feed. The chestnut mare shifted her weight, ears flicking toward the aisle, tail flicking lazily as she surveyed the quiet barn. Sunlight streamed through the skylights, catching the copper sheen of her coat. He reached in, brushing a stray flake of bedding from her shoulder, then checked her water bucket — clean and full, with a faint ripple from a previous sip. Her rug was tidy, folded neatly at the withers, and the shavings beneath her hooves were smooth except for the soft hoofprints she’d left during breakfast. “Ready to get moving?” Matt murmured, voice low and even. Esprit responded with a soft nicker, flicking her ears back toward him as if to say let’s go. He clipped on her lead rope and stepped onto the aisle, feeling the familiar pull of her weight as she followed obediently. The barn was just coming to life — the soft murmur of voices from the tack room, the clink of metal as a nearby horse shifted in its stall. The quiet rhythm of their steps filled the space as Matt guided her into the cross-ties, securing the clips with a practiced flick of his wrist. Esprit stood tall, head held high, the chestnut gleam of her coat catching the morning light as Matt ran a hand down her neck, checking the fit of the halter. She shifted slightly, restless but still, a horse who knew exactly what was coming next. With a soft, low hum, Matt began to brush her with slow, methodical strokes, using the curry comb first to loosen the remnants of bedding and dust. "Let’s get you cleaned up," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper as he worked. The rhythm of his movements was quiet but deliberate, the sound of the brush against her coat joining the quiet hum of the barn. Esprit gave a small snort, flicking her tail, and he responded with a quiet chuckle. "Always impatient, huh?" He worked his way down her side, finishing with her hindquarters before stepping back to admire her sleek coat in the light. With a soft pat on her shoulder, he moved to the tack room to grab her tack. |
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ꕥMiriam Boucherꕥ •ꕥ•
As Godrick finished his breakfast, Mimi focused on gathering her tools to get him brushed and cleaned up for their impending ride. She could hear the almost impatient swish of his tail and stomps of his feet from there, his head soon poking out to watch her with a bit of water dripping from his chin. With a chuckle and a shake of her head, Miriam returned to the gelding and led him once more out his stall to where she had brushes and combs waiting for him. She made quick but soothing work of his coat, knocking loose dried mud from what must've been a nice little roll before brushing away all of the dust. She tutted as she looked at his black mane, full of fairy knots and tangles. "They got you good last night, didn't they?" She murmured, beginning to gently pick out the knots from his hair. It took less time than she expected, but she certainly couldn't complain and it would seem that Godrick couldn't either. "Alright, lovely, hang tight," she smiled, giving him a pat before departing into the tack room. Miriam walked inside the room, twisting a loose curl around one finger in absentmindedness. She had been about to start grabbing all of his tack when she heard steps coming in behind her. Her head turned, that curl still wound around her slender finger. Her steel blue eyes landed on Matt, their acquaintanceship familiar but not friendly, much like the small smile she offered before shuffling aside to grab the rest of Godrick's tack. "Mattaius. Morning," she greeted as she turned back around, arms full of tack at that point. She knew she likely wouldn't get a warm response back, if any at all, but regardless, she almost always greeted him when they crossed paths in the morning. She just assumed he was the quiet type and not so fond of her; and that was alright. She wasn't looking for a friend in her rivals anyhow, but she didn't mind buttering them up a little. |
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☯︎Mattaius Crowe☯︎ Matt stepped into the tack room with Esprit’s bridle looped over one arm, the faint creak of the door swinging shut behind him blending with the quiet hum of the barn. The space smelled of leather oil and old wood, the kind of scent that usually settled him first thing in the morning. Today, it didn’t. He’d just reached for the saddle rack when a small shift of movement in the corner caught his eye. She was already halfway through gathering Godrick’s tack, arms full, her posture relaxed in that way only riders who didn’t mind sharing space tended to be. Matt paused just long enough to acknowledge her greeting, the curl of her voice smooth and familiar. “Mattaius. Morning.” He didn’t bother correcting her on the name. Mattauis was the one word he hated more than anything else, sure it was birth name but he hadn't been called Mattaius in a long time. He gave a single, short nod – the bare minimum. “Morning,” he replied, the word dull and scraped thin. His tone made it clear he would’ve preferred silence. He shifted the bridle higher on his arm, fingers brushing against the cool metal of the bit. Esprit’s impatience drifted in from the aisle — a soft stamp, a sharp exhale. Behind him, Miriam adjusted the tack in her arms, a brush of movement that tugged at his awareness even though he tried to ignore it. She always had this way of filling a room without actually doing anything — some combination of confidence and ease that grated on him more than it should have. He kept his eyes on the saddle’s panels, running a quick check over the billets and stitching, pretending he didn’t notice the loose curl she absently twisted around her finger. Pretending he didn’t hear her steady breathing behind him or the faint shift of leather in her arms. He hadn’t come in here for conversation. He hefted Esprit’s saddle against his hip, adjusting his grip. Godrick’s distant snort echoed down the aisle, followed by a stomping of hooves that shook a few bridles on their hooks. Matt’s jaw tightened. “Your gelding’s awake enough for the both of us,” he muttered, the slightest edge slipping into his voice. Not quite joking — he didn’t joke — but dry, almost irritated. “Esprit doesn’t need an entire barn announcing morning.” He still didn’t look at her. He stepped sideways, giving himself a clear path toward the door, the distance between them widening in inches but feeling like a relief. “See you,” he said finally, the words low, final, almost dismissive. He didn’t linger for a response. Esprit was waiting, and that — more than anything in this room — was where his attention actually belonged. |
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Heavy Downpours, Flood Warning
