Sandra Proudstorm | 19 | Show Jumping | The Great Rebellion "Shade" | School Horse: WO Legend Rise "Legend" | M: Heather, Cameron

I swear this roleplay is immortal. We’ve been through so many seasons I can hardly keep track XD

Reyes Castel | 24 | Dressage | Ceri

Reyes sat atop a hulking stallion that resembled something of a warship, his fur the color of storm clouds. It swirled and rippled like an angry sky too, calm and placid in some areas and deep and malevolent in others. The steed himself was a direct contrast to his striking coloring, fully asleep now with his lip drooping and occasionally allowing little drips of grass-green drool to form a puddle near his front hooves. He had been basking in the little pockets of sunlight that slipped through the overcast sky for many minutes while his rider sat atop him with both legs hanging loose, the right one now crossed over the horse’s withers casually as if he sat on a couch and not a living being.

The man was writing diligently in a journal, biting his lip out of pure thought. It was one of many obscure little quirks he had, like the scrunching of his nose in disapproval of something or the brilliantly goofy smile he showed when he missed the response to a question he asked. This quirk happened most frequently because of the sheer amount of time the man spent thinking, writing, contemplating. As a result, he had gotten quite used to the taste of his own blood, which sometimes oozed out of the corner where he so often bit down. Today, however, it was a nauseating sensation.

After writing down whatever it was he had written down, the massive figure slipped the journal back into his backpack, which was hanging loosely from his back. For such grandiose figures of strength and masculinity, the pair looked oddly disheveled. The stallion had on mismatched polo wraps that only somewhat matched his saddle pad, and his long, billowing mane was tied up in misshapen braids that could hardly be called such. The man himself wore the most unusual, vibrant plaid pants with lines of neon orange and violet, hardly breeches at all and patched with scraps of different fabrics. It was hard to tell how intentional or unintentional this raggedy appearance was just by looking at the pair--they seemed normal enough.

Briefly, Reyes’ gaze lifted from his mount’s ears to a flock of Canadian geese that had been lingering nearby and had suddenly decided to take flight. He glanced down, watching a horse that had been recently turned loose galloping around the turnout, a cloud of dust surrounding him, realizing that was what had caused the geese to stir. The man’s attention then fell to the girl who had turned the pony out. She had intriguingly yellow hair in a shade he’d never seen before, and her frame was thin. She was small, and for a moment the thought of standing beside her amused him. He liked tiny people, though everyone was tiny in comparison to him.

Though he considered speaking to her briefly, he acknowledged that he had never been fantastic at making first impressions or at socializing in general, for that matter. Especially with girls, though he preferred their company to that of his own gender. Without another word, Reyes marched the unique stallion along the road, walking him up to an area of the property he had yet to discover. After another moment, he pulled out the notebook once more, re-reading all of the thoughts he had previously recorded. He sifted through poetic musings and short-hand notes to find what he was looking for: the list of horses he was assigned to ride for the day, that had begun with this massive gray.

Circe Warwick | 18 | Endurance | Feather/Saturn (School Horse)

Circe’s stomach reminded her that it was well past time for breakfast as the wheels of her rented truck and trailer lurched to a shaky stop ending in a stalled engine. “Asked them not to give me a stick shift,” she muttered as she shut the door. The force left the sound echoing slightly across the open area of the parking lot. There was an answering stamp from inside the trailer as she reached for the latch, slowly lowering the ramp and meeting the reproving state of her horse. A soft chuckle escaped her as she backed the grey mare out of the trailer and into the sun. “It wasn’t that bad and you know it.”

Upon reaching the barn, Feather was tied to a fence rail near the door as Circe stepped inside. She walked slowly down the isle, both admiring the horses within and searching out any identification of which would be hers. She paused for a moment to admire a large grey mare before noticing the nameplate on the door reading ‘Saturn’. “Ah,” she murmured, “so you’re the beauty I get to spoil.” The mare eyed her warily in response. “That’s all right, you’ll get used to me.” A flicker of yellow caught her eye and she turned to see a sticky note on the stall across the aisle. ‘Circe - Put Feather here.’ Circe pocketed the note with a shrug before retrieving her horse, making sure she was comfortable before sitting down in the aisle and pulling a small bag of carrot sticks from her pocket. “Home sweet home, for now.”

(Will have to bounce ideas on whether Laurence continued to ghost Sam so I can elaborate on whether Shes been stressed or not Lol.Anyways,Sam post up,Will have Chester up tomorrow. I really like Sam's growth,I'm so excited to write them again I cant even 😂 )

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Samantha Starr / Eventer / Mickey / M:
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"See you little monster.Didnt get you anywhere but tired now did it huh?"
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The blonde huffed as she tried to sweep her unruly hair away from her tomato red cheeks, to which strands were sticking, so she could get a better look at the bay stood beside her.The Colt met her gaze easily,Looking rather pleased with himself and not short of breath in the slightest.If only Samantha could claim the same,as it turned out after chasing him around for a good hour she wasnt as fit as shed hoped.Taking the colt by his lead rope she led him out of the paddock with an iron-grip,watching the cheeky horse from the corner of her eyes as he flaunted himself besides her.The young woman couldnt shake the the smile that crept on her lips as she watched the stud whinny excitedly to Joker - the pie bald Arabian offering an unimpressed expression to the fact Tumnus was quite clearly misgendering him.

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"He's a gelding Tum,So dont get any ideas - Trust me Both of you will get a shock.."

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Sam giggled at the thought as she untied the gelding and swung herself easily onto his back from the fence before walking the pair back to the barn.By the time she'd gotten back her premium riding tights were plastered in white hairs,and her wrist tired from keeping the Colt in check the whole time back.She vaulted down from Jokers back,Leaving him where he was to put the troublesome stallion safely in his stall.
*
An hour or so later,The strawberry blonde wasnt any cleaner or any less heated.Having now worked 3 horses already this morning,Sam was even less appreciative of the workout Tumnus had given her.And of course Sky was not helping the matter.The Boerperd mare was requiring an insane amount of leg this morning,Making her cheeks red from the effort rather than the nippy freshness of the early spring season.However,Sam was actually feeling alot more positive regarding her new routine - not fully impressed with the fact that everyone else was allowed a lie in as she worked the horses but positive.Okay so just maybe a little perplexed by the fact Tim was the one getting a nice rest as she worked his horses.Still she guessed she couldnt complain - well not really.
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Over the last few months,Her older mentor was the only one that had kept her sane throughout possibly one of the most stressful times of her life (I'm not exactly sure what that is,I'll work that out when we plan if Laurence or Sam have spoken or not since the accident? ) mainly by keeping her extremely busy.The once bedridden woman was now participating in jam packed 15 hour days,exercising both hers and Tim's mounts - as well as partaking in breaking in his troublesome colt,which was providing a time consuming task within itself.Being a light,Small rider Tim had found Sam would be the perfect one to take on the task under his scrupulous guiding - whilst she had found Tumnus to be a cheeky, patience testing stallion.Thankfully,He had given her the afternoon off riding for a change,A welcome realisation to Sam as she untacked Sky and checked the stables before trying to decide whether she was going to finally catch up on her ironing or cleaning on the walk back to her dorm.Wasnt it about time she took a little time for herself.

Laurence DiLorenzo | Sam

Laurence took his foot off the gas, allowing the vehicle to coast the remaining distance around the bend, past yards and yards of exquisite white fencing that stood out amidst the green Virginia landscape like a landmark. Home, he thought, if this even is home. If anywhere even is.

Flipping his blinker on, Laurence let the vehicle come to a rolling stop, letting a man on a motorcycle pass. It made him smile, remembering his youth. He had owned and loved his motorcycle for all of highschool, college, and even a year or two after. He had sold it to pay for his husband’s medical bills, and everything seemed insignificant hereafter. He turned the wheel and took the familiar left into a familiar driveway where a familiar set of cars were parked in a familiar parking lot. He wondered if it would do him any good to be back here, if any of it would even matter. He had healed, he had gone through the motions, he had bettered himself. He was fitter and leaner than he had ever been, even more than when he was an athlete in college. He was healthy before, and even so, he had dropped thirty pounds. His smile was still distant, his eyes still kind, his aura still gentle and absorbent. Yet, there was so much about him that had changed. It was all so subtle it felt like a mind trick.

Sliding the gear stick forward to put the car in park, Laurence slid the key out of the ignition and slipped it into the front pocket of his backpack. He had done the six hour drive in perfect silence, preferring meditation and contemplation to the droning background noise of the radio. He didn’t have anything to his name these days, save for the necessities he kept in the black backpack he had slipped over both shoulders. He had borrowed a friend’s trailer to transport her mare here with him for training, and the car was a rental. He hardly knew how to function in society anymore, but he felt spiritually and emotionally cleansed. He wasn’t sure if that was enough, or if it ever would be.

Though he had quite a bit of business to attend to including prepping the stall for his friend’s mare, Laurence’s first order of business took him to a familiar dormitory. The name Samantha Starr was still written on the nameplate beside the door. It looked very equestrian, giving the dormitories matching nameplates to the stalls in the barns. He knocked gently, and was almost surprised when she answered. He wondered if she was expecting someone.

“Hi,” he said gently, his gaze falling to his left hand. There was no ring there, and he fought every instinct in his body telling him to twist an invisible piece of metal that didn’t exist. His gaze went from his hand to his shoes, then back up to her. She looked awful, and for a brief moment he considered that he may have caused it. Then he remembered that it had been almost six months, and she had certainly gotten over his absence in that time. A sheepish smile took over his face--it was almost apologetic. “I want to talk to you--when you have the time.” He stumbled over his words, yet he was still peaceful, still eloquent, still Laurence DiLorenzo. “If you’re too busy right now I can wait,” he swallowed, “I’m back in town for a while.”

Chester Blue / Resident / Diablo / M: Leah,Open.
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'Well just leave then.'
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The young woman's poison laced words bounced around his head as Chester put the car into park and seemed to stall in turning off the engine.The blonde had left in a fuming manner,Still able to feel his pulse pounding along his wrists after another fight.In the last few months after much persuading from Leah herself Chester had found a stunning apartment to rent near White Oaks,In the middle of a sweet town for them to try and rekindle whatever it was they had.A new start as such.But it seemed from the moment they'd set foot in that house together it was back to world war 3.
Chester vacantly exited the car,Slamming the door behind him and walking down what he assumed was a main street.Still,he didnt really care - the truth was he needed a serious break to contemplate what was even going on.His home was ruled out being as his ex-fiance never left there but to force him to some hellish relationship counciling - which by the way he was Paying 200 dollars a session for.He spotted what seemed to be a small music store and so headed there to help clear his mind.A few records to help complete his never ending collection later,Chester was back on the road toward the house - This time at with flowers and chocolate.He was sure this was what she'd want.
**
It wasn't.
He had now pitched himself a seat with an old beach chair on the front lawn,Sunbathing in the nearly absent February light.In truth,the sunglasses helped cover his eyes and any thoughts or emotions whirling inside them.More importantly they covered the developing purple tinge around his eye,that he simply couldn't Thank her enough for.What was he even doing anyways?

Samatha Starr / Mickey / M: Laurence
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"Yow!"
The young woman squeaked as there was a soft knock on the door,The momentary distraction making her jump enough to brush the iron across her finger tip.Sam quickly rushed to the sink to cool her finger before using elongated strides to reach the door,a slight irritation spreading across her body.How rude were some people anyways,Here she was finally getting into her ironing in some sort of haphazard manner and somebody had to choose now to come open the door.
The young woman never looked up at first,Simply swinging the door open and nursing her hand.At the meek voice that greeted her,her emerald eyes froze before rolling observantly up his body to meet his.She didnt want to believe it was him - in the slightest.Hadnt she simply convinced herself he was gone,It was easier to let it go that way - that he really had been just a side character in her life.And yet she couldnt help notice how good he looked,a familiar scent drifting toward her that made her bite her lip - thankful for just a little feeling of security.No.Sam purposely stretched her lips away and tried to ignore whatever flips her heart and stomach just did.
Her mouth opened slightly to speak,now ready to scream,Shout it or hit out at him with everything she had cried about the last 6 months,everything he had put her through as she wondered if he even died.But still she found no words.Unable to hold his eyes any longer she glanced away and stared at her feet,realising for a moment how horrendous she actually looked.Sam had changed back to her pjs,and was rocking her puppy slippers like a pro - and yet everytime shed imagined them reuniting she was looking stunning,ready to rub whatever he had missed right back in his face.And yet here he was before her and she couldnt even speak.When did she become such a yellow belly?
After what must have been a few minute silence,Her brows furrowed slightly at her selfcritism and her lips finally began to work,

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"You want to speak to me?"

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Now after all this freaking time.Sam omitted the comments about the contact she'd done with him.But fine,It seemed to be on his terms now.It took everything within her to hold back a cold laugh,Her brows furrowing even more and her lips tightening slightly,Gazing back at the man who had hurt her unlike any other with an uneasy expression,
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"Im sure you've better things to do than sit and watch me iron..So you know where I am - It turns out you always have.So when you find time in your schedule then come find me."
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Her words shot out more bitter than she intended,Offering a mixed emotion smile before beginning to close the door.At first a wave of guilt seemed to wash over,With every other emotion following suit.It wasnt until the door was half way shut that she fully realised how much she was shaking,making her close the door ever faster.Now she just wanted to collapse onto the freshly ironed clothes and cry - like every heartbreak she'd felt from Laurence had come back once more in a reoccurring wave to drown her.

Laurence | Sam

He felt the pain, the guilt, the responsibility that resulted from the hurt in her tone, in her eyes, in her defensive body language. It cut him like a knife, but he remembered that he had returned to take accountability for his actions. Not for his father’s actions, or for his mother’s, or for the actions of anyone else who had caused him trauma or turmoil or caused him to act in any way he had, simply for his own.

The old Laurence would have let Sam slip through his fingers, pajamas and all. His head hung as she shut the door, her face still clearly filled with anguish. He considered his options for a moment before deciding that the newer, more emotionally stable Laurence was persistent in his efforts to peacekeep. “Sam, wait.”

He put his foot between the shutting door and its frame. It wasn’t a forceful or invasive movement, it just saved him from losing the opportunity to say what was on his mind. “I came here to tell you I’m sorry. The way I acted-” he paused, looking her in the eyes. He still grasped at his words blindly sometimes like he used to. “-I wasn’t ready. When I came back, I couldn’t do it. I’m still not sure I can. I don’t know where I fit into society, or if I ever will. I’m a broken man, I’m not sure that’s ever going to change, but the way I acted was wrong. What I put you through was wrong.”

He sighed deeply, a still, looming presence in Samantha’s kitchen. The words he was saying and the feelings behind them were making him feel lightheaded, so he sunk down into one of the kitchen chairs. He wondered if she had made progress in any part of her life since he had left. He didn’t want to know. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “I know I can’t take back my actions or the effect they had on you, and I don’t expect your forgiveness. I’m going to stay out of your life as much as humanly possible while existing in the same place as you, and if my presence here is too much on you I’ll leave.” He sighed deeply, his palms cupping his forehead as he glanced down at the table. He wasn’t sure any of what he was saying was what he wanted, but he didn’t know much of what he wanted anymore, anyway. “I just needed you to hear my words in hopes that they would give some sort of closure.” He faltered for a moment, recovering, “not that you haven’t or aren’t capable of getting your own closure, but I felt I owed you an apology at the very least.”