Anastasia Roux Grayson | 28yrs | Fuerte + Ele | Dressage/Barrel Racing | M: Open

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In her dorm Anne was still in bed having a little sleep in after the exciting arrival of Ele and the training session with Fuerte last night, Half an hour later than she usually would wake up she finally opened her dark brown eyes and pulled herself up from the bed stretching her limbs before she went to the bathroom and did her morning things. Once she was outside dressed in her horse clothes she made her way down to the barn Ele was located in, Coming down the lane she found the mare resting in one of the stalls just the way she left her last night and thankfully no foal to be seen. Anne had never owned a pregnant mare before and she had almost no clue when the mare was due but she continued putting on the mares halter and leading her out to the pastures

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Leading the mare out of the barn Anne looking back at the mare a few times still finding it hard to believe how gentle she was, If it was Fuerte he would have bumped her a trillion times by now and thrown a whole fit about going past the mares pasture but Ele was calm she didn't complain one bit or even toss her head. "Can't wait till your foal arrived so i can see how you are in the saddle" She smiled at the mare who looked at her a few times

Dublin | M: Table

Time seemed frozen to him now. People moved their mouths to speak, but he hardly heard them anymore. Not what they really said, at least. It all entered his head like something he needed to protect himself against, and that produced more and more of that fake, unwarranted rage, building up to another breaking point. If he could have chosen any moment to last forever, this one would be far from a top pick. And yet, some unloving outside force had already decided for him. This would be remembered, and it's meaning to him would twist and pervert every time it was, even starting now.

There was a lot of nasty things he wanted to add. Yet, at the same time, there wasn't. He didn't want to be like this. The impulses just made him think he was safer for a quick moment. Over and over again, when it wasn't true. While he sneered, or shouted, or whatever rude thing it was he instictively resorted to, it felt right and well. But once the moment passed, he felt consumed by such a guilt that you'd swear he'd ran over a puppy. Treat something bad like nothing, then treat it a million times worse than it is. The cycle was so sickening. He'd been trying to convince himself to go numb to it for a while, having been unsuccessful at the better option of trying to just not be so snarky.

But that numbness didn't work when his eyes met Louis. Dublin wasn't sure why-- and frankly, he didn't ever want to know-- but when Louis looked at him in that way, and seemingly took on some sort of minor guilt of his own, his anger began to crumble. Why would he apologize for something he didn't say? Why did he want to make things better? Why the hell wasn't there some sort of anger in his eyes, too? Dublin struggled to deal with this immensely.

"No, you.." The words were hardly audible, besides the heavy lacing of confusion and remnant fury. Once more, he was suddenly left hanging with nothing to respond with. He wanted to think about something else, bad.

God, I need a cigarette... He practically cried the thought. It hadn't been that long since his last one, and yet he felt like he could enter a nasty withdrawal any second now. He'd resisted the urge too long. Clearly it was impolite to blow smoke in the faces of your acquaintances, and probably immoral to be lit indoors, or something. But this far down the hole? It didn't matter anymore. He needed this. He didn't feel right without it.

Dublin snatched up and tore at his cigarette pack with a crackhead sort of haste and tremble. The aggressive desperation at which he moved made clear that he relied on this, heavily, and the remaining anger in his expression paired for a strong warning against anyone telling him off for his behavior. It was almost violent, the way he struck it lit and inhaled a drifty wall of death so thankfully. He had the decency to blow the smoke down into his shirt, so it didn't move through the air so freely toward anyone. The more he did this, the softer his eyes grew-- still tense and on edge, but not so angered and twitchy.

Not having the strength to really look at someone anymore, Dublin now kept his gaze glued on the table in front of him, regardless of if someone mentioned him to any degree. Though, thinking that Louis must have been happy with all of these people coming to, he managed to whisper a real response to what had been said before, in a way longing to preserve that happiness. A meek whisper which failed his attempt to seem collected again, but a response nonetheless.

"Please. Don't worry about it. At all."

Once again, he went back to his state of deliberate silence, hardly listening to any of the words spat back and forth between the group anymore. He wasn't needed in it. They got on fine by themselves. Which, made him wonder why it'd been decided he'd be brought along to such a social moment in the first place. Surely he hadn't made a good impression before over his wonderful ability to hold a conversation. Now, though, whether he stayed and endured it or not was up to him, and for a reason he didn't understand, he insisted on staying.

Reggie Sawyer | HP, Brielle, Heidi

The amiable expressions across both of their faces gave Reggie a great sense of relief, since he wasn't feeling exactly in the mood to deal with any other riders with excessive pride, especially this early in his stay. It had been a while since he had been at a competitive stable, so his tolerance wasn't the same as before. That was most of his teenage memories, the dealing with other people who viewed themselves as better than him.

"Yeah, I am! Have we ever formally met?" Now with the need to reflect back, he panned back briefly to his last competition, not that it would have been helpful. He was almost certain that they probably would have never met; he never left his room after the events to socialise. "Actually, cross-country. The event was probably the one where I had a chestnut mare, no? Loca's her name. That was my first major show jumping event. I'm glad to meet the more experienced people though."

At the voice that came up from the long aisle, Reggie turned to meet the owner of the voice, accepting the handshake with an equally matched smile. Instantly, Reggie took a liking to the other; he had every appearance of an easy-going, cheery fellow with a firm handshake. Hans Peter seemed to have a presence similar to Louis', if not even better. Pleasant, but with more gentleness and restraint.

"Norway? It's a really stunning country, isn't it? My mother misses it often, says that her real home is there."

"I came for therapy, so as to speak. I haven't been able to do any proper jumping for what? Two-three years? I came to correct that."

International Showjumping Clique | Reggie

Brielle shrugged, that dazzling smile still etched on her face. “Not that I remember,” she glanced over to Heidi, who also shook her head. Heidi crossed her arms, hugging the folder to her chest as she watched him. His demeanor was soft, kind, and culturally similar to what she was used to. In an odd way, he made her feel closer to home.

“We are glad to meet you, too.” Heidi glanced to Brielle before continuing, wondering if she was going to speak again or not. The French woman was extremely extroverted and charismatic and typically carried the conversations they had with others. She seemed satisfied to allow Heidi to continue speaking, though, so she did. “You are new as well?”

Before long, HP had entered the picture, that big, goofy grin of his lighting up the room the way Brielle’s did. She loved her friends dearly, but sometimes she felt out of place among them. They were both so likeable, so socially desired. Heidi didn’t regard herself in the same manner, she felt like the obligatory third friend that lingered in the group but always stayed in the shadows rather than the spotlight. Brielle was beautiful--extremely beautiful. She drew male attention wherever she went, and kindness and sunshine radiated off of her, keeping it. People adored her, they were attracted to her, they were in awe of her. Even today in casual clothing, Heidi had watched more than one male rider take a second look as they walked past. The same could be said of her Norwegian friend. He wasn’t flawlessly stunning in the way that Brielle was--few were--but he was extremely loved by everyone he came across. He had a respectful, soft personality and a charming sense of humor. A few words from him could make anyone smile. He was the kind of guy that every girl wanted to bring home to her family, and many had tried. The two of them had more friends than she could even think about counting.

Then there was Heidi. She was asleep by seven-thirty most nights after an hour or two of light reading. Most of her friends were fictional characters from the books she read, and most of her happiness came from the worlds that they lived in. Nothing gave her more joy than her french press coffee machine and breakfast foods. She liked her cats way too much, and for some reason had developed an obsession with collecting antique items of various novelty. She did not belong with the French goddess and her blithe sidekick. They were so very vespertine, so cultured and desirable. She never felt that way about herself, though there were moments she liked to convince herself she had.

Breathing in gently, Heidi allowed her attention to rest on the conversation that was transpiring between the two men. It was easier to listen and feel as if she wasn’t there, it was what she was used to doing. Besides, if she was contributing to the conversation, how could she ever analyze the slightest intricacies in a person? She thoroughly enjoyed that, perhaps more than any other aspect of human interaction. The way the human expression betrayed itself was one of the most fascinating mysteries of the world.

“There is nowhere like it,” HP agreed, that broad, happy smile still plastered on his face. “I hope to take the girls there soon,” he gestured to Heidi, and to Brielle, who was writing something down in her phone. “They’ve never been. Have you?”

Responding thoughtfully to his new friend’s next response, he added, “that’s far too long, I would cry I think,” he chuckled. “I am glad you are here now. I hope we will get to be friends, it will be nice to have a fourth member of our little group.”

Benjamin Rowden | OPEN

“Good mare, Celeste,” Ben gave the picturesque mare a pat on her sleek, cresty neck, before shoving his hands back in his pockets. Her face followed his hands, seeking food. Of her own accord, she began to perform the tricks he taught her. Smiling, hugging, bowing--the ones that required minimal effort. He had taught her so many tricks, but those were worth the energy for the food she was convinced they would create. She tossed her head playfully. Darn right I’m a good mare.

Ben had come just in time for the turnout rotation to switch again. He wanted to move his horses himself like he had done for so many years, and would do for so many more. They were used to him and only him, and he wanted it to stay that way. He’d done far too much with them for it to be any other way than how it was. Most of his pride in his horses was because of the partnership they shared. He could do anything with his horses, his connection to them was beyond what words could describe. He knew their souls, and they knew his. Celeste, especially. It was so much more than a pretty picture and the fanfare they received from their following on the internet. It was pure, it was rare, it was bigger than them.

Decidedly, it was an off day for Celeste and for his two mini ponies, Rocket and Tucker. Ben had considered doing some free-lunging with them or even hacking the Friesian Sporthorse mare, but he couldn’t be bothered with the effort that might take. Besides, they hadn’t been here long enough to know the ebb and flow of barn traffic yet, and he wanted to take them out when he had the time and freedom to do what he wanted with them. His mass following required mass effort in recording footage of his horses, not to mention properly spending time with them for his own personal benefit. He had yet to find out if mornings or evenings were quieter on the property, but he intended to take the day to find out.

Silas Su-Jin | M: OPEN

Warm vanilla scent hung in the air playfully. The morning light was dim but persistent rays around the small room, having cast through a thin drawn shade in front of the window. Su-Jin snuggled up in his overflowing fortess of pillows and blankets, face half buried in something fuzzy and cozy, ever so content floating in his drowsiness forever. Not the slightest thought crossed his mind, as if he weren't truly awake yet.

He had only arrived at the Virginian property the day prior, managing to slip virtually unseen between all of the bustle and busy of the time's planned activities. It didn't hurt his feelings. After a move like that, he'd been very excited to build his nest and fall asleep. Not that he wasn't always excited for that. Unfortunately, today would likely have a lot more in store for him than yesterday, and his drifty peace was then shattered by the plain thought of having to get out of bed. It was so warm here-- couldn't he just postpone existing until tomorrow?

A few minutes drew on until a sleepy sigh escaped him. Su-Jin came to terms with the fact he had things that needed done, and reluctantly dragged himself from the depths of his millions of comfy blankets. He stretched as he stood, a couple relieving pops sounding from his back, then snagged his glasses off a stand once he had his balance. In his mind, there was no use trying to fix himself up and look proper before he stepped outside. After all, it wasn't like he owned anything besides the baggy clothes he slept in, aside from sneakers. No, he was perfectly ready to go just as he was, mess of hair and all.

He shuffled along through the dorm halls ever so slow and relaxed, like he had all of the time in the world and a penny for every care he didn't give. His expression and overall presence was soft and warm, cuddly maybe. Definitely drunk-tired in appearance. At this pace, it took him longer than it probably should have to get out of the building, having gotten distracted by little decorations along the way as well. Once he'd stepped outside, he stopped and basked in the shimmer of the sun, mind freely empty.

One confidence boost in the day later, Su-Jin decided to make his way to the stable blocks. He'd recieved the honor of bringing two of the family horses with him here, his favorite pair. As much as they could be strong-willed and annoying, they'd traveled thousands of miles with his family over the years and truly earned themselves a forever home with them. Su-Jin was mostly glad that his parents trusted him not to kill the equines, being so far away from the family and all. Or maybe they only let him take them because the stableworkers were the ones really taking care of them. Oh well, he chose to believe he was just super fantastically reliable in their eyes, instead.

He hunted down Hoagie first, the eternally bored Criollo gelding that'd carried him through his western gaming obsession. The stout sooty buckskin was found standing lazily in one of the center stalls, showing no signs of life besides the occasional slap of his straggly tail at a persistent bug. Su-Jin watched him from the gate with an intense love for the gelding bubbling in his chest. To most, the horse'd seem unimpressive, but to him he was outstanding.

When Hoagie's long ears pointed forward and it seemed he'd finally noticed he wasn't alone, Su-Jin cood something sweet and cutesy, as if the gelding were his little baby. Hoagie continued staring in interest for quite a few moments before sighing and falling back asleep, a look of antisocial boredom returning.

Satisfied after watching him a while longer, Su-Jin turned and looked around the place with a burning curiosity, soon deciding to meander around and enjoy the surroundings. He was very interested in knowing what the heart of this place really was; the people's spirit, and the memories sunk into the walls. Oh, and the schedule too. That one would turn out very helpful. On that note, he began to think he should have payed more attention to the communications he'd been sent from staff before.

Arlette Wright | Ben R.

Hidalgo had accepted the spraying hose with pure grace and no vice; there had been no need to put up with the protesting communication and the typical splashing whenever he would start stamping away at any puddles. Arlette had been pleased with how he was growing up, especially he was still a baby by any comparison. His easy affability and willingness to learn had always been a charm, one that was perfect for him as her first project horse, her own project horse to raise.

Scraping off the sweat and water, the end product had been a very happy and glossy horse. With the warmer weather here, Arlette switched up the routine to add in a walk for an additional quarter of an hour, to really make sure he had cooled down. It had even given her an opportunity to check that he wasn’t putting undue pressure on any limbs, no limping, no discomfort. Being this close to another major race, the last thing that was needed was an injury. All of his exercise had been cut down by some amount or switched into light work that would build muscle without the need to run.

No doubt, she still felt some pangs of grief, or maybe regret, for him. There was a chance – and a very high chance at that- that he would be retired out and transferred onto a new stage of his life, where he would have a chance to be a proper young horse, but where the chance to race would not be in. At times, she wondered how he would adjust. For an equine that is so spirited, and so in love with what he does, maybe it would be better to transfer him over to a Steeplechase rider, then Hidalgo would be able to run for years to come.

Putting his flymask on, she released him into the pasture, watching him over the fence as he did the little hops and twists across the entire section along the fence. A slight smile twitched to the corner of her eyes. Her green eyes softened for a moment before she pivoted away, leaving Hidalgo to his hour-long freedom on the grass. She needed to deal with Baby. Speaking of which, what on earth had her brother named the poor mare? Baby? There were so many other options, and he had to like that name? Her brother was an odd person, with a really poor fashion sense and a worse naming ability.

Coming into the mare barn, her first attention was to the fact that Louis’ mare was already expected to have been fed, and mucked out, courtesy in part to some stable hand. Silently cursing her twin, she made a silent vow to never again take favours from him, or fall into one of his little traps. Every time, she would end up doing tasks that required energy and time from her. Her second attention came onto another male, maybe her age, maybe not, with his own mare, who seemed a sweet enough mount. Pausing in her tracks, she watched the antics, giving a brief applause at the spectacle.

‘Commendable. You taught her all of that?’

Reggie Sawyer | HP, Brielle, Heidi.

“Every other year or so, before Leo was born. After that, she hasn’t found the time to go back.”

The conversation was fluid, easily developing on from one point to another, and finding it no difficulty to get along with them, Reggie murmured a type of assent to what Hans Peter had offered. While Hans Peter was easy enough to get to know, so far, the other two had not spoken quite as much, hence the slight uncertainty. Then again, they were also busy with…whatever they were trying to figure out. He would have offered some help, but frankly, he probably didn’t know enough of this place to be of any particular use. His own poor sense of direction was more likely to send them on a goose-chase than on the right path.

Out of the three, the most unknown was the shorter Heidi who had only contributed some three sentences throughout the whole conversation. Brielle had, by far, dominated the larger portion of the words said by the women. From what Reggie could see, Heidi was timider, or maybe more reserved and closed off. The fact that she had observed him and HansP during their conversation reminded him in some ways of himself. People-watching was an interesting enough sport, and even better when doing it with someone else he’d found. Preferably not with someone else that was unnecessarily loud and outspoken.

“Any particular reason why you guys came across a couple of oceans to get here?”