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Post by Alexander "Sasha" Cole on Jun 26, 2010 21:39:26 GMT -6
It was an early morning for Sasha, no one could deny that. He hadn’t been able to sleep, yet again, and instead of continuing to try and make his overly active and paranoid body rest he just got up and left before the sun was fully up. He was just tired of lying in his bed and simply making himself more tired by trying to sleep. Sure, it was hard for him to go through a day at the stable doing what he did when he was so exhausted but by now he had grown used to it and he just had to start dealing with it. He couldn’t continue to simply try and sleep while getting nothing done, could he? Not to mention his horse needed him to be at the barn daily and he couldn’t just drop his horse on someone else since he didn’t trust anyone else with his stallion.
Before leaving for the stable he made himself a cup of coffee. He never used to like coffee at all, but now he had forced himself to like it for need of the caffeine. He didn’t know how he would live without it’s always intoxicated power to wake him up a bit, as it did everyone else. With that Sasha made his way out of his apartment on stable property and to his horse’s stall, keeping the doors around the stable open as he went. The doors were heavy and he had found that sometimes the stable hands had some trouble opening them and didn’t see why he would close them anyway.
Sasha didn’t even have to say a word as he walked into Strider’s barn before hearing loud whinnies coming from his large stallion. The horse did have some pretty bad separation anxiety when it came to his human and everyone around the stable learned that very quickly. Sasha was working on it and had stopped babying the horse as much as he used to in order to try and get the horse to back off a bit and calm down when he wasn’t around, but he was still having trouble with it. Hell, when Sasha was the only person who cared for him it was bound to happen. Maybe he should have someone else start to feed the stallion… yeah, not gonna happen, he didn’t trust anyone else enough to do that.
“Hey Stride,” he said softly, reaching over his free hand and sliding it through the bars of the stall door to scratch the horse’s black poll gently. He set his coffee on a box with some of his stuff outside of the stall before grabbing the crimson halter and stepping into the stall with the seventeen two hand percheron stallion, something he did daily, and almost got knocked over by his horse’s reaction to him coming back. Sasha was convinced that Strider thought he simply wouldn’t come back when he left, which of course was never going to be the truth. The horse was set in cross-ties, which were inside of the stall, before Sasha went about grooming the horse, mumbling in French the whole time, as you kind of got used to with Sasha around horses.
After he was done, and it was done to a liking, which was what his OCD would allow him to live with, the lead rope was taken from the hook on the outside of the stall door. The stud chain was put around the large nose and clipped to the side of the halter. He never knew if the horse would need it on any given day, but if he didn’t need it Sasha wouldn’t use it and then it was close enough to it not even being on. It worked. After making sure his horse was going to wait his turn, which took some prodding as it always did, the stall door was pushed all the way open and he lead the horse outside and tried to lead him down the aisle, which once again didn’t work very well. Strider had to be told who was boss a time or two with a jerk from the lead line and harsh words, once again in French. Strider danced at the end of his lead, happy to be outside after the night in the stall and it took a while before Sasha finally got him out of the stable and over to the tree that he was known to sit under a good amount of his time, especially with his coffee still in his hand.
Sasha sat under the tree, leaning his back against it, while letting Strider graze, the lead line being carefully held onto. Most people wouldn’t dare to do this, in fact, it was flat out stupid and Sasha would admit it, especially with Strider of all horses, but Sasha definitely had a weak spot for the animal, and one that he would deny if ever confronted with. He adored the animal more than he ever would admit and Strider was pretty much the only reason he was trying as hard as he was to stay out of jail. If he went back the horse would no doubt need to be put down because few other people would want to deal with him. Sure, the last time he went to jail his old boss had taken care of the horse, but he didn’t this Rick would even consider that. So… no jail. All you had to do to make it to Sasha’s good side was compliment the horse and he would automatically like you, and that was saying a lot for the guy who went through a stage of hating everyone he met right away.
Not long after Strider had started grazing Sasha’s eyes had slid closed and he set the coffee down beside him. He was just so tired… it wasn’t long before the wind lulled him off into a very, very light sleep, something that he would be woken from if Strider were to step too closely into his space or someone was to even walk remotely around the area. He was a light sleeper naturally, and sleeping sitting up only made it more so but by now, after about a year and a half of this rough sleeping pattern, Sasha was so tired that any sleep he could get was fine with him, he was going to take it, and that’s what it was like now.
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Post by Sydney Jordan Montgomery on Jul 1, 2010 1:21:38 GMT -6
Horses were said to bring out the best in people, and these days, it was certainly true for a certain young lady and her partner in crime, but it certainly hadn't always been the case. In fact, just a few years ago, most people would simply cringe when they heard the rodeo announcer say that the next to go in the barrel racing was Sydney Montgomery and her quarter horse Runaway Money. They were practically a disaster in the show ring, and it seemed almost like the horse was intentionally knocking the barrels down. A few times he would throw a complete temper tantrum in the middle of the show, and for absolutely ridiculous reasons too. Sydney found herself sitting in the dirt more often than not as her "arrogant jerk" of a horse galloped off without her, seeming to taunt her with his inability to get anything better than last.
Now though, the two had seemed to find their chemistry, and once they had done that, they suddenly discovered that shows weren't quite so stressful after all. As soon as they started working together and the fighting with one another stopped, it was like a cool fresh wind blew in and the could finally get somewhere. Then again... Sydney was restless. She'd been there and done that with every show in the area. She'd beat all the local competitors, and it wasn't a challenge anymore. So she packed what little belongings she needed into her truck along with the dog and the old barn cat that Monty was so attached to, loaded the horse in the trailer, and set out for bigger and better things.
For a while she practically lived in that truck, boarding at fairgrounds and rodeo grounds between moves. Most nights she spent curled up on the back seat of her truck with Gyp in the front passenger seat, and Taz and Monty comfortably in a stall wherever they stopped for the night. She was a relatively self sufficient person, and needed very little to be happy. On top of that she was very orderly and tidy, so no one would have guessed at the number of nights spent like that. She had her tack and food for the dog and cat in the trailer's tack room, a suitcase of show clothes and a suitcase of regular every day clothes in the bed of the truck, and a few other miscellaneous items in the truck with her, and she was perfectly happy.
For the past two years she had been moving all around the country in this manner before it finally got a little tiring and she decided she needed a vacation from her constant migration and settled on a little place outside of Chicago where she was sure Monty would have the best care. The best part about being the only daughter and only remaining family of one of the most successful cattle companies in Texas was that she never needed to worry about finances. Of course, she did her best to cover all the costs herself, but working for a month or two at a time bar tending then moving on really didn't make much money, and the barrel races didn't pay out all that much at this point in her career, so she did rely on her dad a bit for the board and vet bills and all that.
Today was the first day of her second week at Caramel Rivers, though she really hadn't been around the barn a whole heck of a lot since she had been busy out securing herself a job for the next however long she decided to stay. Today though, she was planning on spending as much time as she possibly could with Monty, to make up for her "absence" the past week. To her, Monty wasn't just a horse, he was her companion and her friend, and even though she knew horses didn't actually operate like that, she always felt guilty for spending time away from him. So, of course, she was up early and ready to go in no time. It didn't take her long to get to the stable from her apartment. That was one thing she liked about this place. It was so small and you could get just about anywhere you needed to go within 20 minutes. Much more convenient than some places she had been where you had to drive a half hour just to get somewhere.
Upon arrival at the barn, she was greeted with the routine hearty nicker from her horse as she reached his stall. He promptly thrust his head out of the stall and pressed his muzzle into her hands, sighing heavily as if relieved that she was "finally" here. Hey baby. she crooned to the horse softly as she reached up to trace the star on his forehead. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere. she added before stepping away from the sorrel horse and heading for the tack room to retrieve her brushes and such. She took the best possible care of that horse, and odds were there had rarely ever been a snarl in his mane or in his tail for long before she had it out, and God forbid that he ever be caked in mud or overly dusty. He was possibly one of the cleanest horses in existence.
She was back at his stall moments later and slipped inside, moving over to his side to begin the process of removing every particle of dust or loose hair from his short sleek coat. He stood perfectly still throughout the process, resting a back leg, letting his eyes drift partially closed, and his lower lip droop lazily. Needless to say he rather enjoyed all the pampering he got from Sydney. He was her prince, and she definitely treated him like one. No, she couldn't afford to get him all those things the wealthy people got for their horses, and she really couldn't afford the best possible care for him... but she did her absolute best to make sure he had everything he needed and was treated as well as he possibly could be. Her dad always helped out with the bills and whatnot, but she hated asking him for money, even though he had plenty.
When she had satisfactorily groomed him to perfection, she slipped out of the stall, returned the brushes to their designated spot, and grabbed his bridle before returning to him. She slid the bit between his lips and behind his teeth, fastening the headstall securely, then lead him out of the stall behind her. Once the pair was out of the barn, Sydney lead him up to a mounting block and hopped on him bareback. He fidgeted slightly as she settled onto his back, but other than that there was very little reaction. She turned him in a tight circle and then headed him down towards the pastures. He walked with his eyes wide and ears pricked forward in a rather long and enthusiastic stride. Monty never cared where they went or what they did when they went out, he just loved to go out and do whatever Sydney wanted him to do.
Not long after getting on, she noticed a horse that appeared to be just out grazing on its own... loose. She hadn't really been here long enough to see what people thought about loose horses, but she had found it to be generally frowned upon. Not wanting to make a fool of herself by reporting a loose horse just to find out that it was always allowed out, she headed Monty for the other animal, just to see if perhaps he was picketed to the tree or something like that. She was nearly to the tree when Monty suddenly stopped and huffed nervously. She couldn't see what Monty was so worried about, and urged him forward. Being a willing horse, he continued forward, but downright refused to get closer to the tree, ignoring her outside leg and moving kind of in a circle around the tree until they were in a position where Sydney could finally see what was bothering him.
The horse evidently wasn't loose, as the lead rope was held in the hand of a man who looked asleep. Not to be bothered with it, she attempted to turn Monty away, but like any young horse would, he was stuck on the fear in his mind of that human "crouching down in the grass" and wouldn't take his eye off him. They really weren't all that close, but it was pretty obvious that Monty didn't want to go any closer or look away, and try as she might, nothing she did was going to get him to change his mind. [/size]
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Post by Alexander "Sasha" Cole on Jul 12, 2010 22:27:50 GMT -6
Every time Sasha managed to get to sleep he always wished it was an easier thing to do. He didn’t feel as weak and tired and felt as if all of his energy wasn’t being used just to stay as damn alert as he always was. Between being raised as a military brat, spending time in a gang and in prison he may as well have eyes in the back of his head now. Everything caught his attention and kept him on edge. He figured that was why he was good with horses, though. Everyone knew they were unpredictable animals so being able to notice and read the possible signs of spooking and prepare himself for it or sometimes even prevent it from happening. It may his job much easier since he worked with the green animals who have never seen a jump or a deer out on the cross country course. However, this awareness made it difficult for him to spread his attention over many things when he was as tired as he generally was. This is why, while he could train a horse with the best of them, he wasn’t one to show. His position mattered little to him, as long as the horse knew what to expect when the show rider was going to get on him.
Sasha, as well, was fairly new to the stable. People generally knew him by his dog, who was overly friendly and was currently somewhere in the stable, probably bothering some poor stable hand trying to get their work done before the crowd of people came in for the morning. Strider, however, was also fairly well known. How often do you see a large Percheron cross that goes slightly crazy all the time? Those around the barn quickly learned that Strider was not a horse you bothered with. Sasha would be there to tend the animal and that would be easier for him if you would just leave the stallion alone from the beginning. Sasha had a sign on the stall door and the pasture gate advising people against trying to pet the animal and Strider was never allowed to put his head outside of the stall because he would bite or spook if someone came too close. And this was Strider being better. That’s right; the horse had gotten better since Sasha had started working with him so as long as progress was being made it wasn’t a lost cause… right?
Now, though, he couldn’t care less about Strider’s unpredictability and dangerous nature or Kira’s obsession with anyone he could possibly get to pet her. No, now the only thing on his mind was the fact that he could barely keep his eyes open. Too bad that he knew as well as the next guy that if he had stayed in bed he wouldn’t have slept at all, but somehow he could here, leaning up against a tree with a 2000 pound animal less than five feet away from him. Yeah, that sounded normal, right? At least it was only a light sleep, but who could sleep deeply in his current position? It wasn’t exactly comfortable and if he stayed like this for too long there was no doubt a nice kink in his neck would follow, and he knew it as well as anyone. Then again, Sasha was no stranger to soreness. We’ve been over the fact that Sasha worked with green horses, falling happened and with falling came soreness, as did riding in general, of course.
Either way, it didn’t matter because Sasha’s nap didn’t last too long. Not more than five minutes after he dosed off he felt Strider’s head jerk up and he immediately, almost in his sleep, tightened his grasp around the lead rope and looked up with his slate eyes. Strider had looked up when he heard another horse coming near him and then worried at the female riding him, he could only assume. About ready to stand up, just in case Strider did decide to spook, but before he could he heard the clinks of a dog’s tags on their collar and turned to see Kira trotting, having found a stick and was hoping to get some fetch in. First, she jogged up to the sorrel and his rider before Sasha reprimanded her in French and she moved over to him as he used Strider’s lead as something to pull himself up with. “Sorry about her, she just really friendly,” he said, scratching her behind the ear as he said it.
“And him,” Sasha said, obviously tired, as he jerked his head towards the stallion as he also choked up on the lead, “but did you need something?” he finally asked, leaning his weight back against the tree as Strider snorted and took a step closer to his human, but still at a decent distance. Sasha was very firm with horses and being in his personal space. He got tired of being pushed and stepped on quickly, and he wasn’t about to allow that. Then there was still the fact that horses who did that went down in value and since it was his job to bring up their value he felt he may as well teach his horses some manners. He ran a hand over his face to try and wake himself up a bit. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be here so early,” he finally said, bringing his head away from the animals around his feet and up to her for the first time.
Ok, he had to admit that she was attractive and the horse didn’t look too bad either. Not the type of horse he was used to, but he still enjoyed the quarter horses out there. They always seemed to be such great horses. Well, that or horrible because people always got a quarter horse as their first and let them get away with everything, but that was beside the point. Needless to say, Sasha wouldn’t mind getting to know this girl better. “I haven’t seen you around here before, you new?” he asked, pushing away from the tree and standing straight, as he always did (thank his father), but not moving any closer since he did have the stallion at the end of the lead, even though he had gone back to grazing, though still with his ears perked up and eating much slower now that someone else was around.
((sorry, it's crap, I was really tired lol))
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Post by Sydney Jordan Montgomery on Jul 29, 2010 22:44:02 GMT -6
Daddy seriously... unless you want to kill Mr. Peters which would lead to him not buying our beef, us not getting the money, and the whole ranch going down the drain, you'll let me do the cooking. Yes, ten year old Sydney was playing house again... only for Sydney, it wasn't just playing, it was reality. Life had been rough in the past few years with the beef market raking in fewer and fewer dollars per farm due to a massive overload of cattle ranches. This was their big break though, Mr. Peters was the owner and manager of one of the country's largest slaughterhouses and beef product distributors, and he was expressing interest in buying their cattle, and would be coming tonight for dinner and a "chat" about pricing and all that good stuff. Unfortunately, Sydney's dad had never been able to cook anything without someone getting sick from it. Some men just don't have the touch.
Sydney I think I can handle it. He responded, looking down at the girl who stood there with a very matter of fact expression on her face, one hand on her hip, and the other held out towards him in a way that demanded the spatula he held in his hand. Oh I'm sure you can handle it, but I don't think there's a human alive whose stomach could... She said in that smart ass "I'm know I'm right" ten year old way, then glanced over at their old hound dog, and pointed to the animal, Even Harley wouldn't eat those rocks... I mean "biscuits" that you made last time. Of course he couldn't argue with that, and with a laugh handed her the spatula and made his exit. His little girl was going to make some man a great wife someday... but they'd have to come through fire and brimstone to take her away from him.
Now here she was some 12 years later, on her own... mostly. No man had taken her away, just the open road and that thing they called rodeo. She wasn't really living the high life, but at least she was living. Don't get me wrong, she had loved living on the ranch with her dad, but the older she got the more she just wanted to get out there and experience things. She never would have imagined herself ending up in a place like this. For the most part she stayed at fairgrounds and small old dusty barns that were comprised of mostly western riders. Caramel Rivers was a totally different story. She'd hardly seen another western rider in her short time here, and the place was always clean and tidy. She really didn't seem to fit in here wearing her dusty worn out jeans and the casual western shirts, her plain bridle and hefty western saddle while most everyone else was wearing tight fitting breeches and polos with their "fancy" english bridles and light weight saddles... but she had absolutely no problem with standing out like a sore thumb.
Monty had his attention so fixed on the human "crouched" in the grass in the shadow of the tree that he didn't even see the dog coming until it was nearly on him, and just about gave himself a heart attack. His hooves flew out in all directions as he backed up hastily, his big brown eyes wide. He snorted fearfully, glancing between the man and his horse and the dog that had come towards him then hastily retreated. These sorts of antics were ones Sydney was all too used to. Having been his sole rider for as long as Monty had been around, she knew him well, and knew that he wasn't really afraid, he was just being a young high strung sport horse and trying to get away with things. She didn't doubt that he'd been startled by the dog since he hadn't been paying attention, but he was definitely overreacting. He'd been around dogs his whole life and had no reason to be afraid of them.
She simply dug her heels into his ribs and gave a light but firm jerk on the reins reminding him that he wasn't allowed to act like an idiot and get away with it. His ears swiveled back towards her then pricked forward again, but he relaxed a little and huffed heavily. It was soooo hard to be a horse who was nothing but pampered day in and day out... really, he lived such a tragic life. She shook her head slightly at the first question. She didn't need anything... just for her horse to stop acting like a fool. "No, sorry... he got it in his head that you were out to get him is all." She said each word, not with edge but with an obvious hint of annoyance. He was like a little kid most of the time, and although Sydney loved him to death he could regularly drive her insane, and he knew it all too well.
I've been here about a week... she added in response to his final question, keeping most of her focus on her horse, but dividing a slight portion towards him. She was good at multi-tasking, she had to be, practically running a ranch at such a young age. Sure, her dad was a great businessman and a fabulous rancher... but he was a man, and men were quite well known for not looking after the details and little dust bunnies would form in all the nooks and crannies. That was where Sydney had come in. Making sure everyone looked presentable (at least partially) when investors would come calling, ensuring that everyone was fed and well hydrated during the hot summer days, reminding everyone of important dates they were liable to forget of nothing was said, taking care of orphaned calves and nursing sick horses, cows, dogs and whatever other animals were on the property. Things would easily go overlooked without a woman around to make sure things went smoothly.
There wasn't a whole lot she couldn't do if she put her mind to it, and she had to thank her poor excuse of a mother for that. If she hadn't left, Sydney probably never would have become who she was now. She loved her dad, but lets face it, a rough and rowdy rancher didn't have a clue how to raise a five year old girl. If she'd been a boy it would have been a different story entirely... but since she wasn't, she did most of the "raising" on her own and turned out to be a head strong, independent, and very willful young woman. There was really no need to worry about her, she could get on just fine on her own. [/size]
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Post by Alexander "Sasha" Cole on Aug 22, 2010 0:13:29 GMT -6
Sasha was well aware of the inherent differences between men and women. Between hormones and different wiring in the brain, men and women were just different, not one being better than the other, but just different. Men were generally better at science and math, they generally made better bosses because they could see the whole picture and didn’t get worked up on details, they were more spacial and had an easier time spending long periods of time doing one thing (hence why more men play video games). Women, on the other hand, generally were better in reading and vocabulary, probably because they were also detail oriented and could see the small parts of words to figure out what they mean or the pick out the stupid details that people put into reading tests. They were also better tat multitasking, generally speaking. Of course, all of these were simple generalizations and didn’t cover everyone, but if you took a world poll you would find this to be true. Sure, feminists would argue that it was the way men and women were raised and all that, but they would also be wrong.
Now, that being said, and Sasha knowing that, did not change the fact that he also got insanely annoyed when people would try to explain away things using the idea that men and women were just different. Sure, even with his OCD he never bothered with the cobwebs in the corners and couldn’t care less when it came to the way he looked. He often forgot to bring himself a water bottle (though never forgot to let the horse stop for a drink) and would look in his cupboard in the morning only to realize he had absolutely nothing to eat in his apartment, and he couldn’t cook, though he never tried either. Yeah, sure stuff fell through the cracks, that being said, he didn’t say that was because he was male, that was just who he was. Everything around him was also always in its place. The horses he rode were never dirty and his job was the deal with scared and confused animals. He had nursed Kira back to health after he found her bleeding and dying on the beach (with the help of a vet, of course) and the woman he had been with at the time wanted to leave the poor animal there to suffer. All in all, most people would agree it depended on the individual person. There were plenty of very successful women CEOs and men were generally the ones to be janitors, even thought cleaning and that sort of detail work was generally considered womanly work. Men and women were different, sure, testosterone and estrogen did vastly different things to the body, but every person was also an individual and Sasha, for one, couldn’t stand being just shoved into a group, and he had been his whole life.
From the time he was a kid Sasha had been stereotyped and he managed to get tired of it by the second time he got out of jail. First, he was an army brat, then the new kid, then the druggie followed by a gang member, the last of which followed him to jail. Now he was an ex-con to those who knew about his past and to those who didn’t he was “the strong silent type”. Sure, stereotypes came from somewhere, we all know that, but he hated the idea that people who knew nothing about him assumed they knew how he was going to act. Sure, they could sometimes be right, sometimes he surprised them.
Right now, though, he wasn’t really thinking about that. Instead he was taken aback by the woman on the horse and her ability to control the animal. “I’m impressed,” he said, running a hand through his always messy hair as she managed to get the horse to calm down under him. When she spoke again he smirked and gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. Ah, the horses and the “they’re gonna eat me!” idea. Most horses went through that phase, he had found in his time training. Then there were the horses with the “I know it’s not scary, but I’m gonna spook anyway” phase, and that was the one that drove him crazy because you could never predict those horses. Strider had finally gotten over that phase, now, instead, he actually was just scared of almost everything. Luckily, though, the horse had been moved around a bit with Sasha so he wasn’t like some of the young horses he had worked with who hadn’t seen more than the inside of one pasture their whole life. That was always fun.
“Horses do that,” he finally answered as he felt Strider’s head jerk up as he looked up towards a squirrel in the tree above Sasha’s head. Once he decided it wasn’t that scary he went back to his grazing and Sasha rolled his slate colored eyes. He could tell she wasn’t paying too much attention to the conversation, which did bother him a bit. Didn’t we just go over how women were supposed to be the better multitaskers? However, he did understand the need to pay attention to the horse so wasn’t going to let it bother him too much. He also wasn’t going to let her not talk to him; she was too hot for that. Sure, he got enough action working at a horse stable, a vast majority of the people around him were female, but he was always up for talking to the new women. He was a twenty-one year old guy, sue him.
When she said how long she’d been there he nodded and shifted his weight against the tree, still trying to wake himself up slightly. “So what are you doing out here so early? Most people around here don’t even get up until noon,” he said, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. And there he was, an insomniac who slept when and where he could. Hell, people have found him sleeping on the couch in the lobby all the time. “Oh, I’m Sasha, this is Strider and Kira,” he continued, motioning to his horse and dog in turn. “I’m a horse trainer here, been here for a few months I guess,” he shrugged once again, pushing himself away from the tree he was standing on to take a step closer to the female and her gelding, slowly bringing his hand up to the horse’s neck and gently patting the animal.
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Post by Sydney Jordan Montgomery on Aug 23, 2010 22:10:08 GMT -6
People being impressed with Sydney's ability to control her young horse was not an uncommon thing, and she didn't really understand why. Hell she'd been riding her whole life, why shouldn't she be capable of handling her own horse? She didn't take offense though, why should she? She was one of those girls who did, in fact, enjoy the limelight. That was why she was so good at what she did, her drive to be the best at it kept her improving every day. If she had her way, she'd be one of the best in a few years when Monty matured more and she had enough money saved up to invest in the big time shows. For now though, her low income kept her grounded at local shows which received little, if any at all, on the national level.
As Monty settled, Sydney shifted a bit more attention to the man and his horse slowly. Occasionally Monty would settle then explode again, but she had a feeling that this time he would be alright and she was safe to not pay quite as much attention to him now. He was definitely attractive, something that was mandatory in Sydney's mind. She would much rather be attracted to the men she spoke to than to not be. After all, if you had to look at someone it was always nice if they weren't an eyesore. She couldn't help that she was picky... it just happened. The fact that he was clearly into horses was a good thing too. Considering her love affair with horses, most men she had been with didn't understand her obsession and were cynical of her, but a man who was as into horses as her would be much more accepting.
She would never claim to really understand men... but she was very tolerant of them. She had been pretty much raised around all men, considering 99% of her dad's employees were of the male species, and that 1% that wasn't male was Sydney. It had always been said of her that she was "born and raised a b*tch," and she was proud of that. Even as a little girl, boy you didn't get in the way of her. She had this uncanny way of always getting what she wanted, and no one was willing to take on the challenge of denying her that. When her mom had left, when Sydney was only six years old, it had changed the little girl. In a way she was angry, but mostly just confused. After that it was like there was the will of a stubborn woman in her mid twenties possessing the body of a six year old child.
A few days after her mom had left, Sydney and her dad had been on their way to the rodeo, and she could tell he had something on his mind. Finally when they pulled to a stop in the parking lot, he turned towards her and started talking about how things were going to be different now that her mom was gone and wasn't coming back. But Sydney, it seemed, had gotten over the abandonment, and put her finger to her dad's lips in the sort of serious way only a six year old could, and said "I know daddy. It's okay." and then hopped out of the truck without another word. It flabbergasted her dad how well she was taking this, but everyone very quickly got used to Sydney's amazing ability to move on. That girl was more independent at six than most adults were at 20.
She shook her head slightly when he said most people didn't even get up until noon. I hate wasting time. She said with a shrug, and Monty isn't patient, he'd never let me hear the end of it if I didn't show up until noon. It was true. The longer the horse had to wait for her to show up, the more ornery he got when she did come take him out, and was more likely to do everything he possibly could to buck her off. The horse had an attitude to be reckoned with, and Sydney always did her best to keep him happy so that he would behave when she was riding him. A lot of people wouldn't put up with all the little nit picky quirks he had, but Sydney loved him and would never part with him so long as she could manage.
Nice to meet you, she added somewhat pleasantly, I'm Sydney. Naturally, because she was attracted to him she was being much more agreeable than she typically was with most people. She would have moved on long before he could have gotten his introduction out if she didn't want to stick around and talk to him. He was quite well built, and definitely fell under the category of "tall dark and handsome" which was definitely her preferred look. She was definitely going to stick around here for a while, so long as she was welcome to do so. She was just taking the opportunities handed to her.
You say most people don't even get up until noon... so what's your excuse for being out and about so early? she asked, letting her reins slide through her fingers just slightly as Monty turned his attention to the human standing beside him and bobbed his head slightly. He wasn't the most friendly horse in the world, but like most domesticated animals, he did enjoy attention at least occasionally. She hoped, and assumed from the fact that he had just been out lounging against the tree seeming in no particular hurry, that whatever his reason for being here this morning it wasn't something urgent that he had to do as soon as possible, but if he was indeed called away by whatever duty awaited him, she could always "casually" run into him again later and perhaps talk him into some sort of grand tour of the place. He was practically the first person she had met here, and she was rather intrigued by the fact that he was so good looking. If all the men around here were like him... she just might have to stay here longer than she had in other places. [/size]
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Post by Alexander "Sasha" Cole on Sept 4, 2010 22:10:46 GMT -6
Sasha had found out long ago that growing up quickly wasn’t something to brag about. It wasn’t something to be proud of and it wasn’t a reason to think you were better than anyone else, it was just sad. Growing up too quickly, being independent too quickly carried with it serious problems later in life and anyone who denied such a fact was crazy and any parents who allowed that in their children needed some serious help in their parenting skills and you could ask any psychologist and they would tell you the same. When a kid wasn’t a kid they had to be something else and it carried with it the same issues as when people tried to make their dog or their horse anything but a dog. Sasha, more in his mind than out loud, connected it with people weaning foals at three months. It wasn’t the way nature intended and the horses he had worked with that had been cared for in such a way, which was a lot of them as he worked with abused horses, always had the same set of problems from attachment issues to difficulty following directions, both of which he could see not only in himself, but in the gang members he had basically grown up with. He had issues attaching to people, or anything, and even when he would get attached he would deny it for quite some time. He also hated listening to others because he never had to listen to his parents (well, if he was all right getting beaten that is) and always thought he could figure out a problem on his own. Asking for help, even when he needed it, was never easy. Well, unless he knew what needed to be done was impossible on his own, but that had nothing to do with growing up too quickly. That just proved that Sasha wasn’t insane. He knew he couldn’t watch a horse and be on it at the same time.
Sasha had always learned that being a bitch also wasn’t something to be proud of. He used to be nothing but a dick. Sure, he still thought that a vast majority of the people he met were idiots, but he only actually said anything when the person was especially idiotic and he had been pretty good when it came to hitting people, or even objects, lately as well. He now realized that being a dick didn’t get him anywhere in life, and you never knew who you were talking to or who could hear the conversation. The last thing he wanted was for his boss to be behind him as he really gave it to one of their clients about how they had ruined their horse or get angry with someone for spooking a horse only to be told that that person was a lead trainer in his field. A first impression was something you could never get back and you also never knew when you were giving someone a first impression and yes, networking was very important. Of course, this wasn’t saying that Sasha didn’t have a temper, because he had a fuse about an inch long, but he was trying. Anger management classes and all that, he was kind of forced to try if he ever wanted to be off this damn probation thing.
“Sleeping is hardly wasting time,” Sasha said, very matter-of-factly. He knew this for more of a fact than most people knew, he didn’t get sleep, or at least not enough of it to always keep his body running normally. His muscled ached, his eyes blurred and his brain went in and out of thought. If he could sleep until noon, he would in a heartbeat, but seeing as he couldn’t even sleep until five most mornings that was hoping for just a little too much. “He’s convinced I need to be available for his needs at all times,” Sasha said, moving his foot over to Strider’s nose at the ground. Strider remained unfazed. The stallion really did require a lot of his owner. The separation issues alone were enough to drive anyone to find another solution for the animal, much less the size and the fact that he was a stallion. Granted, he did have a job for which Sasha got a good amount of his income from. Breeding the stallion to thoroughbred mares are proving to make some nice looking babies, some of which Sasha was hoping to see up for his training in the future.
Sasha just nodded when she gave her name. Sydney, not bad by all means. Better than Buffy, a girl he had dated a while back, to say the least. Why the hell was he sitting her critiquing her name? Probably just because his had been such an issue for him his whole life and he did get tired of informing people of power (generally judges, in his case) that he was Sasha and not Alex or Alexander. Still, names generally weren’t something he found himself thinking about too much but hell, he had only just woken up. Sasha was getting quite a bit better at being pleasant to everyone he first met, but he had never had an issue with that when it came to girls he was attracted to. Come on, only girls with no self esteem would sleep with a guy who was nothing but mean to them and those girls were no fun to sleep with, as he had found out in the past.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he answered simply, with a shrug of his shoulders. Sure, he could go into the whole insomnia shit, but why they hell would she care? That was also a sign of intelligence, or something like that, just knowing when the other person didn’t care. “Well, not in my apartment, apparently. Against a tree I seem to have no issues,” he shrugged again. Sure, it was meant as a bit of a joke, however, he did not laugh or even smile, he was just telling the truth. “I live on property, so there’s really no reason not to come on out,” he explained, knowing that most people who didn’t sleep wouldn’t think to go to work but instead to sit around the house and watch television or make themselves a nice breakfast, but that was a waste of time to Sasha, so he figured he may as well mention it. “So, before I can fall asleep again, I’m going to grab one of my projects and take him out on the trails. You’re welcome to join, since you don’t seem to be doing anything else,” he couldn’t help but give her a... flirtatious wasn’t quite the right word, but neither was teasing. The look he gave was something between the two and stood up straight, as he always did, waiting for her response, slate eyes never leaving hers… or at least her body. He hardly wanted to just ride away from a girl so nice on the eyes who could actually ride.
((bleh, not my favorite, but... I'm tired! lol))
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Post by Sydney Jordan Montgomery on Sept 10, 2010 23:51:28 GMT -6
On the subject of sleep not being a waste of time, Sydney could have argued, but decided against it. Certainly a certain amount of sleep wasn't a waste of time, but there came a point where sleeping all day would definitely waste time. She chose not to say anything though, since she had decided some time ago that arguing over such trivial things tended to work against her flirtatious intentions. She just couldn't help it when she was around guys like him. Confident, good looking, horse savvy... he basically had all her "must have's" covered as far as first impressions went. Oh sure, she didn't care that much about those sorts of things in the first impressions for the guys she met at the bar or in the clubs, but when it came to the men around the barn who she had to see on a regular basis and would want to have some sort of relationship with, it definitely mattered.
She smirked slightly when he said that the horse had gotten it in his head that he needed to have Sasha there at all times. So he was caring and attentive too... was there any quality of the "perfect man" he didn't have? Okay so a lot of guys could be attentive to their horses and not to women, but in Sydney's opinion it was equally important to be aware of a horse's needs, and typically people who were caring towards horses were caring towards people as well. She had to admit it was a good looking stallion he had there, though he wouldn't be much good for the sort of things western riders like herself partook in... but that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate the horse for what it was. She had nothing against English riders, and she was all too aware of the skill it took to do what they did.
She wasn't entirely sure what to think of his last statement regarding her not doing anything. She was, until her horse decided that his interest was more important than what she wanted. She wasn't offended by the comment though, he made it relatively clear that he meant nothing offensive by it. It seemed almost partially teasing... or flirting if you will, and she was by all means okay with that, after all, what good was flirting with a guy if you got none in return? Her response was, without a doubt yes, but she knew better than to just blurt out a yes in response to an invitation like that. This was a two person game, after all, if she just followed his lead like a lost child it definitely wouldn't be much fun for either of them.
"What makes you think I'm not doing anything?" she challenged with a hint of mock offense, "After all, you're the one who was sleeping while I was riding." Of course, there was always the chance that he wasn't a fan of those sorts of responses and would come back with something along the lines of "suit yourself" or what have you, to which she always had a hard time coming up with another response for. She didn't want to come off as desperate or anything, but she didn't want to just give up either. Life was just so darn complicated for young adults, and people always said they had it easy? Okay so maybe that was a little over dramatic, but every girl is allowed to have an occasional over dramatic moment so long as they keep it to themselves.
Sydney rarely, if ever, came across a guy like this one, and she really didn't want him to become just like most of the other guys she'd met who ended up being someone she knew the name of but didn't really know... the sort of person she would see once in a blue moon and just for the briefest moment for a "hey" in the aisle as they walked past one another. He was a rare find, that was for sure. Most of the good looking guys, it seemed, didn't know a damn thing about horses... and the ones who knew about horses were quite a bit older and had thus lost their appeal to her eye. Sure, she was a bit picky, but she was a young and occasionally somewhat reckless cowgirl... could she really be blamed for having a picture of the "ideal man" and not compromising on it? [/size] ((Icky... bad post... and sorry it took so long... cross my heart hope to die stick a needle in my eye the next one will be quicker in coming))
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