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Description

This is the sixth Halloweeny Show

Featuring:
Rider: Jarin Jackson
Horse: 962 WRR Kastell's Abalone
(gasp no pink??? what is happening?)
Class: Supernatural Showdown
Magic: Lumino Spell from the Beaurever breed creates glowy orbs~
With Music!: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q1Bj_-…
(because this was originally just going to be a musical routine xD)
Placed: First

(results posted in show journal)

Follows after:

Justin looked over Sydney . They had shared a lot during the long trip up from Texas back to Missouri. But now the time had come. Sydney had driven straight to Jarin's house. He needed to own up to what he had done. Justin still didn’t understand how he even thought he stood a chance but...the least he could do was apologize before Jarin threw his ass in prison. Justin offered a grin, “You got this bud-” Justin reached across the front seat and turned the key in the ignition and pulled it out. “Seriously?” He had watched Sydney tense up and shift his leg to hit the accelerator. No. No more running. Justin pocketed the key, “Syd, you get yer ass out of this truck and you walk it over there. I mean it, bud. This is the path you’ve chosen. I suggest you start puttin’ one foot in front of the other.”
Sydney grabbed the wheel harder, staring down at it. He didn’t want to face what he had done to Jarin. He didn’t want to see what was left. He could already hear the shouting between the two of them. He was so tired of hearing shouting. It made his heart sink. He looked away from his arms with the scratch marks on them like stigmas he’d have to carry forever as they started forming small scattered scars. He sighed and stepped out of the truck. He had never taken a longer trip around that truck than in the very moment. It felt like it took all morning just to get around and when he saw Jarin, time seemed to stop completely. He was trudging through molasses. Even though the bruises were gone and the cuts healed, he knew where they had been left. Every one of them was like another stab to his gut.
Jarin froze solid. His eyes were open but everything was so blurry or dark or warped but he could hear the sound clearly. Clomp-chink-clomp-chink. The sound of Sydney’s heavy footsteps with the spurs on his boots. His heart beat hard, deep, and fast. A wave of fear crashed over Jarin. He felt like he was being crushed and suffocated by it. He couldn’t have prepared himself for this moment, no matter the pep-talk or advice. Wide-eyed, he looked at Sydney coming for him. He started breathing hard and felt a cold sweat start to form on him. Should he run?
Sydney stopped a ways back. He saw Jarin freeze up and look at him like he had just murdered someone in front of him. He was actually terrified of him… Justin stepped out of the truck too, leaning up on the hood just to observe in case things got out of control. He didn’t think that Jarin would gut the stupid guy and leave him for dead (not that he’d blame Jarin for it of he did), but Justin felt he should be there...to let Jarin know the weak points to stab at first…
Jarin couldn’t find the words to say. He was sure if he did, he would just end up being sick instead. Sydney was in the same boat, just frozen staring ahead at Jarin. Neither one of them knew where to begin or what to do. Neither one of them was prepared to face terror.

Tristan had heard some kind of commotion while he had been in the kitchen. He saw Jarin head for the door and the murmur of voices. Curiosity and a shade of caution led Tristan to the door to investigate before Jarin did something stupid. The moment he stepped outside he caught sight of Sydney, and then the fact that Jarin was cowering away. His temper flared instantly, jaw setting furiously, before he realized that maybe Jarin wouldn’t want to see this. His expression softened as he forced his anger to mitigate for just a moment. “Jarin, just head on inside. Go and get ready to head to the stables.”
Jarin looked to Tristan like a lifeline. A glistening, glowing lifeline. He nodded and ran inside, running into his dog, Griff. The second the door shut behind him, he was on the floor, his knees too shaken to hold him any longer. He doubled over, sobbing loudly. He hadn’t expected to see Sydney so soon. He thought he’d know what to do! Tristan told him what to do and how to handle it but just from the look of him and he lost every thought! Why couldn’t he control it!? Why did he look so sad!? He wasn’t supposed to give Sydney any of his attention! He was a bully! He was a terrible person! He didn’t mean anything! But then why did he come back?

Sydney exhaled and steeled himself over. He knew it was coming, although he didn’t think Tristan would be at Jarin’s house. It was only a matter of time and location. At least this could go down here and not at the stable. He did glance past Tristan to the house, he could hear Jarin in there. Would he ever stop crying? If he could just explain some things to him…
“He fucking loved you Sydney.” Tristan snarled. “Whether you realized it or not. Whether he realized it or not. Whether you even goddamn cared. He saw that ring, you know, your wife's ring. With, Princess, on it. Like it wasn’t bad enough that you used the same pet name for them both, you sick fuck, and you know something. Hm? He thought.” He took a breath for a moment, trying and failing to recompose himself. “Jarin thought that you were going to fucking propose to him.” He growled, stepping up toward him, less than afraid to get up in his space. What the hell could Sydney do about it?
He gave a brief glance to Justin, “Still happy to vouch that your friend isn’t a piece of shit now? That he isn’t one hell of a shit bastard?” He cocked an eyebrow at him questioningly, a chilling half smile appearing on his face for just a moment.
Justin shook his head to Tristan. He had learned a lot about Sydney as of recently. A lot more to process in what he knew about him. He really was such a child. He didn’t even know how he could be helped at this point. He just wanted to clarify where he stood, “No, no, shit bastard. That’s him.”
Justin did sort of feel bad for Sydney. Not in the, ‘forgive him’ manner but more of the ‘tough shit’ manner. All of this could have been avoided with some communication (and anger management of some kind). Why was it so hard to talk about things? Never seemed to stop Justin. He shook his head. He couldn’t offer up any help for his poor friend. This was an ass chewing he needed.
“Now coming back to you, ol’ Sydo, ol’ pal, you shit-faced hick, you…” Tristan unloaded a hand across Sydney’s face viciously “...you are a monumental jackass, with apparently, absolutely no care for anyone. I’m placing bets the only reason you came back is because your buddy here actually did something and told you to. Maybe, somehow, you have a half decent guy for a friend. I’m doubtful that you would even think to come back, yourself.” He snapped, “You know why that is, Syd…? Well, it’s because, Sydney, just in case you couldn’t guess: Jarin blamed, and probably, still blames himself for you acting like an absolute nob. He made it very clear that he thought that it was HIS fault. And who the fuck would cause that if not you? Because let me guess, Sydney. It wasn’t the first time you’d done something like this to him, was it? Maybe not to this extent, but still, this doesn’t just happen. Or maybe it does, you fucking tell me.” He snapped, remaining between Sydney and the door to the apartment.
Sydney was thoroughly boiling by this point. Didn’t care about someone? That’s all he tried to do for the longest time and only got shit on and dragged through hell. To say he absolutely didn’t care for anyone was bullshit. Complete bullshit! Tristan didn’t even know the first thing about him. Tristan wasn’t the one he had any reason to apologize to or explain anything to. The only one that needed any explanation was Jarin. He didn’t owe a goddamn thing to some self-righteous side-bitch that took it upon himself to take the form of some superhero to make himself look better on some high horse like he wasn’t human. Unbelievable.
“But you,” Tristan continued, “You do not get to talk to him, you do not get to even look at him, unless he makes it damn fucking clear to me that he wants you to. Because after everything you’ve done. After everything you have done. You’re not even human. So why should he waste a single millisecond more on you?” He growled spitefully, about to take a step back before he paused, giving a sweet smile as at the same time he drove his knee up between Sydney’s legs. Hard.
Justin was about to break it up. Tristan said what he needed to say. He could see Sydney starting to tense up to retaliate about that slap. He was honestly surprised he got this far without Sydney blowing up on him. This was a good leaving point. “Syd, let’s g- ooooooooooohhhhh…..SHIT!”
Sydney had glanced over just long enough to miss the knee coming at him at high speeds. He never saw it coming. He was on his knees the next second, holding his dick, hunched over onto one hand. Which way was up, why was the world in a hue of pink, he might black out, he honestly couldn’t answer any of those he hurt so bad. He writhed in agony, pounding a fist on the ground. “You cheap-shot asshole!” he snarled.
“And that’s on Jarin’s behalf.” Tristan explained sweet as sugar laced with arsenic. “Because he wouldn’t do that. He’s a nice guy. I have no such qualms.” With that, Tristan stepped back, back toward the door, though he didn’t go inside yet, fully intending to make sure that they cleared off, and didn’t do some stupid break in shit. He wouldn’t put it past Sydney with his fucked up morals.
Justin jogged onto the scene, his cue card was up! Yikes. Well, that escalated! Time for an intervention. He stooped over Sydney, taking his arm, “C’mon. Let’s go. We’re done here.”
Sydney glared at Tristan, “I ain’t done with shit.” He was already seeing red. He was going to pay for that cheap shot!
Justin followed Sydney’s glare over to Tristan and got a wave of goosebumps. He turned back, “Naw, Syd. Not right now. We’re done. Let’s go.” He started tugging Sydney up, unsurprised that he couldn’t really stand on his own. Not after getting his dick blasted to pieces. “C’mon.”
Sydney shoved Justin away, “No! He doesn’t just get to show up and ruin everything I ever had! And I’m just supposed to lay down and take it!?”
Justin sighed, looking away for a second before grabbing Sydney again, “No, you ruined everything you ever had. Be happy this is all he’s done to you. Now, let’s go, ya dumb asshole.”

After Tristan watched Justin stuff the reluctant Texan back into the truck and leave, he finally softened up again, knowing who had heard a lot of what they had said. He turned and entered the house to find Jarin in a state of disarray and tears. “Hey, Jarin.” Tristan said a low, reassuring voice, he wrapped his arms around him comfortingly, pulling him to his chest to try and let Jarin know that he wasn’t totally alone in all of this. “He’s gone, fuck knows where. I told him that he wouldn’t be talking to you unless you actively, really wanted to speak to him.”
He said gently, “You can do this, ok. You can leave him behind. He gives you one sorry look, well, he has every reason to be sorry. That doesn’t mean that you should forgive him for what he did. He needs to pay for it, Jarin. And you should just ignore him. He’ll go away soon enough, just like bullies eventually do.” He murmured into his ear, before patting his back. “Come on, let’s get you going. Aren’t you looking forward to riding Abe?” He offered up with a smile.

Jarin was never a fighter. He didn’t like violence or hurting people. He had become very aware that all of his actions had the potential in doing just that, no matter how hard he tried to prevent it. As of recently, he felt like he was on a battlefield. He couldn’t exactly recall when the war had broken out but there he was, gunfire, cannons, swords, sparks, the ground shaking; he couldn’t tell where he was or where he was going. He was just trying to survive. He never wanted to hurt anyone.

(2182 wordcount)

tldr with with minimal spoilers:
Syd went to Jarin's house
They both spooked
Tristan told him off
Jarin still sads but Abe is gewd <3
(justin was there too~)

Previous: Pas de Trois | Next: Home is Where The Battlefield Is (Sydney POV) / Chasing Shadows (Jarin POV)

PHEW.
Had to push back some other stuff to get this mother done in time! (Yea, I know there's an extension but I don't fly that way xD Deadline or bust.) ((And I have to keep on schedule to get the next chunk of stuff done too <3 )) Started it on my little tablet in Procreate and then migrated some of it to the laptop while I kept working on it at work. :''D TIS DONE.

Anywho, 'tis done and I am happy with it! I wanted to do a pretty Dressage thing with a little more freedom in the scenery! And then it turned into magic soooo Ween is perfect for that! This piece has 500% less ween in the image but all the ween in the story. >: D But it has 900% more details xD (and the grass is uggo but I was crunched for time, be gentle <''3)

OH YEA AND SYD'S BACK AND STUFF~
K, cool~

And ye, Abe does magics btw~

Jarin/Abe/Sydney/Justin/Krissa/Art © Drasayer
Tristan/RP Words © Saoradh
No specific refs used for pony, boi, or lands
Generis googlies of "old time war generals" for outfit and tack inspiration

Procreate/Photoshop CS6

Description

This is the sixth Halloweeny Show

Featuring:
Rider: Jarin Jackson
Horse: 962 WRR Kastell's Abalone
(gasp no pink??? what is happening?)
Class: Supernatural Showdown
Magic: Lumino Spell from the Beaurever breed creates glowy orbs~
With Music!: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q1Bj_-…
(because this was originally just going to be a musical routine xD)
Placed: First

(results posted in show journal)

Follows after:

Justin looked over Sydney . They had shared a lot during the long trip up from Texas back to Missouri. But now the time had come. Sydney had driven straight to Jarin's house. He needed to own up to what he had done. Justin still didn’t understand how he even thought he stood a chance but...the least he could do was apologize before Jarin threw his ass in prison. Justin offered a grin, “You got this bud-” Justin reached across the front seat and turned the key in the ignition and pulled it out. “Seriously?” He had watched Sydney tense up and shift his leg to hit the accelerator. No. No more running. Justin pocketed the key, “Syd, you get yer ass out of this truck and you walk it over there. I mean it, bud. This is the path you’ve chosen. I suggest you start puttin’ one foot in front of the other.”
Sydney grabbed the wheel harder, staring down at it. He didn’t want to face what he had done to Jarin. He didn’t want to see what was left. He could already hear the shouting between the two of them. He was so tired of hearing shouting. It made his heart sink. He looked away from his arms with the scratch marks on them like stigmas he’d have to carry forever as they started forming small scattered scars. He sighed and stepped out of the truck. He had never taken a longer trip around that truck than in the very moment. It felt like it took all morning just to get around and when he saw Jarin, time seemed to stop completely. He was trudging through molasses. Even though the bruises were gone and the cuts healed, he knew where they had been left. Every one of them was like another stab to his gut.
Jarin froze solid. His eyes were open but everything was so blurry or dark or warped but he could hear the sound clearly. Clomp-chink-clomp-chink. The sound of Sydney’s heavy footsteps with the spurs on his boots. His heart beat hard, deep, and fast. A wave of fear crashed over Jarin. He felt like he was being crushed and suffocated by it. He couldn’t have prepared himself for this moment, no matter the pep-talk or advice. Wide-eyed, he looked at Sydney coming for him. He started breathing hard and felt a cold sweat start to form on him. Should he run?
Sydney stopped a ways back. He saw Jarin freeze up and look at him like he had just murdered someone in front of him. He was actually terrified of him… Justin stepped out of the truck too, leaning up on the hood just to observe in case things got out of control. He didn’t think that Jarin would gut the stupid guy and leave him for dead (not that he’d blame Jarin for it of he did), but Justin felt he should be there...to let Jarin know the weak points to stab at first…
Jarin couldn’t find the words to say. He was sure if he did, he would just end up being sick instead. Sydney was in the same boat, just frozen staring ahead at Jarin. Neither one of them knew where to begin or what to do. Neither one of them was prepared to face terror.

Tristan had heard some kind of commotion while he had been in the kitchen. He saw Jarin head for the door and the murmur of voices. Curiosity and a shade of caution led Tristan to the door to investigate before Jarin did something stupid. The moment he stepped outside he caught sight of Sydney, and then the fact that Jarin was cowering away. His temper flared instantly, jaw setting furiously, before he realized that maybe Jarin wouldn’t want to see this. His expression softened as he forced his anger to mitigate for just a moment. “Jarin, just head on inside. Go and get ready to head to the stables.”
Jarin looked to Tristan like a lifeline. A glistening, glowing lifeline. He nodded and ran inside, running into his dog, Griff. The second the door shut behind him, he was on the floor, his knees too shaken to hold him any longer. He doubled over, sobbing loudly. He hadn’t expected to see Sydney so soon. He thought he’d know what to do! Tristan told him what to do and how to handle it but just from the look of him and he lost every thought! Why couldn’t he control it!? Why did he look so sad!? He wasn’t supposed to give Sydney any of his attention! He was a bully! He was a terrible person! He didn’t mean anything! But then why did he come back?

Sydney exhaled and steeled himself over. He knew it was coming, although he didn’t think Tristan would be at Jarin’s house. It was only a matter of time and location. At least this could go down here and not at the stable. He did glance past Tristan to the house, he could hear Jarin in there. Would he ever stop crying? If he could just explain some things to him…
“He fucking loved you Sydney.” Tristan snarled. “Whether you realized it or not. Whether he realized it or not. Whether you even goddamn cared. He saw that ring, you know, your wife's ring. With, Princess, on it. Like it wasn’t bad enough that you used the same pet name for them both, you sick fuck, and you know something. Hm? He thought.” He took a breath for a moment, trying and failing to recompose himself. “Jarin thought that you were going to fucking propose to him.” He growled, stepping up toward him, less than afraid to get up in his space. What the hell could Sydney do about it?
He gave a brief glance to Justin, “Still happy to vouch that your friend isn’t a piece of shit now? That he isn’t one hell of a shit bastard?” He cocked an eyebrow at him questioningly, a chilling half smile appearing on his face for just a moment.
Justin shook his head to Tristan. He had learned a lot about Sydney as of recently. A lot more to process in what he knew about him. He really was such a child. He didn’t even know how he could be helped at this point. He just wanted to clarify where he stood, “No, no, shit bastard. That’s him.”
Justin did sort of feel bad for Sydney. Not in the, ‘forgive him’ manner but more of the ‘tough shit’ manner. All of this could have been avoided with some communication (and anger management of some kind). Why was it so hard to talk about things? Never seemed to stop Justin. He shook his head. He couldn’t offer up any help for his poor friend. This was an ass chewing he needed.
“Now coming back to you, ol’ Sydo, ol’ pal, you shit-faced hick, you…” Tristan unloaded a hand across Sydney’s face viciously “...you are a monumental jackass, with apparently, absolutely no care for anyone. I’m placing bets the only reason you came back is because your buddy here actually did something and told you to. Maybe, somehow, you have a half decent guy for a friend. I’m doubtful that you would even think to come back, yourself.” He snapped, “You know why that is, Syd…? Well, it’s because, Sydney, just in case you couldn’t guess: Jarin blamed, and probably, still blames himself for you acting like an absolute nob. He made it very clear that he thought that it was HIS fault. And who the fuck would cause that if not you? Because let me guess, Sydney. It wasn’t the first time you’d done something like this to him, was it? Maybe not to this extent, but still, this doesn’t just happen. Or maybe it does, you fucking tell me.” He snapped, remaining between Sydney and the door to the apartment.
Sydney was thoroughly boiling by this point. Didn’t care about someone? That’s all he tried to do for the longest time and only got shit on and dragged through hell. To say he absolutely didn’t care for anyone was bullshit. Complete bullshit! Tristan didn’t even know the first thing about him. Tristan wasn’t the one he had any reason to apologize to or explain anything to. The only one that needed any explanation was Jarin. He didn’t owe a goddamn thing to some self-righteous side-bitch that took it upon himself to take the form of some superhero to make himself look better on some high horse like he wasn’t human. Unbelievable.
“But you,” Tristan continued, “You do not get to talk to him, you do not get to even look at him, unless he makes it damn fucking clear to me that he wants you to. Because after everything you’ve done. After everything you have done. You’re not even human. So why should he waste a single millisecond more on you?” He growled spitefully, about to take a step back before he paused, giving a sweet smile as at the same time he drove his knee up between Sydney’s legs. Hard.
Justin was about to break it up. Tristan said what he needed to say. He could see Sydney starting to tense up to retaliate about that slap. He was honestly surprised he got this far without Sydney blowing up on him. This was a good leaving point. “Syd, let’s g- ooooooooooohhhhh…..SHIT!”
Sydney had glanced over just long enough to miss the knee coming at him at high speeds. He never saw it coming. He was on his knees the next second, holding his dick, hunched over onto one hand. Which way was up, why was the world in a hue of pink, he might black out, he honestly couldn’t answer any of those he hurt so bad. He writhed in agony, pounding a fist on the ground. “You cheap-shot asshole!” he snarled.
“And that’s on Jarin’s behalf.” Tristan explained sweet as sugar laced with arsenic. “Because he wouldn’t do that. He’s a nice guy. I have no such qualms.” With that, Tristan stepped back, back toward the door, though he didn’t go inside yet, fully intending to make sure that they cleared off, and didn’t do some stupid break in shit. He wouldn’t put it past Sydney with his fucked up morals.
Justin jogged onto the scene, his cue card was up! Yikes. Well, that escalated! Time for an intervention. He stooped over Sydney, taking his arm, “C’mon. Let’s go. We’re done here.”
Sydney glared at Tristan, “I ain’t done with shit.” He was already seeing red. He was going to pay for that cheap shot!
Justin followed Sydney’s glare over to Tristan and got a wave of goosebumps. He turned back, “Naw, Syd. Not right now. We’re done. Let’s go.” He started tugging Sydney up, unsurprised that he couldn’t really stand on his own. Not after getting his dick blasted to pieces. “C’mon.”
Sydney shoved Justin away, “No! He doesn’t just get to show up and ruin everything I ever had! And I’m just supposed to lay down and take it!?”
Justin sighed, looking away for a second before grabbing Sydney again, “No, you ruined everything you ever had. Be happy this is all he’s done to you. Now, let’s go, ya dumb asshole.”

After Tristan watched Justin stuff the reluctant Texan back into the truck and leave, he finally softened up again, knowing who had heard a lot of what they had said. He turned and entered the house to find Jarin in a state of disarray and tears. “Hey, Jarin.” Tristan said a low, reassuring voice, he wrapped his arms around him comfortingly, pulling him to his chest to try and let Jarin know that he wasn’t totally alone in all of this. “He’s gone, fuck knows where. I told him that he wouldn’t be talking to you unless you actively, really wanted to speak to him.”
He said gently, “You can do this, ok. You can leave him behind. He gives you one sorry look, well, he has every reason to be sorry. That doesn’t mean that you should forgive him for what he did. He needs to pay for it, Jarin. And you should just ignore him. He’ll go away soon enough, just like bullies eventually do.” He murmured into his ear, before patting his back. “Come on, let’s get you going. Aren’t you looking forward to riding Abe?” He offered up with a smile.

Jarin was never a fighter. He didn’t like violence or hurting people. He had become very aware that all of his actions had the potential in doing just that, no matter how hard he tried to prevent it. As of recently, he felt like he was on a battlefield. He couldn’t exactly recall when the war had broken out but there he was, gunfire, cannons, swords, sparks, the ground shaking; he couldn’t tell where he was or where he was going. He was just trying to survive. He never wanted to hurt anyone.

(2182 wordcount)

tldr with with minimal spoilers:
Syd went to Jarin's house
They both spooked
Tristan told him off
Jarin still sads but Abe is gewd <3
(justin was there too~)

Previous: Pas de Trois | Next: Home is Where The Battlefield Is (Sydney POV) / Chasing Shadows (Jarin POV)

PHEW.
Had to push back some other stuff to get this mother done in time! (Yea, I know there's an extension but I don't fly that way xD Deadline or bust.) ((And I have to keep on schedule to get the next chunk of stuff done too <3 )) Started it on my little tablet in Procreate and then migrated some of it to the laptop while I kept working on it at work. :''D TIS DONE.

Anywho, 'tis done and I am happy with it! I wanted to do a pretty Dressage thing with a little more freedom in the scenery! And then it turned into magic soooo Ween is perfect for that! This piece has 500% less ween in the image but all the ween in the story. >: D But it has 900% more details xD (and the grass is uggo but I was crunched for time, be gentle <''3)

OH YEA AND SYD'S BACK AND STUFF~
K, cool~

And ye, Abe does magics btw~

Jarin/Abe/Sydney/Justin/Krissa/Art © Drasayer
Tristan/RP Words © Saoradh
No specific refs used for pony, boi, or lands
Generis googlies of "old time war generals" for outfit and tack inspiration

Procreate/Photoshop CS6