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Description

Official RidgeRunner Stables storyline.

Featuring:
Jarin Jackson on WRR Discofoxy Blondtourage
Sydney Brannon on WRR Doc's A Mile High

Follows a few days after:
(there is a summary underneath the big ass story, nice quick read)

Jarin stared longingly at the slot full of papers outside of Jennie's office. Everything free to grab for all guests, riders, borders, staff, etc. From liability forms, code of conduct, boarding packages, lease forms, sponsorship opportunities to coloring pages, anatomy sheets, copied articles that gave tips and helpful guidance around horses. His eyes settled on a form he had looked over so many times: the Representative Competitor form. Essentially, an application to submit about one's riding abilities, capabilities, accomplishments, and goals for the future. If one is selected, then begins the real qualifications to become an official rider that represents the stable. One that got to wear RidgeRunner's name as their own, travel and expenses paid for, priority scheduling at the stable, etc. These riders were the cream of the crop at the stable. Riders like Tristan , Dave , Taysom , probably Chris one day, and even Sydney .
A heavy sigh escaped Jarin. He had filled out that paper so many times, he almost had it memorized. If he asked Jennie, she would say he should keep up his lessons and keep applying. But that wasn't really an answer as to what he could be doing better just that something wasn't quite up to standards just yet. Probably what everyone kept telling him: more focus, less silly business.
"It's not like I try to mess up," Jarin muttered to himself, taking yet another packet to fill out again. One trait Jarin always put on the line that asked about his positive attributes: he never gave up.
"What're you cryin' over?"
Jarin nearly jumped into the wall, hearing a deep voice out of the blue. He didn’t need to turn and look to see who it was but he did anyway. He looked up to see Sydney then immediately down to his boots. "Where are your spurs?" If he would have had them on, he would have heard him long before he could say anything to him. But he never heard the signature Clomp-chink-Clomp-chink of Sydney's stride.
Sydney’s head about toppled off his shoulders. What the fuck kind of question was that? Was that a sign things were mending between them if that's all he had to ask?? He simply jingled the spurs in front of Jarin's face like keys in front of a baby. He could notice they weren't on his feet but couldn't even see they were in his hand?
"Oh…" Jarin responded nonchalantly. Jarin stared at them a moment longer. Sydney always had them on; he rarely ever saw him take them off. Usually when he chucked one at Jarin to get his attention when they used to ride together. Used to. Jarin tightened his grip on the papers, scowling before he turned to take his leave.
Sydney frowned at his unannounced departure. So it was the same ol' same ol' after all. He huffed, compelled by his unyielding stubborn attitude to follow after Jarin. "Jarin, you know ignorin' me jus' makes me want to be more of an asshole... I work here too," he added when he didn't get an immediate response. "How 'bout we get a burger or somethin'?" Dear God, how it pained Sydney's fragile ego to offer such an ass kissing, mushy bullshit plea. But it wasn't like Sydney was totally ignorant that he had been an absolute jackass to Jarin for quite some time. Change is hard. It didn't happen in an instance like a car crash. This was a slow and drawn out kind of torture. "I'm jus' tryin' to make things right again…" Sydney muttered behind Jarin.
Jarin’s pent up frustrations were at a tipping point and Sydney was just pushing at them. He was trying very hard to restrain himself from rage or sadness or confusion or whatever it was pulling at him. He silently carried on, making way for the tack room to put the form with his things and grab a groom tote. The least he could do was remain professional as Jennie had asked him to do. No more fighting.
"Princess…"
-well fuck that. So much for no more fighting. Jarin rounded on Sydney, smacking his hand off of his shoulder. "Don't you ever call me that again," Jarin growled. He shoved Sydney's big frame, honestly not causing much more than for him to take a step back but it was the principle behind the shove: back off. Jarin trembled from the frayed nerves, taking a step back to but continuing to glower at Sydney. "Make things right, Sydney?" Jarin scoffed as his shoulders slumped, giving in. That was all he could muster to be mad even at someone like Sydney. He just couldn't carry that emotion; it wasn't in his nature. Instead, he looked up to the ceiling of the tack room, shaking his head, and smiling pathetically as the tears rolled down his cheeks. He never could make them stop when he got emotional.
Jarin laid the form on the tack room counter, trying to flatten it back out where he had crumpled it in his fit of anger. He spoke softly, sadly, “Sydney, all I ever wanted to do for you was make you happy. But you…you used me. As a toy. As some rebound because of what Krissa did to you. Justin told me everything. But you…” He wiped the tears that had pattered onto the paper. "You took advantage of me. Because I trusted you. I thought…I thought you liked me. But what you did wasn’t love, Sydney. It hurt. You hurt me."
The tack room wasn't particularly small, but it felt suffocating like this. Jarin knew it all, then. Justin wasn't going to let him get away with anything. In a way, Sydney was relieved he didn't have to say it. But what did that make Sydney? Some kind of coward, afraid of himself? Christ, Sydney felt so far out of his depth. Jarin was so readily open to share all his thoughts and feelings and Sydney could hardly manage a mutter. "I…"
Jarin shook his head, wiping his eyes and turning to the grooming totes to grab the right one he wanted. "I'm done trying to make excuses for you, Sydney. Next time someone hurts you like Krissa did, you don't do that to me. People are just supposed to be nice to each other, Sydney.” Tristan said so. “And you weren’t very nice.”
Sydney lowered his eyes to the floor. This wasn't the Jarin he knew. Where were the smiles? Where were the clumsy, stupid mannerisms? Where was that light in the darkness? Sydney silently accepted Jarin's demand of him. This was more than once Sydney realized he couldn't keep fighting against Jarin. That's not what he wanted. Anyone else, he'd fight tooth and nail just because he could. Because he liked to fight, he liked to win, he liked to be in control. But not with Jarin. Not anymore. It just took him this long to realize that's what he had been doing all along.
Jarin set the tote on the counter, just about through with the tears, "You called me selfish. Do you remember that?" Jarin dared him to think back to that day.
Sydney swayed from side to side, slipping his hands into his pockets. He honestly didn't remember much that he said in the heat of the moment. He wouldn't be surprised if he had said that… He gave a half-assed shrug, wishing he could give an apology but that wouldn't just fall out of his mouth either.
Jarin felt a pang of disappointment that it didn't seem like he remembered at all. All those hurtful things he said. They'd be with Jarin forever, but just gone like that for Sydney? How was he so lucky? A sob caught in his throat but he fought it. "I'm supposed to be nice to you. But I won't forgive you. I don't have to and I won't. I don't care if that’s selfish."
"Damn," Sydney swore under his breath, looking back at Jarin. He didn't swear because he was disappointed with Jarin's resolve. No, he was impressed that Jarin could make a firm declaration of any sort. He was always such a soft pushover. "Did shithead tell you to say that or is that how you really feel?" He questioned his stance. When Jarin squinted with confusion in his expression, Sydney elaborated, "Tristan. Yer lil' butt buddy feedin' you all the pretty lies you wanna hear."
Jarin glared at Sydney again, just when he thought he was done being angry. "I can make my own decisions! Besides, everything Tristan has told me has been true or has been the best for me!"
"Yeah, right," Sydney scoffed. "The best for you? Or the best for himself and you just happen to get on the good side of it, huh?"
"S-so what!?" Jarin flapped, flustered over the confrontation. He would never question Tristan's motives! It didn't matter! Jarin snatched up the form from the counter, flapping it in front of Sydney, "See this!? This is my idea. I'm filling it out for me! I want this. Not anyone else," Jarin made clear, huffing. Why did he feel the need to prove it!?
Sydney smirked, leaning back on the wall. "Aight, aight, you don't gotta shout 'bout it. But if that's really what ya want… is this really what you want between us too? Or is that Tristan's thinkin' for you? Look, I ain't lookin' for forgiveness. Y'ain't gotta tell me I don't deserve that. But…" he hung his head for a moment before looking back up again. He shifted his weight forward, taking a step closer. "I jus' want yer honest answer. That's somethin' I know yer always gonna give me. Because I- … You…" An irritable sigh steamed from Sydney's lungs. If he wasn't such an emotionally closed off man, this would be so much easier for him but it just made him mad that he couldn't speak his own damn thoughts.
Jarin ruffled the form, feeling like it was a kind of shield. Of course he felt this way! Tristan said… Jarin felt his resolve crumble bit by bit. He set the papers down, shrinking away. Typical Jarin. Oblivious to it all until it was explained to him in blunt terms. But Tristan said… he wouldn't… Did Lukas manipulate him too? No, he wouldn't do that… Maybe his hate towards Sydney really was everyone else's idea… What did he really think anymore? He just wanted to live life with a smile.
"I ain't ever gonna hurt you like that ever again, I swear, Jarin. It wasn't right and I-" Sydney forced himself to meet Jarin's watery eyes looking up at him. He recognized the hurt, confusion, distrust, and fear that showed on the surface. Was there anything left for him that he didn't already ruin? "I'm…"
Jarin had seen this expression before. When Sydney had first kissed him and then proceeded to react with violence even then. Back then he had said 'I didn't mean it. I didn't mean for any of it to happen…' while a tear rolled down his cheek. He wasn't saying that now. Now he was trying to make things right? What even was considered right at this point? What did Jarin want? Did he want anything from Sydney?
"I'm s-"
Jarin looked behind him as the tack room door opened up, in walking a couple of friends in a merry conversation. By the time they noticed Jarin and Jarin looked back to Sydney, he was already headed out the other door. Jarin slumped, leaning on the counter and sighing heavily. Running away again. Was he about to say sorry? A word he didn't think he ever heard Sydney said. Never.
He looked down at the form, convincing himself this was truly what he wanted to do because… because… because he wanted to, right? Or was it because someone else told him to? Inspired him. Who was really steering Jarin's ship through the waters of life?

(2001 wordcount)

tldr summary;
--Jarin is going to be a big boy and try to be an official sponsored rider for the stable
--Sydney says hello
--Jarin isn't having his crap
--Sydney points out that Tristan is the one telling him how to feel about everything
--Now Jarin is confused again
--Sydney remains emotionally constipated

Previous: Everything Always Works Out || Next: TBA

The art is to represent how Sydney seems to crop up and throw a wrench in Jarin's life at inopportune moments :''D
And Jarin just >:[ "aw shit, he might have a point and now I'm questioning all my life choices. aw shit, im about to eat dirt again."
A rare grumpy face from Jarin; very exotic~
Other than that, I just wanted to play around with some art again~ I didn't want to draw "people standing around talking" so this was the best I could come up with -shrug-

Wanted to play with this style some more! Try my hand at a darker roan so there's a lot of variance in tone. I've done light horses, dark horses, so it was time for one that does both lololol And Miles is such a cutie!!! He magically aged up too lolol I drew the tack before picking the horse (shame on me) he got a big boy bit soooo add a couple years, shhhhh~
Anywho, I think I'm to the point with this style, I'm a lot more comfortable with it and still enjoying the process! I especially like doing the backgrounds? Because I purposefully can make it much more simplified and I've always enjoyed lining things from my very anime roots. When I do my more realistic pieces, it always stresses me out to fill in a shape that I haven't lined out :''D So this is really satisfying to me to have LINES to color in lol

Until the next adventure <3 Thanks for looking in~

Jarin/Sydney/Jennie/Dave/Chris/Taysom/Krissa/Justin/Art © Drasayer
Tristan © Saoradh
Lukas © Acetoma
No specific refs for these clowns, their ponies, or scenery

Procreate/PhotoshopCS6

Description

Official RidgeRunner Stables storyline.

Featuring:
Jarin Jackson on WRR Discofoxy Blondtourage
Sydney Brannon on WRR Doc's A Mile High

Follows a few days after:
(there is a summary underneath the big ass story, nice quick read)

Jarin stared longingly at the slot full of papers outside of Jennie's office. Everything free to grab for all guests, riders, borders, staff, etc. From liability forms, code of conduct, boarding packages, lease forms, sponsorship opportunities to coloring pages, anatomy sheets, copied articles that gave tips and helpful guidance around horses. His eyes settled on a form he had looked over so many times: the Representative Competitor form. Essentially, an application to submit about one's riding abilities, capabilities, accomplishments, and goals for the future. If one is selected, then begins the real qualifications to become an official rider that represents the stable. One that got to wear RidgeRunner's name as their own, travel and expenses paid for, priority scheduling at the stable, etc. These riders were the cream of the crop at the stable. Riders like Tristan , Dave , Taysom , probably Chris one day, and even Sydney .
A heavy sigh escaped Jarin. He had filled out that paper so many times, he almost had it memorized. If he asked Jennie, she would say he should keep up his lessons and keep applying. But that wasn't really an answer as to what he could be doing better just that something wasn't quite up to standards just yet. Probably what everyone kept telling him: more focus, less silly business.
"It's not like I try to mess up," Jarin muttered to himself, taking yet another packet to fill out again. One trait Jarin always put on the line that asked about his positive attributes: he never gave up.
"What're you cryin' over?"
Jarin nearly jumped into the wall, hearing a deep voice out of the blue. He didn’t need to turn and look to see who it was but he did anyway. He looked up to see Sydney then immediately down to his boots. "Where are your spurs?" If he would have had them on, he would have heard him long before he could say anything to him. But he never heard the signature Clomp-chink-Clomp-chink of Sydney's stride.
Sydney’s head about toppled off his shoulders. What the fuck kind of question was that? Was that a sign things were mending between them if that's all he had to ask?? He simply jingled the spurs in front of Jarin's face like keys in front of a baby. He could notice they weren't on his feet but couldn't even see they were in his hand?
"Oh…" Jarin responded nonchalantly. Jarin stared at them a moment longer. Sydney always had them on; he rarely ever saw him take them off. Usually when he chucked one at Jarin to get his attention when they used to ride together. Used to. Jarin tightened his grip on the papers, scowling before he turned to take his leave.
Sydney frowned at his unannounced departure. So it was the same ol' same ol' after all. He huffed, compelled by his unyielding stubborn attitude to follow after Jarin. "Jarin, you know ignorin' me jus' makes me want to be more of an asshole... I work here too," he added when he didn't get an immediate response. "How 'bout we get a burger or somethin'?" Dear God, how it pained Sydney's fragile ego to offer such an ass kissing, mushy bullshit plea. But it wasn't like Sydney was totally ignorant that he had been an absolute jackass to Jarin for quite some time. Change is hard. It didn't happen in an instance like a car crash. This was a slow and drawn out kind of torture. "I'm jus' tryin' to make things right again…" Sydney muttered behind Jarin.
Jarin’s pent up frustrations were at a tipping point and Sydney was just pushing at them. He was trying very hard to restrain himself from rage or sadness or confusion or whatever it was pulling at him. He silently carried on, making way for the tack room to put the form with his things and grab a groom tote. The least he could do was remain professional as Jennie had asked him to do. No more fighting.
"Princess…"
-well fuck that. So much for no more fighting. Jarin rounded on Sydney, smacking his hand off of his shoulder. "Don't you ever call me that again," Jarin growled. He shoved Sydney's big frame, honestly not causing much more than for him to take a step back but it was the principle behind the shove: back off. Jarin trembled from the frayed nerves, taking a step back to but continuing to glower at Sydney. "Make things right, Sydney?" Jarin scoffed as his shoulders slumped, giving in. That was all he could muster to be mad even at someone like Sydney. He just couldn't carry that emotion; it wasn't in his nature. Instead, he looked up to the ceiling of the tack room, shaking his head, and smiling pathetically as the tears rolled down his cheeks. He never could make them stop when he got emotional.
Jarin laid the form on the tack room counter, trying to flatten it back out where he had crumpled it in his fit of anger. He spoke softly, sadly, “Sydney, all I ever wanted to do for you was make you happy. But you…you used me. As a toy. As some rebound because of what Krissa did to you. Justin told me everything. But you…” He wiped the tears that had pattered onto the paper. "You took advantage of me. Because I trusted you. I thought…I thought you liked me. But what you did wasn’t love, Sydney. It hurt. You hurt me."
The tack room wasn't particularly small, but it felt suffocating like this. Jarin knew it all, then. Justin wasn't going to let him get away with anything. In a way, Sydney was relieved he didn't have to say it. But what did that make Sydney? Some kind of coward, afraid of himself? Christ, Sydney felt so far out of his depth. Jarin was so readily open to share all his thoughts and feelings and Sydney could hardly manage a mutter. "I…"
Jarin shook his head, wiping his eyes and turning to the grooming totes to grab the right one he wanted. "I'm done trying to make excuses for you, Sydney. Next time someone hurts you like Krissa did, you don't do that to me. People are just supposed to be nice to each other, Sydney.” Tristan said so. “And you weren’t very nice.”
Sydney lowered his eyes to the floor. This wasn't the Jarin he knew. Where were the smiles? Where were the clumsy, stupid mannerisms? Where was that light in the darkness? Sydney silently accepted Jarin's demand of him. This was more than once Sydney realized he couldn't keep fighting against Jarin. That's not what he wanted. Anyone else, he'd fight tooth and nail just because he could. Because he liked to fight, he liked to win, he liked to be in control. But not with Jarin. Not anymore. It just took him this long to realize that's what he had been doing all along.
Jarin set the tote on the counter, just about through with the tears, "You called me selfish. Do you remember that?" Jarin dared him to think back to that day.
Sydney swayed from side to side, slipping his hands into his pockets. He honestly didn't remember much that he said in the heat of the moment. He wouldn't be surprised if he had said that… He gave a half-assed shrug, wishing he could give an apology but that wouldn't just fall out of his mouth either.
Jarin felt a pang of disappointment that it didn't seem like he remembered at all. All those hurtful things he said. They'd be with Jarin forever, but just gone like that for Sydney? How was he so lucky? A sob caught in his throat but he fought it. "I'm supposed to be nice to you. But I won't forgive you. I don't have to and I won't. I don't care if that’s selfish."
"Damn," Sydney swore under his breath, looking back at Jarin. He didn't swear because he was disappointed with Jarin's resolve. No, he was impressed that Jarin could make a firm declaration of any sort. He was always such a soft pushover. "Did shithead tell you to say that or is that how you really feel?" He questioned his stance. When Jarin squinted with confusion in his expression, Sydney elaborated, "Tristan. Yer lil' butt buddy feedin' you all the pretty lies you wanna hear."
Jarin glared at Sydney again, just when he thought he was done being angry. "I can make my own decisions! Besides, everything Tristan has told me has been true or has been the best for me!"
"Yeah, right," Sydney scoffed. "The best for you? Or the best for himself and you just happen to get on the good side of it, huh?"
"S-so what!?" Jarin flapped, flustered over the confrontation. He would never question Tristan's motives! It didn't matter! Jarin snatched up the form from the counter, flapping it in front of Sydney, "See this!? This is my idea. I'm filling it out for me! I want this. Not anyone else," Jarin made clear, huffing. Why did he feel the need to prove it!?
Sydney smirked, leaning back on the wall. "Aight, aight, you don't gotta shout 'bout it. But if that's really what ya want… is this really what you want between us too? Or is that Tristan's thinkin' for you? Look, I ain't lookin' for forgiveness. Y'ain't gotta tell me I don't deserve that. But…" he hung his head for a moment before looking back up again. He shifted his weight forward, taking a step closer. "I jus' want yer honest answer. That's somethin' I know yer always gonna give me. Because I- … You…" An irritable sigh steamed from Sydney's lungs. If he wasn't such an emotionally closed off man, this would be so much easier for him but it just made him mad that he couldn't speak his own damn thoughts.
Jarin ruffled the form, feeling like it was a kind of shield. Of course he felt this way! Tristan said… Jarin felt his resolve crumble bit by bit. He set the papers down, shrinking away. Typical Jarin. Oblivious to it all until it was explained to him in blunt terms. But Tristan said… he wouldn't… Did Lukas manipulate him too? No, he wouldn't do that… Maybe his hate towards Sydney really was everyone else's idea… What did he really think anymore? He just wanted to live life with a smile.
"I ain't ever gonna hurt you like that ever again, I swear, Jarin. It wasn't right and I-" Sydney forced himself to meet Jarin's watery eyes looking up at him. He recognized the hurt, confusion, distrust, and fear that showed on the surface. Was there anything left for him that he didn't already ruin? "I'm…"
Jarin had seen this expression before. When Sydney had first kissed him and then proceeded to react with violence even then. Back then he had said 'I didn't mean it. I didn't mean for any of it to happen…' while a tear rolled down his cheek. He wasn't saying that now. Now he was trying to make things right? What even was considered right at this point? What did Jarin want? Did he want anything from Sydney?
"I'm s-"
Jarin looked behind him as the tack room door opened up, in walking a couple of friends in a merry conversation. By the time they noticed Jarin and Jarin looked back to Sydney, he was already headed out the other door. Jarin slumped, leaning on the counter and sighing heavily. Running away again. Was he about to say sorry? A word he didn't think he ever heard Sydney said. Never.
He looked down at the form, convincing himself this was truly what he wanted to do because… because… because he wanted to, right? Or was it because someone else told him to? Inspired him. Who was really steering Jarin's ship through the waters of life?

(2001 wordcount)

tldr summary;
--Jarin is going to be a big boy and try to be an official sponsored rider for the stable
--Sydney says hello
--Jarin isn't having his crap
--Sydney points out that Tristan is the one telling him how to feel about everything
--Now Jarin is confused again
--Sydney remains emotionally constipated

Previous: Everything Always Works Out || Next: TBA

The art is to represent how Sydney seems to crop up and throw a wrench in Jarin's life at inopportune moments :''D
And Jarin just >:[ "aw shit, he might have a point and now I'm questioning all my life choices. aw shit, im about to eat dirt again."
A rare grumpy face from Jarin; very exotic~
Other than that, I just wanted to play around with some art again~ I didn't want to draw "people standing around talking" so this was the best I could come up with -shrug-

Wanted to play with this style some more! Try my hand at a darker roan so there's a lot of variance in tone. I've done light horses, dark horses, so it was time for one that does both lololol And Miles is such a cutie!!! He magically aged up too lolol I drew the tack before picking the horse (shame on me) he got a big boy bit soooo add a couple years, shhhhh~
Anywho, I think I'm to the point with this style, I'm a lot more comfortable with it and still enjoying the process! I especially like doing the backgrounds? Because I purposefully can make it much more simplified and I've always enjoyed lining things from my very anime roots. When I do my more realistic pieces, it always stresses me out to fill in a shape that I haven't lined out :''D So this is really satisfying to me to have LINES to color in lol

Until the next adventure <3 Thanks for looking in~

Jarin/Sydney/Jennie/Dave/Chris/Taysom/Krissa/Justin/Art © Drasayer
Tristan © Saoradh
Lukas © Acetoma
No specific refs for these clowns, their ponies, or scenery

Procreate/PhotoshopCS6