;; great balls of fire!

[rival]

The arrival of L O G A N[/I][/FONT]

The blond haired thirty two year old was glad she'd asked the haulers to meet her in the pastures with the horse instead of in the barn; idiots seemed to run those lines nowadays, and with a stallion who's never been handled getting off a trailer after at least a thirteen hour drive after stops Lonnie didn't want him anywhere near the barnyard with all those squealing, dramatic children. Not to mention all the other horses; she didn't want anyone injured when he came off the trailer, so having them back it right up to a paddock was the best route to take. She sighed, running slender fingers through her freshly washed and dried pale hair and hoped the amount of alcohol she'd had last night didn't show on her face. She wasn't quite hung over, but the tiredness in her eyes and the knot in her stomach told her she would not get out of this one unscathed. She'd donned steel toed boots, skin hugging jeans, a comfortable red tank, aviator sunglasses and in a few moments a grey cap with a charming yellow smiley face stating, 'Stupid is as Stupid does.' My my how ironic she thought with a half smile as she pulled her hair into a low ponytail and slapped the cap on her head quickly. It was only about eight in the morning so the heat wasn't so bad yet, but already the temperatures were pushing eighty five degrees. It would be a scorcher today, so she hoped the stud didn't go too off his rocker and end up having a heat stroke from freaking out. Dark humor rolling through her brain, she figured it would only be about two hundred bucks she was down; she could always buy another.

Leaning against the white paddock fence she surveyed it critically for several moments. The fences were high four-panels, solid and made of hardwood, perfect for a stallion. It was not very large so he wouldn't be able to get a running start and he would have to get to know her by being confined and alone. She'd chosen this one because of how resilient it appeared and the fact that the stallion would be largely surrounded by geldings and even a pasture with a small group of weanlings nearby. An open run-in shed would keep him protected and there was ample grass in the decently sized paddock to keep him occupied. She stared off into the distance for a little while, thinking about the past and her road to getting here, hoping the little bay Mustang would help her work and get her life back in line. Help her find herself.

A reverberating whinny crackled through the previously quiet Texas morning before being followed by a loud rattling and creaking, bangs occasionally echoing through her tired brain. Turning around, she saw a large dually truck pulling slowly towards her tugging a three horse Sundowner she felt confident he was alone in. She'd paid enough to ensure it, so he had better have been. The dusty silver truck swirled slowly around and began to back the trailer towards the paddock, so she began to wave him here and there to direct him right to the gate of the paddock. She swung it open as the trailer neared, stopping the driver when there was no space between the trailer and fence. She didn't need the Mustang trying to squeeze through a little space and hurting himself. Nerves sprang up into her throat as she listened to the stallion's hooves beating restlessly against the trailer floor and occasionally ripping out a terrified whinny. He must be able to smell the horses, because surely he would not still be alive if he'd acted in this manner the entire drive.

She walked around to the driver's side and shook the man's hand; he looked not only humored but gleeful at the aspect of her getting the stallion out of there. "He's a hellion, ma'am, but we got 'im here." the overweight guy said, making Lonnie smile politely, but without amusement. "He's terrified, dumbass, not a hellion." she offered sickly sweet to him, wiping the stupid grin off the driver's face. He snorted in a man's manner and held his hand out for payment. She handed it over, her bank account an unhappy bit lighter from booking a shipping service for one horse. "I'm happy to pay you to hang around for awhile; I want to take my time getting him out and settled. Why don't you go help yourself in the tack room to some snacks and a plasma t.v." she said to him, hardly bothering to wait for a response before turning to head towards the trailer's back end. The burly man stalked off, but he was appeased by the thought of a plasma being in a tack room. Alone with her horse, Lonnie let the jitters fade out of her body before she even thought about opening the trailer door and, when she was calm, reached over and slowly undid the latch safely from the other side of the fence. The trailer door swung slowly open and nothing but silence greeted her, so she tied the trailer door securely to the fence and stood back to wait quietly for her stallion to either work up the courage and step onto the grass, or explode out in the same manner he'd been treating the trailer before.

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[carson]

FIX THE PAIN THAT BLEEDS INSIDE OF ME.

All four of his remaining horses had been settled in, two of them were currently in stalls, and two of them were out in pastures. Carson found it weird to be boarding at an old student’s barn, but her generosity was not something he was willing to turn down, and he had gotten really tired to keeping up with his own small farm. He was sure the students would enjoy having a brand new array of jumps to play around with; most of them able to go up to 6’3 for the adventurous types, and most of them very elaborate and good practice to jump ‘scary’ jumps that most under-showed horses would spook or refuse at. He had always been a firm believer in preparing the horse for anything and always kept ‘spooking’ material around his barn, whether the horse was 3 or 30, he’d not have a single non-bombproof horse showing under his farm.

Save for his four year old thoroughbred mare.

In Tempi’s defense, she had just been bought off the track, and was still apt to fly off the handle at the slightest noise, her reaction time was great, but now he had to work on bringing her back to earth. Two weeks already, and she was slowly starting to calm down, this meant that there was some hope for the jumpy bay mare yet. Carson hoped to get her calm enough to not kill him when he finally started to really ride her. For now, it was a few minutes of saddle time here and there, the rest of her workout containing extensive bombproofing and desensitizing to things that could possibly set her off. Already he had jumped her a few times, but considering she simply threw herself at a 2 foot fence, he decided it was best to wait until she was mostly trained.

At least he still had his three other ‘sane’ horses.

Paige had taken the rest, which he found odd and mostly useless for her, since his ex-wife, once their daughter died, had shown no true interest in horses. In fact, she had stopped riding shortly before Hailey had been born and never made any attempts to get back into the industry. Though, in her defense, she spent most of her time playing hospital parent while he was out foolishly playing his Olympic games. He still regretted those decisions; the guilt was more than likely to stick with him for the rest of his life. Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, his hand found the smooth metal of the gold locket that he never left the house with.

In fact, if he left it somewhere, he’d go out of his way to get it back.

The final (and only true) memory of his daughter, a golden locket given to him by her for his 29th birthday with a picture of her when she still had all her hair. Turning around in the aisle way he gazed at Private Lion, who was hanging his head out of his stall and watching the traffic go by, sometimes lazily flicking an ear forward as he thought someone would come give him a treat. Unfortunately, it was still early morning and there weren’t too many people that would be remotely interested in feeding the aging stallion. Stepping up to his horse’s stall he ran a hand across his soft muzzle, smiling softly as Lion licked his hand hopefully he laughed and said,
Nope, you know you don’t get treats unless you’re ridden.

Not only were his horses on a strict workout routine, their diets were also uptight.

Habituatlly, Carson reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Taking one out he stuck one between his lips and lit up. Carlee had gotten him into the habit, sometimes he wished he hadn’t let her do it. His smoking had been just another argument for him and Paige, sometimes he wasn’t allowed to even go see his daughter if he had recently smoked, and that always killed him, but his dedication to his addiction to the nicotine and his job kept him pulled away from where he truly needed to be. Shaking out of his thoughts he took a long drag then turned his head away to avoid blowing the smoke in his horse’s face. Out in the parking lot, a trailer was pulling in with an obviously upset horse in the back.

His curiosity was hooked.

Walking out towards the pastures he went to see where the horse was going, and who would even bother owning such a wild sounding thing. Rounding the corner he eyed the trailer as a man got out to talk to the owner, when he heard her voice, Carson quickly recognized her. Laughing at himself at the circumstance, he wondered how she’d feel when she realized three people that were very aware of her mistake resided at the same barn she did. Walking up behind her he put on a smug grin and put out the cigarette before jovially calling,
Lonnie Lancaster! What a surprise to find you here, how’s my favorite dropout been?

---

o.857
notes;; ‘HOW IS THE FAILURE?’ he’s a dick fo sho.

[rival]

Lonnie rocked back onto her heels, hands latched securely to the wood railing as she stretched her back in anticipation of a long wait. It had been several minutes and still the stallion had not moved or even so much as snorted; if she hadn't just heard him attempting to destroy the trailer from the inside out, she would be tempted to think the hauler hadn't shipped her horse at all. She sighed, letting her mind slip into a quieter place in order to summon up her patience and felt better as her lids closed and she sort of half-dozed where she stood. One leg rested and her hands on the rails for support, she could almost nap like a horse in this manner she figured. Her ears stayed wide awake, however, and a few moments later she heard a deep inhale followed by a loudly snorting sneeze from inside the trailer. Her eyes shot open and she looked over, but other than that nothing happened. Not a single hoof movement, else she would have heard that, too. At least she knew he was thinking about it; she wouldn't be here all damn day.

Then, as if God were out to punish her for getting a little tipsy last night, a voice she had hoped never to hear again seemed to rip right through her delicately wound reality. She almost jumped in place at the sound of him, but pride kept her from wavering in the slightest so instead she settled for taking one big deep breath before turning around with a big sarcastic grin on her face. "Carson Valmonte, if it isn't my past out to bite me in the ass. Again!" she said with a self-deprecating laugh. What are the fucking odds Carson fucking Valmonte would be at this stable? And at a time when she's bringing a wild ass mustang off a trailer? On second thought, maybe it would make him think she'd gotten better and was taking on bigger projects. What kind of childish thinking was this coming from her?! "I've been g-reat!" she said with sarcastic enthusiasm. Surely he would know he was the last person she wanted to see after blowing the Olympics way back when. At least they'd had a good alternate, but it had still cost them the gold. She took a better look at him and could have sworn she saw the red circles she had such a hard time getting rid of, but she wasn't about to say anything to him about potentially being an alcoholic. At least he hadn't blown the Olympic Games.

As if on cue the stallion decided to politely intervene on her behalf by moving; "Hold that thought," Lonnie said, holding a finger up to indicate she needed just a moment. She could hear his hooves striking the trailer floor slowly as he moved forward, so she turned back to the fence quickly in order to see if he would actually get off without going insane. A few nerve wracking moments passed and then she saw a black muzzle appear from the open back of the trailer. His nostrils were going a million miles an hour trying to sniff the paddock without actually getting in it, and for a moment it was all too real to her. This was to be her salvation horse, the one who would get her off the drink and back into a respectable place. Having run a barn for the past few years more than impressively, socially she was alright in the general circuits, but to her own state of mind she was an unacceptable person. Well, the fact that the barn had let her go because of her alcohol she chose to ignore. Suddenly, the stallion's nose disappeared and she heard him retreat rapidly back into the confines of the trailer. Previously fighting like mad to get out, now that he was faced with such unfamiliarity the trailer was all that he knew. Sighing, she turned back to Carson (unfortunately, yes, he was still standing there).

"Sorry, where were we? I'm good, you?" she asked him with a mix of sincerity and trepidation. She would expect to be slaughtered verbally to a certain extent considering she flew back to the States and high tailed it before the team ever returned, but she hoped he wouldn't completely try to destroy her. It had taken a lot of effort to pack everything she had and move halfway across the country to try and start over, including starting with a wild Mustang like the one she'd worked with as a kid, and what he said now pathetically would more than likely determine whether or not she would be drunk later. Regardless she already needed a good drink just from seeing him again at all, but she hoped the internal damage report wasn't going to be too bad. Emotionally unstable as she was, the thirty two year old blond managed to keep her cool and had a polite smile plastered to her face in anticipation of what he would do next.

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[carson]

FIX THE PAIN THAT BLEEDS INSIDE OF ME.

The second she heard his voice, tensions in the air shot up tenfold. While Carson was generally against creating anxiety inducing situations, today he could (would, and did) make an exception to his rule. Watching as Lonnie spun around and stared at him, the second the surprise was there it was gone. Carefully, he studied her features; the only thing that seemed different was the regret in her eyes and the more pronounced age lines. Though, he could only imagine that he looked the same. Time had been quite cruel to his mental health, deteriorating to a strange point of instability (yet he was quite stable at the same time), the one thing that dragged him down.

Yet, he would never let it go.

Part of the reason he had quit was because finally, when his ex-wife shoved the divorce papers in his face before all the dirt could cover his daughter’s freshly made coffin, before the graveyard attendants could even mark her grave. Suddenly realizing that he was losing everything that kept his drive going, he just dropped it all and promised he’d never pick it back up, his entire will to be constructive or even contribute to society was lost for at least two years. After that, he finally started to get back into the ‘swing’ of things, that and Carlee would not let him rot away. She said it was because she valued his opinion.

He thought otherwise.

However, he was grateful that she forced him to buy land to start riding again. He was grateful that she kept calling him to bother him about riding. He was grateful that for the first time in years, she had cared. Funny, getting him back on his feet had been quite easy. All she had done was asked him how his daughter would have wanted him to react to the situation. Yet, even with this ideology, he still couldn’t help but feel guilty. After he and Paige got divorced, she had given him all the letters his daughter had written him, letters that Paige selfishly kept to herself.

Reading through her words had broke him even more.

Perhaps if he had never found the letter where she had said all she wanted for her birthday was for her daddy to come home before she died (because she knew she was on her way out, there was no fooling that child, no hoodwinking her), that she wished that for one day he would sit with her like he would in off season, he wouldn’t have been so traumatized by the entire event. Unfortunately, it was the first one Paige made sure he read. This had angered him, their daughter had begged Paige to send them to him, in hopes that he’d read her words and come flying back home to her like a real father would. He now lived with the assumption that Hailey died wishing bad things upon him.

And maybe that’s what had really happened, because it seemed like nothing but bad luck had fallen into his life.

Shaking out of his thoughts he looked to the trailer as she excused herself to deal with the quieted beast in the trailer. As he saw the black muzzle of a bay horse poke out of the darkness of the trailer he tilted his head then watched as the nose disappeared and the sounds of hoofs quickly retreating to the back of the trailer were heard. As she turned back around he raised an eyebrow and said,
Seems like a charming horse.
He had still failed to drop the sarcastic tone. When she asked how he was doing he shrugged and said,
Likewise, I suppose. There’s only so much one can do to run from the past, yes? What brings you to Crossfire? I’m sure Carlee and Blaise will be more than interested to hear that the infamous alcoholic has resurfaced once more, after all, we all thought you fell off the face of the planet.
He looked back to the trailer as it fell silent again then back at Lonnie,
But, then again, it’s simple to fool the successful, isn’t it?

The crooked smile never left his face.

---

o.699
notes;; oh pooorrr Lonnie, he’s so mean XD

[rival]

It was times like these Lonnie wished she had her own damn property; she could have either kicked him off or shot him in the face by now rather than stand here and take his abuse. Her temper rose a little bit when his sarcasm was directed towards her newly acquired wild horse and the tinge of pink in her cheeks showed it. Aside from this and a slow cross of her arms she refused to let it be terribly obvious that he'd pissed her off. With every breath, though, she had to remind herself that she deserved the verbal abuse he was offering; screw maturity and killing with kindness, he was going right in with a dagger to her band-aid covered gashes. I deserve this. I deserve this. she muttered in her head, letting his words roll right in and likely lodge themselves into another raw spot. She'd been bound to get it at some point; she'd been running for so long, though, she figured that part of her life was over with. That was what this trip had all been about: moving on, changing herself, getting over the past. Carson showing up was proving to be a reminder that life wasn't all about her and her problems. She hadn't been the only one hurting back then and even now; in fact, she likely caused heartache in other people as Carson was proving now.

Then again, as she looked him over for what seemed like the first time, he had changed quite a bit from the last time she'd seen him. He looked almost like he'd been to hell and back, likely about what she appeared to be, and the bitterness in his tone hinted that perhaps she wasn't the bottom line of his vehemence. She seemed more like the convenient outlet that had appeared for him to take his anguish and irritation out on. Either that or she really was just a total ass and just hoping she wasn't the cause of his extreme sarcasm. "He's a Mustang, Carson, of course he's charming." she said almost tiredly to him. This would hopefully let him know in a subtle manner that her horse wasn't to be the butt of his jokes or a weak point to target. She fully expected the stallion to be a total hassle for awhile and that had been the reason she took him on. She needed a tangible goal to try reaching. She needed to accomplish something for once in her adult life. What Carson had to say next, though, she had to admit caught her off guard. He said it as if Carlee and Blaise were actually here, in the same place with them. Wracking her brain, she tried to remember who owned the barn or who the boarders were she knew of or who the trainers were. How in God's name had she managed to pick a barn with not one but three of the people she'd completely screwed over in her life all under the same breezeway? Now that she thought about it her antisocial developments had her letting someone else set up the barn and location for her, not wanting to know or caring who boarded with her, and knowing full well she didn't want or need a trainer for her or her horses. She was a fucking Olympian for goodness' sake, she could do it herself. Well, almost an Olympian. Whatever. She'd gotten careless and walked herself right into this damned trap.

She sighed, looking away from him and towards the barn as if there were better things to see when in reality she was trying to figure out how in hell to get her voice back. Panic rose and fell in her gut at the thought of them all approaching and just slaughtering her, not to mention the fact that she would actually have to face the people she abandoned when they needed her most. What in hell had she been thinking that night? A whole world of regrets had been born that day and every single bit of it was one hundred percent on her. What had been going through her mind? What had possessed her to get trashed that night? Oh yeah, that's right, her adopted father died. Could she not have stepped up to the plate and gotten the fuck over it to do what she needed to do for her team? Nope, evidently not. But Carson didn't need to know that.

Lonnie readjusted her cap for a moment, letting the already stuffy morning air breathe relief onto her blond head that had already begun sweating. She looked back to Carson, a nasty expression on her face despite her best efforts. "I deserved that." she said simply, nodding while re-crossing her arms. With an exasperated sigh, ”I’m sure Carlee and Blaise would simply love to know that I’ve appeared for them to rail on, too.” her head dropped for a second, looking at the ground and thinking she needed to make good friends with her tequila bottle later. She looked up sharply back at him, keeping herself from making a smart comment about the weight he put on or the wrinkles he’d gained. ”I came to Crossfire to start over to be honest. I’ve been plenty successful since.. since Athens, thank you very much, but quite frankly none of that bullshit really added up to much for me.” she finished up defensively, her eyes cold as she continued, ”Which from the looks of it none of that bullshit much added up for you, either.” There, she said it, and it wasn’t about to be taken back. Obviously if she knew his daughter had died she might have picked her words a bit more carefully, but regardless what she said was true to a certain extent. Fuck the past. ”Want to get a drink later?” she asked jokingly, not even bothering to let more than a shadow of a sarcastic smile cross her face. Shaking her head, she glanced back to the paddock to see it still empty. So much for distractions, Logan.

[/size][/blockquote]

[carson]

FIX THE PAIN THAT BLEEDS INSIDE OF ME.

There was no true reason for Carson’s sudden found animosity towards Lonnie. Much like a rat caught in an unfortunate trap, Lonnie happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sure, she probably deserved a little bit of the hell he was giving her now, but not to the extreme that he was throwing around. So much anguish unshed, so much guilt and hate harbored in a heart and mind for a long time could only spell disaster n the end. Carson was well aware that sooner or later he’d go crazy. Or better yet, maybe he’d walk off a cliff.

Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

Maybe if he got lucky enough he’d go to heaven or whatever and see his daughter and apologize. What the man wouldn’t give for a second chance or even just a way to turn back time a few years to make it back to that one moment. Most fathers looked forward to walking their daughters down the aisle ready to hand her off into the care and under the loving jurisdiction of a man she was sure to spend the rest of her life with, or holding their first grandchild for the first time. The only thing Carson had to look forward to after Hailey was diagnosed with T-Cell Leukemia was holding her hand when she died. And he had missed out on the only major milestone that she’d hit.

Life was full of losses though.

You just had to learn how to shift through the tragedy to find the positives. Unfortunately, Carson had yet to move on to the ‘acceptance’ stage, still blaming part of all of his turmoil on Paige. It was her fault that he hadn’t been there. It was her fault this, her fault that. Rarely was it ever his fault until he consulted with his therapist (alcohol), once the bottle was broke out then the truth came out like a severed vein. Gushing forth and spilling out in torrents of emotional pain that he kept locked up sober. Perhaps little miss Lonnie here could give him a lesson or two in letting go of the past and moving on. Lord knows he could use a little bit of reconciliation and acceptance in his life.

Her defensive tone about her horse only made him smile wider.

For a quick moment, her stone cold poker face cracked and he found a soft spot. Should he need ammunition against her later, he stored the subject for a later date and time. A mustang? That was a far cry from the million dollar show horses she was riding at least six years ago. At that, his curiosity was sparked. Holding his tongue in his cheek for a moment his hand twitched as he realized how badly he wanted to smoke, but put off the habit a little longer as his eyes shifted back to the trailer, all sarcasm dropped as he inquired about her new horse,
Mustangs, eh? You never struck me as the ‘crazy wild’ type, but then again I have been known to be wrong before. What’s its name? Spirit?
Of course he could not innocently question something without a touch of humor or ass hole sarcasm that he was so well known for.

Crossing his arms he reached back into his pocket and lit another cigarette.

Lonnie looked quite distressed at the mention of two of her fellow teammates under the same roof. Unbeknownst to her, neither Blaise nor Carlee were remotely interested in badgering and verbally abusing Lonnie like he was. In fact, they’d probably raise a glass to her in memory of the historical moment and offer to buy her a couple drinks. If he were a little different, Carson would probably do the same thing. But the business side of him kept him reminded of every little accidental injustice that had been doled out to him in his life. Watching a team member he had been assigned to coach and babysit get kicked off for being too drunk to ride had dealt a severe blow to his pride.

A blow to Carson’s pride was not something anyone lived to do twice.

Emotionally wound him once, shame on him. Emotionally wound him twice, shame on you. Wouldn’t he just love to know why she had sat alone in her hotel room that night drinking herself to an intoxication level that he had previously thought impossible. If only he knew that the Olympics that year had provided an unfair amount of death for the USA team, if only he knew he was not the only one that had lost someone dear to him. Though, perhaps if he had actually been informed of Hailey’s turn for the worse and then agonizing, lonely last hours he may have reacted differently.

Actually, he probably would have kept on working.

As Lonnie looked back at him, he found a particularly bitter expression on her face, the rebuttal to his torment. The defense in her voice told him that he was successfully pissing her off. But when she turned the spotlight back onto him and said that she assumed Athens had not done anything good for him either, he bared his teeth in a silent snarl. Putting the cigarette out as he dropped it on the ground and twisted it into the dirt he spat back at her,
No. It did a great deal of help to me. I have plenty of experience. The only shit that year threw at me was that my daughter died and my wife divorced me.
The bitterness was clear in his voice. When she sarcastically asked if he could go for a drink later he squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb before retraining his bright blue gaze back on her, letting out a muffled ‘ha’,
Hmm. A dick comment meant for pure sarcasm, yet you don’t even know how much I’d love a tall glass of something strong.

---

1.oo2
notes;; jfkldsajfklds kill meeeeeeee. –dies-

[rival]

There was really no telling how this interaction would end with Carson, so she found herself scraping the back of mind in effort to figure out what had happened since she’d seen him last. It was futile, though, and she knew it, because in all actuality she had been crushing every moment of the Olympics and the events leading up to it back into a tiny box in the back of her closet in the cobwebs of her long-sold horse trailer. If anything had happened to her team mates since the moment the alcohol hit her mouth, she had taken every effort to avoid it. She did remember, though, what it was like to have friends at one point. She missed it. Being a part of something, being depended on.. being needed, wanted. Cared for to a certain extent. She remembered Carson’s half-assed sarcasm and wry penetrating grins and, even though their personalities had always had them clashing in a sort of love-hate way, she had liked him and as far as she could remember he liked her, too. They’d all been friends and team-mates until she fucked it up and tore apart whatever she might have had with any of them.

All this would happen at the moment she’s finally decided to pick herself up and move past it. God or whatever put a hand in the shit hole that was this planet seemed to feel she ought to face what she thought to ‘move on’ from, her idea being forgetting it and not dealing with it, by planting every one of her team members right in front of her face. Way to deal. Interrupting her thoughts Carson’s facial expression at mention of her horse immediately added a tinge of regret into her brain. He’d use it later. Good old Carson. Damn her and her inability to maintain control. She made a face, annoyed by the name suggestion, ”No, actually, his name is Logan, and you have indeed been wrong before. I needed a project, something different to.... get back in line I guess.” she said candidly, lifting a hand to subconsciously lift her gray cap again from the blond head in effort to cool her scalp of the sweat which already was lining it. It was too hot to be handling this stress. Surprisingly, she felt as if she was setting herself up to be railed at this point. She realized she wanted his forgiveness after all this time despite the massive amount of pride she often slapped people in the face with. Obviously nothing was going to change any time soon, but she figured she may as well leave the ball in his court, however this altercation ended.

When the cigarette appeared in his hand she sensed his demeanor change, especially when she mentioned the shit that came of Athens. Her brow raised inconspicuously at the appearance of silent rage he let flicker across his face. A great deal of experience? Is that the bullshit he was going to toss out he got from Athens? About to make a smart comment about what a load of bullshit it was, he finished up with a rather sobering comment. She froze for a moment, shock only apparent for a moment in her blue-green eyes before she looked away, rubbing one hand self consciously against her right bare arm. Looking back to him, her expression was wounded and softened for him. She took a hesitant step forward, reaching her hand out to grasp his upper arm gently before rubbing it for a moment. ”God, I’m sorry, Carson.” she said earnestly. Having never given birth to a child herself but adoring them nonetheless, she remembered seeing Carson’s daughter once or twice and couldn’t imagine the little thing dead. She only let her hand stay there for a moment considering how awkward it was to offer that kind of gesture after seeing him for the first time in years since she screwed him over. She stepped back to her former position in front of the fence to give him space and let him brush over the gesture if he felt so inclined and went back to his comment about a drink. ”You know me, always the dick.” she offered with a weak smile, unwilling to delve back into her cold cynicism without him starting it first. ”And since I’m already an alcoholic you know I don’t mind something tall and strong, it’ll be on me.” she said with a wry smile, figuring she could at least offer him a way to get back to his criticism of her and away from the death of his daughter and loss of his family. She was bitter and prideful and terrified, but she wasn’t about to say a damned thing about his family. She hadn’t the place, nor did she want to try saying anything negative in his aspect.

Giving him plenty of time to react, after several moments hooves could be heard moving slowly again out of the trailer, so she turned away to give him a moment to compose himself further if he needed to. The turn was slow and almost hesitant, but her slender body leaned against the fence to see her Mustang’s eyes for the first time. The eyes were as wide as his dark nostrils, a perfect pretty star on his bay colored face, and after a few moments one perfectly formed foreleg and rock-hard hoof stepped onto the ramp to lead him out. He was average height for a Mustang, a flat fifteen hands, but his conformation was astonishing for a wild-bred and raised horse with the bloodlines he carried. Near-perfect for any equine, he obviously could use some quality feed and hay to get him to the point he needed to be. His muscle structure was almost to an extreme, roping across every inch of his body with very little fat evident on his bones. He was slender but somewhat scruffy due to lack of grooming and exposure to the elements, his lengthy mane and tail obviously rather tangled and stringy. He would lose a few inches when she got to it, but she felt confident he could be a stunner by the time she got through with him. He stepped slowly out and onto the grassy ground, his black muzzle lowered quickly to the ground in order to take in the scents he’d been trying to catch from inside the box. He moved slowly, eventually lifting his head to look sharply around in every direction. Then, a bellowing whinny came rumbling from deep in his chest as other horses slowly came into his line of focus. Some lifted their heads and nickered back, others ignored him completely being used to this kind of thing. Logan, however, immediately sprung into a ground covering trot and jerked to stop across the fence from the closest horse. The paddock was a few yards from his own to prevent unwanted interaction, but he pressed his body against the fence seeming to think if he did so hard enough it would collapse beneath his weight. Fortunately, the fencing here was more than secure and his noble head just barely was able to clear the four panel fencing.

Lonnie sighed suddenly with the anxiety of his finally appearing and watched for several more moments before glancing back to Carson; he would either come over and look at the horse, too, or want to continue the conversation. She figured it had been long enough for him to react, but one never knew with Carson. He might make fun of her for paying such intent attention to the stallion but she didn’t much care at this point. The stallion snorted and began to pace, whinnying constantly before darting from one side of the paddock to another. She backed up a little, offering quiet murmurs to distract him, hopefully calm him down, wanting to avoid him trying to leap the fence or him dying of heat stroke. His attentive ears flickered towards her now and then, slowing just as he passed her with every speed-increasing lap. He galloped freely for several minutes around the paddock and it wasn’t until his was coated in sweat did he slow to a stop and look around a bit more. Forced to be calm by the temperatures, his head dropped and he found the stock tank full of fresh water and began to drink freely. Lonnie groaned, slapping herself in the head having forgotten for a moment where she was. What have I gotten myself into?

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[carson]

FIX THE PAIN THAT BLEEDS INSIDE OF ME.

Normally, when arguing with someone or trying to berate or irritate or set someone on a guilt trip, he did not like to use his personal life as a way to drag in pity. However, this situation was clearly proving to go above and beyond his normal encounters. Generally the cocky, arrogant, stern trainer that he had made a name acting as remained intact through such a situation, but he had felt that at this time and place, the ‘my daughter died so shut up’ card was simply begging to be played. At least unlike most people who used such a situation to quickly end an argument, he used it as a last resort and felt triple the anguish in his heart every time he talked about it. Sometimes people wouldn’t believe him (the few that didn’t know him at least), they’d laugh at his ‘joke’ and tell him that he’s a terrible person. Naturally, he’d agree with them then politely correct them that he was not joking about his daughter’s tragedy and if he was, he wouldn’t be wasting his time arguing with them.

That usually stopped them in their tracks, leaving Carson the winner.

Losing or failure was never an option in Carson’s book. It was not his concern whether someone really wanted to win or not, or whether they really wanted to do what they were doing. If someone came to Carson whether by force or through their own will, the only thing he expected from someone was for them to at least pretend to try. Fear was unacceptable, and often times he’d spend hours preaching to the team how if they showed fear at a jump or movement, then they needed to re-think what they were doing. His father had been severely hurt when he had shown just a stitch of fear at a jump, and the horse had picked up on it and put the brakes on just ask they were coming up to a three foot in diameter log with a six foot drop on the other side. Needless to say, his dad got to play human catapult as he was launched into the air then thrown six feet down and almost got killed. In Carson’s eyes (and everyone else’s for that matter) his dad was lucky to be alive, much less walk.

Carson translated his ‘no fear in riding’ principle to his real life as well.

Whether he was aware of it or not, but he was always a man to practice what he preached both on and off a horse. No fear, never back down. It got him into a shit load of trouble in his younger years. As a father, his fearless optimistic look at the future had cost him just a few extra hours with his daughter. Sometimes he wondered if Paige missed Hailey as much as he missed her. He wondered if she thought she still heard her laughter on a quiet, moonless night, or if she felt that she was still around. In an effort to keep Hailey alive both in mind and heart, Carson had taken a firm belief in ghosts. Though, he had believed in ‘entities’ before as well, but with Hailey gone he believed in them more than ever before, hoping that he’d one day catch her as she floated down his hallway and tell her how truly sorry he was.

Unfortunately, life did not work like he wished it would.

Carson could see that it took a few seconds for the realization of his rebuttal to set in. The second Lonnie interpreted his snarling message, he felt the tension drop from the air as she self consciously rubbed the side of her arm, presumably embarrassed that she had even dared to bring up Athens. Still, he wasn’t the only one that had suffered that year, it had seemed like fate had simply decided to dump a shit load of problems in the American team (who still managed to rock the competition regardless of their dapper spirits). The sudden contact made him almost jump out of his skin, forgetting that it was ok for friends to comfort friends. Though, as soon as it had happened, Lonnie realized that it was truly awkward. Still, he didn’t necessarily not mind it. It had been a while since someone had bothered to see past the fake mask of nonchalant heartlessness about the entire situation and brought him down to earth to remind him it was ok to still hurt. She quickly turned away to look at her stallion as the nervous horse clambered off of the trailer.

He simply stood there and watched.

Quickly realizing that continuing any kind of conversation, cynical or not, from a distance was rude he stepped forward and leaned on the fence beside her, putting his elbows up on the edge and his chin in his hands, watching the bay horse cautiously inspect his surroundings before resorting to leaning on the fence hoping it’d break. Habitual desires kicked in once more and he lit another cigarette, the last one of the pack. That was unfortunate. Looking at the horse he decided to drop the previous game of simply torturing her because it made him feel better he furrowed is brow and simply said,
Mustangs, eh? I remember you saying something about growing up around them. Wild horses are completely different from our domesticated ones. Where’d you get ‘m?

---

o.9o5
notes;; ewewewew. Badpost D:

[rival]

Obviously Lonnie knew how inappropriate touching Carson would be, but the situation called for it and she wasn’t about to be indecent and not even so much as tell him she felt sorry for him (in a respectable manner of course). He felt the awkwardness and she could tell, so it was a good thing when she pulled back in a timely manner. She didn’t know if things would ever be alright between them, but this short interaction with Carson thus far made her remember how it felt to have friends - and it hurt like hell. She missed having someone to talk to or knowing someone looked forward to seeing her alive the next day. That had been the point of Logan, after all. To give her something to look forward to, a reason to keep going. Only time would tell how it would all work out, even that much the woman had enough common sense to consider.

When she’d given him the distance and watched the stallion gallop around and settle for a bit, she was relieved to hear his footsteps and then the sound of his arms against the four panel fence beside her. She smiled quietly to herself for a moment at the fact that the two of them were making nice for once, but didn’t like the circumstances that led to it. Whatever, she’d made her bed. His question came out slightly awkward considering the decent turn the conversation had taken, but she appreciated it nonetheless and smiled at him for a brief moment before looking back to the horse who was now snatching at the green foliage so abundant beneath his hooves and occasionally flinging his black maned head up high to look around worriedly. Hopefully he didn’t colic from the anxiety and running around, but Mustangs were built tough; she hoped he would settle down within a day or two. ”Um, yeah, I did.” she said, surprised he’d remembered this little tidbit about her. Paying attention to the little details are we? ”I had him shipped out of Colorado actually. BLM had a roundup recently, so.. here he is.” she said with a small shrug of her slightly freckled bare shoulder. ”I love that they’re so different. They aren’t dulled down like ours, lazy brained. They’re instinctive, responsive, sharp.... there is nothing like communicating with a horse via almost nothing but body language.” It was a beautiful experience, and simply watching his every twitch and turn of the ear or flick of the tail told her something; it had been so long since she’d been close to one she would have to readjust to being more sensitive and attentive to his and her every move. With wild horses, every motion meant something; it was up to her to read it and respond correctly. A relationship built purely on trust, and only she could fuck it up.

Unable to resist, she risked a glance at his similarly overheated face but kept her expression unreadable; maybe she could make up with him. Was that what she wanted, though? Was that what he wanted? Was she getting too far ahead of herself? Why in the world would he want to relate with her again for any reason? As doubts and insecurities flooded constantly behind her bright blueish eyes she looked at the ground for a moment, rubbing her steel toe into the ground against a fence post before sighing and looking back up to her soon to be best friend. She needed his therapy, and she hoped the horse would come to serve his purpose and then some.

[carson]

FIX THE PAIN THAT BLEEDS INSIDE OF ME.

When he was younger, and perhaps a little less busy, the idea of taking a horse from the wild and bringing it into the world of civilization and domesticated creatures had seemed like a task he would have enjoyed taking on. In fact, when he was in his late teens, early twenties, he had visited a few mustang roundup websites; he had the pens set up at his old home and everything. Then, Paige had announced that she was pregnant, and all of his ‘side projects’ were dropped as he found he only had time to focus on his coaching job and preparing himself to be a father. When Hailey had been diagnosed with cancer, his free time basically died, the workaholic had to find a way to make time for his job and his ill-struck daughter. Unfortunately, he never did find the ‘true’ time to spend with her. In the end he paid for his lack of attention.

Oh well, live and learn. What didn’t kill him only made him stronger, right?

Carson couldn’t help but notice how Lonnie had looked slightly surprised that he had remembered her little fun fact about growing up around mustangs. Most people did not realize that he was far more observant than he was ever given credit for. But really, how was he supposed to be good at his job if he forgot even the smallest things about his students? He had always had an exercise with new students where he had them tell him three interesting (or maybe not interesting) things about themselves, it was always just so he knew a bit more about them, Carson liked to have at least a slight degree of a friendly relationship between his students, that way when he yelled at them it hurt a little bit more than it should. He really did try to be a nice guy when he was teaching someone, but he had his moments where he allowed the frustration to let him snap.

Most of the times it wasn’t very ‘pretty’ so-to-speak when he snapped, because it generally ended up with someone riding without stirrups.

Regardless, Lonnie seemed excited to talk about her mustang, and if he were a different person, he’d probably listen to her whole story, but instead he just blankly stared at the bay stallion as he ripped the grass out of the ground worriedly, occasionally throwing his head up and calling to the other horses, a few responded, but most just simply twitched an ear and continued on with their lives. He caught the bit where Lonnie said that mustangs were so different to work with, not as dull, and he frowned. He had come across a great deal of smarter horses, but he didn’t really feel like picking up the argument with her. He nodded numbly as she spoke, not really offering much conversation, he noticed that she looked over at him, he watched her out of the corner of his eyes. What was she hoping to get from him? He wasn’t going to apologize for anything, but maybe she just wanted a ‘friend’ again, so to speak. Carson figured he could probably offer that, everyone needs a friend, right? And currently his only real friend was the bottle, and that friend was a terrible influence.
Other than playing wild horse tamer with mustangs, you been up to anything else remotely interesting these past few years? How’s the bottle been?

There was that cynical sarcasm.

---

o.58o
notes;; awh, he was nice for…one post xD

[rival]

&& could we pretend that airplanes
in the night sky are like
S H O O T I N G S T A R S

[/SIZE]



SIERRA SIMONE
"LONNIE"[/size][/center]

Within a few minutes Logan had settled down, but those heightened senses were always on alert as the sweat began to dry from his slightly dull bay coat. Small ears twitching this way and that, his eyes flickering here and there while his nostrils widened every now and then to check the wind as whatever tiny insignificant breeze came his direction. She couldn’t wait to work with him, get him to trust her so she could get ahold of that coat, mane and tail he had draggling on him. He looked fit and healthy, just faded and unbrushed from constantly living out in the wild. She already had some SmartPaks in the feed room for him, some coat and skin supplements along with a little stomach easer to get him used to the feed around here. He wouldn’t be used to protein rich grain, and she wanted to do whatever she could to avoid the possibility of colic. It wasn’t like he’d let them catch him and shove a tube down his throat willingly. While the two of them watched, Carson had begun to calm down but she could still sense a little tension between them. Obviously it would take quite some time and it would never go away, but she really had been avoiding what she reckoned she ought to say for the entire conversation.

Before she could get to it, though, after squashing her pride and figuring he deserved to hear it, his voice cut off her thoughts. Immediately her guard went back up again as sarcastic ass Carson came back out and she thought she could let him suffer a little longer. Her lips pursed for a moment and she kicked her shoe in the dirt one more time before looking back at him again. It was getting hot as hell out here. ”I managed a barn for awhile up north, breeders. They did some hunter/jumper though, I had it running like a top.” she said bitterly, a cold half smile crossing her face before she looked back at her project horse. ”The bottle’s been more faithful than anybody else I know. Seems like it’s been pretty steady for you, too, Carson old friend, am I right?” she asked cynically, a nasty grin crossing her face as she turned to lean against the fence, looking at him with a slightly tipped head and hand on her other hip. ”God knows I can drown myself in it for no good reason at all. Why don’t you just out and talk about it? Tell me I’m a piece of shit for leaving you guys at the Olympic alter with a couple of pimple faced alternates? Don’t you want to know if the liquor tasted good on my tongue the next morning?” she exploded at him, brandishing her hands in an exhasperated nature. She was hardly violently angry, in fact she hadn’t been all that angry in awhile just frustrated. But she figured he could quit being a pussy by beating around the bush and come out with it.

”Your cynical ass can only push me around for a little while before it gets old and I’m ready for something else.” she said stubbornly, looking up at him with an expression that suggested, ‘Got nothing better to say?’ was written all over her face. He might as well just say it, come out and tell her she was horrible. She’d been saying it her whole life but no one had ever said to her face since she’d gotten out of her home town. Half of her hoped he’d have the balls and refresh the wounds, burn them out with a little %100 alcohol and then let her hang by hooks from it. The other half, though, she hoped he’d back down and leave her the hell alone so she could go drown herself. For Lonnie, though, she never took the easy way out when faced directly with her problems. She’d been running too long, and was ready for a change. Time to whip out the cotton balls, bitches, because it’s only going to get deeper from here. Maybe she’d over-reacted, especially since he was trying a little bit to be nice, but the tension of the situation was developing into a little more bullshit than she could handle.

[/size][/blockquote]

'cause i could really use a
W I S H right now
wish R I G H T now
wish right N O W

--------

lyrics property of b.o.b. ft. hayley williams
comments:

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[carson]

FIX THE PAIN THAT BLEEDS INSIDE OF ME.

When someone yelled at Carson or overreacted to something he did, the entire situation could go one of two ways. The first way would be a route that very few people dared to speak of once the adventure was over, the other left most with a generally pleasant experience that was a little less taboo to speak of. Generally, a natural reaction for Carson would be for him to simply return someone’s anger, to allow himself to indulge in the fury that floated around the air, most of the time he was caught yelling or losing his temper was when he was teaching. In general, Carson was not hard to get along with, nor was he easy to piss off, but there was no telling what could happen when he was provoked. Less predictable than an angry rattle snake (which you always know will bite), but a little more dependable than a fickle minded woman.

The situation with Lonnie could go both ways, it was riding on how he felt at the moment of emotional impact, provided she threw any fast balls at him.

He hid his bored expression well as he gazed at the horse, not necessarily impressed with the stallion, but how fair was it that he was comparing a straight off the range mustang to a groomed and well-fed, well-sheltered warmblood? Not fair at all. That’d be like comparing Bill Gates to an unfortunate homeless person (or an alcoholic on a bad day). Both horses had different backgrounds, one was born in the wilderness, a place where forgiveness only came in the package of a mountain lions well aimed teeth and a swift death. The wild, a place where Mother Nature was in her element, where her cruelty reached all corners of life, the food chain so easily swayed by one animal’s death. A place where life and death was a matter of how quickly could something run away, or if a predator got a meal to feed their families with. A domesticated horse had no such life.

Their biggest decision was whether to eat at that patch of grass or that patch of grass.

But in the ‘duller’ minded horses’ defense, their true test of abilities did not come at the hungry, salivating jaws of a meat eating animal who wanted nothing more than to indulge on their fresh-killed guts. Instead, they had to devote all of their physical and perhaps limited mental prowess to the demanding tasks that their rider asked of them. Silly, unnatural things like ‘move sideways while keeping your balance at a trot’ or ‘jump over that 6 foot jump without touching a pole’, even ‘run faster than these other horses’. So, in reality, to compare the two was not in his right, but he did it anyway out of desperation of needing something to do with his mind. Lonnie then began to speak of the minor success she had after she threw in the alcohol-laden towel, yet her voice was bitter and another bottle comment was pitched in his direction. He nodded, actually interested in her answer, he listened like a good boy should and said,
Well, glad to know that you can run a farm successfully, and the bottle is no friend of mine, we’re mere acquaintances that enjoy a few good nights then argue the morning after as I cling to a bottle of Gatorade and ‘feel good’ pills. I like to keep my professional relationships at as far a distance as can be humanly allowed; you should at least know some of that.

It was rare when he let personal friendships get in the way of his job or bigger goals.

Finally, the explosion he had been waiting for from her arrived. He had poked and prodded, bullied and abused his way to her breaking point, he kept the tactics he had subconsciously used stored away in a file for another date and time when he might possibly need to irritate her. She suddenly demanded for him to directly call her ‘shit’, to ask her how the alcohol tasted the morning after. He got the subtle tones of ‘be a man and tell me what you really want to say before I do it for you’, when really; he had nothing to say at all. Sure, he had been angry to hear that one of his key anchors in the team had been whisked away on a plane to America to avoid the real shame, but he felt the equine media had done an absolutely wonderful job of smearing her horrid little name in as much dirt as possible. When she looked at him, he could see her daring him to say anything else.

A dare few people made.

A flash of fonder times lit up his memory, a reason why he got along with so many of the team members, they had all been born with the innate ability to fight, the competitive nature of theirs drove them towards excellence, which was why he had handpicked all of them. However, if he let loose his furious words of war on her, that’d be no victory (or fun) or anyone; and as previously discussed…failure was not an option in his books. For a moment, he was quiet; evaluating what she had wanted from him. He knew full well she was goading him into saying what she wanted to hear. Unfortunately, Carson ran on his own agenda, and appealing to her insecure nature might not (and it isn’t) be on his tightly packed schedule. Taking a step back from the fence, he crossed his arms, lifted his chin and gazed down at her, his voice was level and void of most emotions. If anything, he sounded a little bored (but he figured it might earn him a kick in the balls should he yawn at her),
No, my dear Lonnie, I don’t think that it is my place to tell you what an idiot you were. I’m sure you read all the equine newspapers, and some stories in the national and international papers. I figured that they had done an absolutely wonderful job of conveying everything we could have wanted to say to you if you had the gall enough to stay in Athens a little bit longer, but since you hitched the first flight out of town before the sun rose, we took a mutual vote to simply let the blood thirsty media tear into you.

He took another step back, ending the attempted friendliness he had been working at before, the distance signaling that his ‘nice’ stopped here.

As he fell silent, the tension gathered itself, letting the moment climax as he allowed his words to take their hits. Ok, so perhaps he was somewhat giving in to her need to hear the ‘truth’ she had made for herself, but how could he deny the moment when it had been practically laid before him like the answers to a test? He was a self indulging man, why was he going to suffer when he could take a couple other bitches down with him. Misery loves company, and Carson was making the most of it.
Though, I believe you are thinking too highly of yourself. Sure, you were a great anchor that we needed for the team, maybe even someone that could have boosted us to the silver or even the gold, but for arriving on such short notice, and to still take away the bronze, it would be unfair for you to, someone who wasn’t even there, to judge reliable replacements that gave enough of a damn to be there, regardless of what was going on in their personal life.
Was he referring to himself as well?

Of course he wasn’t.

As much as he wish he could deny it, Carson did not regret going to the Olympics that year. A conflicted man about the decision, but past the layers of sadness, he was glad he went. Always a workaholic, he’d be working up until the day he died. Sure, he’d gone through a few months of inactivity, but now that Carlee had somehow dragged him back from the implied grave, he wanted more of what the equine world had to offer him, clawing at the doors; he was a ravenous monster wanting in. He had always been that way, and there was little that could ever truly change it, even though he tried to use the binding leash of alcohol to control his cold-hearted nature. Shaking his head slightly he finally yawned and said,
Also, I don’t particularly want to know, or honestly care, how the alcohol tasted on your tongue in the morning. Because I know all too well that you wake up after getting shitfaced, on the couch or the floor, maybe with a pile of vomit already next to you with the room spinning, with the bitter taste of a night’s adventure of regret and uncontrolled sorrows and anguish. To me, that tastes like shit, and I can’t imagine alcohol’s reminder tastes any better to you, unless you simply partied the night away, which, given the event, I don’t think you did.

---

1.529
notes;; IM SO SORRY ABUOT THE LENGTH D:

[rival]

&& could we pretend that airplanes
in the night sky are like
S H O O T I N G S T A R S

[/SIZE]



SIERRA SIMONE
"LONNIE"[/size][/center]

Maybe she’d reacted a little too soon, a little too quickly, and maybe a little too sharply, but when it came down to it they weren’t doing a damn thing but jibbering off empty words to one another. She knew neither one of them were willingly out here shooting the breeze and quite frankly she might have given anything to pack up her horse and haul him to another barn far away from this state now that she knew who else stayed in it. Unfortunately, she doubted that this horse would be going anywhere for awhile unless he sustained some kind of major injury which kept him from moving anyway. She was flustered and annoyed, mixed emotions threatening to render her mute. She wanted to cry and she wanted to scream and she wanted to run away, but that simply wasn’t an option anymore. Carson stepped away from the fence and immediately the invisible wall was reinforced between them. He was breaking off the fake friendliness they’d had going for the past few minutes and taking her bait. About time the real reason he’d come over and started talking with her came about.

She turned to face him directly as his arms crossed defiantly, looking down at her in a manner she didn’t appreciate. Her eyes narrowed and own slender face tilted upwards in return, her jaw setting defiance rising steadily. His initial reaction wasn’t completely surprising and she only rolled her eyes childishly in response. She smirked, shaking her head and looking away for a moment and back again. He quieted to let it sink in and she simply raised her eyebrows as if bored. Something he could have said in one sentence he had to draw out into an entire speech. It was true, the media had thrown her name around like a ragdoll and offered her up to be worth as much as a witch in Salem during the old times. About as bad as that swimmer who got caught smoking weed, what was his name again? No matter, they indeed had drug her through the mud until something more interesting had come along. She had made it a point, though, to stay out of public and keep her television off for quite awhile after she’d left the Olympics. In reality she missed most of the thrashing; she’d instead nursed her alcoholism to a point of stupor. It was a miracle she hadn’t died, even though that had honestly been the entire point. The fact that after every 24 hours of drinking she consistently woke up again was quite disturbing to her. She figured there must have been a reason.

His second assault, though, she had to admit stung a little. She was actually perfectly fine with knowing their alternates had clung happily to the possibility of being able to compete; she was more selfishly ashamed of the fact that she hadn’t been able to compete herself. She knew leaving had cost the team, regardless of whatever Carson Valmonte wanted to say, and it was the regret of disappointing her team and support and disappointing her own self that did her more damage than anything. The Olympics were something her dad had been proud of. When he wasn’t around anymore, there was no reason to continue. He’d been the only one there for her all those years; he’d gotten her out of her shithole of a home as a kid, and had tried to make her a successful person despite the shattered childhood she’d had. Who did she have who cared now? Much to her shock, she’d still had her team to disappoint, her team who cared. Losing the only person in life who’d ever been there, though, was a great way to send a damaged person regressing.

She’d retreated into herself, run away and shoved everyone off just like she used to. Maybe her life would have turned out differently if she’d sought out the company of her team mates rather than the company of a bottle to make herself feel better.

”That’s Carson Valmonte, always the dramatic ass.” she said smartly, condescendingly as he remarked in quite a detailed manner what the morning after felt like. Obviously he’d taken her a bit too literally and had decided to indulge her on the fact that he, too, was a raging alcoholic. No way to dispute it now, not at all. She’d only been speaking figuratively; he had to have a hangover or something to take it so rawly. ”Always have to give some grand speech about whatever is going on.” she said, waving a hand dramatically. ”I reckon your hangover’s got your panties in a bunch anyway, so I’ll just wrap this up for you. I apologize for bailing on the team and for disappointing you and all that bullshit.” she said bitterly, though it was sincere. ”So, why don’t the both of us just go our separate ways and leave it at that.” she finished up, looking at him stubbornly. In all honesty she hadn’t a damn clue what to say to him in the first place. It was true, though, that all this nice talk had been starting to wear on her nerves. Neither of them were fit for it, and it was obvious they were never going to be friends again. She’d never really thought of Carson as a friend in the first place, more of a professional relationship. He always set it up that way for himself, so why not indulge his wants?

[/size][/blockquote]

'cause i could really use a
W I S H right now
wish R I G H T now
wish right N O W

--------

lyrics property of b.o.b. ft. hayley williams
comments: took me a damn year, didn’t it? do you want to continue this thread or what? i think i totally had a muse crash and that’s why it took me an age. x.x thoughts?

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[ashie]

Lulz i think this r done too.