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Description
***EDIT
WE WON!

[link]
Team Roping
1st: FFS Supervillian and Herpin the Derp owned by *galianogangster
-Effort: 50/50
-Story: 10/10
-Accuracy of technique/method: 10/10
-Rules: 5/5
-Accuracy of tack and clothing: 3/5
-RNG: 5/10
-DETAIL: 8/10
Total: 91/100

Grand Finale Rodeo

Class: Team Roping
Horses: FFS Supervillian, Herpin the Derp
Riders: Trenton Wisneski and Brad Ambrosius

It was the day of the rodeo, and some unexpected news threatened to sabotage Trent and Brad's chances of competing.

Early that morning, Trent groggily headed to the barn equipt with his slippers and poptart. He swung open the barn doors and mosied over to Evan's stall.
"C'mon wise guy, we got a big day ahead of us" he muttered. After a few moment of silence, Trent opened the stall door to see that the pintaloosa was not in it.
"Shit" he exclaimed, and ran to see Bullet's stall rid of a horse as well. Dust flew as he dashed to the log house.
"NIKKI? LACEY?" He shouted, searching frantically for the flirty females. He approached their bedroom and called in, hoping, for once, they were in there. He carefully opened the door, hands covering face just in case he were to intrude on them again. He'd seen more of them on accident then he'd really hoped to before. He did not find the girls, but he did find a note.
"Took Evan out to the springs, will be back in the afternoon. Love, Lacey"
"Really?! On the day of the rodeo?!" He crumpled up the note in frustration and ran out of the house.

His grumbling was soon interrupted by a flash of ebony and azure. He found himself on the ground, covered in dirt.
"WHOA" Sunny exclaimed "Good work, Villian, that could be a new record!" She patted the sweaty stallion's lean, muscular neck. He knickerd in reply. "Sorry, Trent" Sunny apologized, taking the boy's hand and pulling him up. Trent dusted off his jeans.
"S'okay, this is nothin' compared to ridin' broncs" he said with a smile.
"Ah, right! Isn't Grand Finale's rodeo today?" Sunny inquired.
"Yeah, but Lacey took Evan 'n Nikki brought Bullet to the auction" Trent said, tracing patterns in the dust with his boot.
"Well Kat's supposed to be coming by soon to pick up Villian, he's going to be in the 50 yard dash. Since he'll already be there, you could use him. And Kylar's been itchin' to get out as well. I'm sure Brad'll be fine with him." Sunny stated with a wide grin.
"That'd be super, Sunny! You just saved my ass!" Trent said with an excited hop.
"No problem, but on one condition; you're giving him a bath" Sunny dismounted and handed the reigns over to Trent. Villian shook his muddy head and stuck his nose in the boy's pocket, licking up what was left of his poptart.
"Oh boy"
_____________________________________

Supervillian breathed in, the brisk October air entering his nostrils. He wanted to run, but Sunny promised him a run after this. Trent was riding him, something that did not usually happen. He figured the boy wasn't too bad, he had poptarts after all. Villian would not consider himself any type of herder, but it was explained to him he would have to do something like it. Trent spoke to the stallion as they stood at the gates.
"I've got to rope the head of the calf, so you need to run right along side it, bud, got it?" he whispered. The charcoal stallion nodded his almost blue tinted head. He thought he understood. It was like racing, but the fence kept moving. Parallel to the calf, got it
Kylar looked over and snorted in approval.
I got the back, you just don't let him get away he told Villain.
The shoot opened with a clank, and the horses were off. Villain got a bit too excited, and ran faster than the calf. He swiftly turned, and herded it to the fence. With the bellow, the calf was roped from both ends and Villain swung around and backed up. The dusk cleared to expose the coal black calf, bound on the ground. Villain was so invigorated, he reared and whinnied a little in excitement, erupting a chuckle from the spectators.
Not bad, kid Kylar nickered You ready to really run?

. . . to be continued . . .

Art and story (c) Becc@ Petersen

Description
***EDIT
WE WON!

[link]
Team Roping
1st: FFS Supervillian and Herpin the Derp owned by *galianogangster
-Effort: 50/50
-Story: 10/10
-Accuracy of technique/method: 10/10
-Rules: 5/5
-Accuracy of tack and clothing: 3/5
-RNG: 5/10
-DETAIL: 8/10
Total: 91/100

Grand Finale Rodeo

Class: Team Roping
Horses: FFS Supervillian, Herpin the Derp
Riders: Trenton Wisneski and Brad Ambrosius

It was the day of the rodeo, and some unexpected news threatened to sabotage Trent and Brad's chances of competing.

Early that morning, Trent groggily headed to the barn equipt with his slippers and poptart. He swung open the barn doors and mosied over to Evan's stall.
"C'mon wise guy, we got a big day ahead of us" he muttered. After a few moment of silence, Trent opened the stall door to see that the pintaloosa was not in it.
"Shit" he exclaimed, and ran to see Bullet's stall rid of a horse as well. Dust flew as he dashed to the log house.
"NIKKI? LACEY?" He shouted, searching frantically for the flirty females. He approached their bedroom and called in, hoping, for once, they were in there. He carefully opened the door, hands covering face just in case he were to intrude on them again. He'd seen more of them on accident then he'd really hoped to before. He did not find the girls, but he did find a note.
"Took Evan out to the springs, will be back in the afternoon. Love, Lacey"
"Really?! On the day of the rodeo?!" He crumpled up the note in frustration and ran out of the house.

His grumbling was soon interrupted by a flash of ebony and azure. He found himself on the ground, covered in dirt.
"WHOA" Sunny exclaimed "Good work, Villian, that could be a new record!" She patted the sweaty stallion's lean, muscular neck. He knickerd in reply. "Sorry, Trent" Sunny apologized, taking the boy's hand and pulling him up. Trent dusted off his jeans.
"S'okay, this is nothin' compared to ridin' broncs" he said with a smile.
"Ah, right! Isn't Grand Finale's rodeo today?" Sunny inquired.
"Yeah, but Lacey took Evan 'n Nikki brought Bullet to the auction" Trent said, tracing patterns in the dust with his boot.
"Well Kat's supposed to be coming by soon to pick up Villian, he's going to be in the 50 yard dash. Since he'll already be there, you could use him. And Kylar's been itchin' to get out as well. I'm sure Brad'll be fine with him." Sunny stated with a wide grin.
"That'd be super, Sunny! You just saved my ass!" Trent said with an excited hop.
"No problem, but on one condition; you're giving him a bath" Sunny dismounted and handed the reigns over to Trent. Villian shook his muddy head and stuck his nose in the boy's pocket, licking up what was left of his poptart.
"Oh boy"
_____________________________________

Supervillian breathed in, the brisk October air entering his nostrils. He wanted to run, but Sunny promised him a run after this. Trent was riding him, something that did not usually happen. He figured the boy wasn't too bad, he had poptarts after all. Villian would not consider himself any type of herder, but it was explained to him he would have to do something like it. Trent spoke to the stallion as they stood at the gates.
"I've got to rope the head of the calf, so you need to run right along side it, bud, got it?" he whispered. The charcoal stallion nodded his almost blue tinted head. He thought he understood. It was like racing, but the fence kept moving. Parallel to the calf, got it
Kylar looked over and snorted in approval.
I got the back, you just don't let him get away he told Villain.
The shoot opened with a clank, and the horses were off. Villain got a bit too excited, and ran faster than the calf. He swiftly turned, and herded it to the fence. With the bellow, the calf was roped from both ends and Villain swung around and backed up. The dusk cleared to expose the coal black calf, bound on the ground. Villain was so invigorated, he reared and whinnied a little in excitement, erupting a chuckle from the spectators.
Not bad, kid Kylar nickered You ready to really run?

. . . to be continued . . .

Art and story (c) Becc@ Petersen