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Description

~~~~~~~~~~~

Horse: AA Carissimo

Rider: Lance Visser

Event: Global League of Deities, sixth venue, based on Instagram

~~~~~~~~~~~
((Content warning: Drug use))

  Tesco. Burger King. Ikea. Taco Bell. Asda.
  The bell rang, clattering through the arena like a call to attention, and the horse under him shot forwards once again, ears pinned back.
  Lidl. Iceland. Aldi. Nestlé. Findus.
  Which one would take Hyde? Would he make a better burger or ready meal?
  The black stallion threw his head up and let out a deafening whinny, calling back to his teammates in the warm up ring, and circled frantically. Normally being in the ring would calm the horse down, but this venue seemed to be the exception. His anxiety was visible, the whites of his eyes flashing as he stared down the jumps, swerving and snorting as if the llamas had grown teeth and were waiting to devour him, fangs flashing in the Peruvian sunlight.
  Lance had gotten cocky at the Azores, relaxed in the warm weather, messed around with Nikki, acted as he thought he would on the tour. And to be fair, Hyde had responded well. Their round had actually been good, one Lance would almost consider up to his usual standard, and he'd slacked off for the rest of the month instead of trying to capitalise on Hyde actually listening for once. Inevitably Maureen had yelled at him for that when he got back on Hyde a few days ago and almost got thrown off of the side of the cliff, but what's done is done. Now he was stuck with a strung out horse, forty-eight unread emails, and Stupid Horse by 100 Gecs stuck in his head thanks to Addison re-joining them for this leg of the tour.
  Shit, he was cutting the time close. Squeezing Hyde slightly, he asked the horse for a canter, only to be met by a pathetic half rear that Lance would scoff at if he didn't have a solid ten seconds to make it over the first fence.
  Come on, you daft bastard, this is the one thing you can do.
  Hyde seemed to grasp the urgency, shooting off at a brisk canter once his front legs hit the ground again, leaving Lance slightly scrambled and fighting to get his head back. A solid vertical stood upright a few strides away, adorned with gold statues on either side, and Lance held on for dear life as Hyde leapt at it a stride out. Poles scattered everywhere, all three rails splayed out on the ground, and as if to make the whole situation even better, he caught one between his back legs. Clearly Hyde wasn't a fan of the impromptu BDSM session between him and the pole, the horse letting out a strain of bucks and kicks, even once the pole was metres away.
  This was fucking awful. Lance couldn't do much but attempt to get his head back up, and the second jump was coming all too quick. Two glossy golden llamas stood end to end, and the reflection was Hyde's last straw - the horse planted his feet in the middle of the course. The sudden stop in momentum threw Lance forward onto his neck, and in the midst of him clambering back Hyde reared up erratically, pulling the reins out of Lance's hands and leaving him grasping for them.
  Yeah. This horse was definitely a Tesco burger waiting to happen.
-
  "Lucien."
  "Hmm?" The younger man turned, giving Lance what he presumed was an apologetic look, before turning back to his phone. "Oh, hey. Sorry about the round."
  Unsurprisingly, the rest of the round had been as chaotic as the beginning - the fact Lance was still standing was a miracle. Hyde had swerved, leapt, crow-hopped and flung himself around the arena with little concern for the poles or his rider, and Lance hadn't even had time to apologise to his team yet. He was a little glad Eden wasn't on the tour anymore, after that round he was sure she would've gelded them both.
  Lucien Archembeault was slumped back against a rock, away from the bustle of the showgrounds and hidden slightly by some of the staff trucks. His blonde hair had started to curl more than usual from the dry heat, the sunlight catching off it and trailing down his strong profile. Always pretty, but always on something. What that something was seemed to change every time.
  "Sit down. What do you need?" He asked nonchalantly, moving over.
  Lance paused, wondering just how much this decision would come back to bite him, but settled down beside Lucien anyway. "Pentobarbital, ideally. But whatever you have."
  Lucien snorted. "Is that for you or Hyde?"
  "Both. Take us both out. Save a lot of people a lot of misery."
  Rummaging in his pockets for a few moments, Lucien twirled a joint between his middle and index finger, passing it to Lance with a raised eyebrow.
  "...I'll pay you later?"
  Lucien paused to consider it for a moment before shrugging and nodding, accepting the promise as payment and passing him the lighter.
  "You're a saint."
-
  Time drifted from there, the afternoon sun beating down on them as they chatted quietly, the blunt passed back and forth. Lance could feel the tension from the morning lift as his mind grew blurry in a familiar way, his muscles relaxing against Lucien's weight as they watched the clouds drift by.
  "I thought I was done with all this," he chuckled humourlessly, "but here we are."
  Lucien shot him a side eye, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards.
  "Why?"
  "Why what? Why did I quit or why did I start again?"
  Lucien shrugged, taking another hit and blinking away the sunlight.
  "Well, the answer to the latter comes in the form of a nightmare horse from hell who's life mission is to actually, physically kill me, and who's attempts are getting closer to the mark. The first one is because my friend refused to speak to me until I gave up after I kept calling her to fix whatever I'd fucked up."
  "-Yeah, and she's also been looking for you for the past half hour." A sharp voice snapped, the pair turning sharply to see who it was. A woman stood, hands on her hips at the entrance to the little hideaway, clearly unamused.
  "Nikki!" Lance grinned, scooting over and beckoning her to join them. Rolling her eyes, she reached forward and grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, taking a long drag before coughing. Clearly, she'd presumed the substance was something a little more legal.
  "Val is going to kill you." Nikki sighed, giving Lucien a once over and a nod.
  "No. She's going to kill us." Lance cooed in response.
  Nikki paused, looking back over her shoulder once or twice before resigning herself and unbuttoning the top button of her show shirt, sitting down beside Lance and Lucien.
  "Only a little. I'm still traumatised by Magaluf."
  Lucien raised an eyebrow at her, glancing between her and Lance.
  "What happened in Magaluf?"
  Dropping her head to her hands, Nikki yelled into them, rubbing her eye sockets. Lance however just grinned wickedly, glancing between the two of them.
  "Alright, the year is 2012, and she'd just turned 18-"
  Retelling old stories was always fun, at least for him. That sweet spot in his life when he was old enough to appreciate being young, but young enough that he could utilise it. It hadn't lasted long, that era ended when he was twenty one and engaged, but the stories from then were certainly tinted with less pain than anything after. Stepping up from 1.20 tracks on his 14.2 to 1.50's on his first proper horse, midnights spent at the creek near HHS with Val playing Mayday Parade on an ipod touch, the loud jibes and teasing between him and Nikki that they never quite grew out of... being an adult had never quite compared.
  The trio stayed like that for a while, chatting and laughing and avoiding their responsibilities, and for the first time on the tour, Lance felt normal. Azores had been nice, but it still had that tension that had dropped from his shoulders right now. Lucien was good company, Nikki was his best friend, and there was no mention of one particular-
  "Hey, Lance, what happened to Hyde this venue? He literally fell apart. The team hates you." Nikki interrupted, never one to sugarcoat her words.
  "Don't ask me that. I have no idea. I hate that horse so much. Between him, and people suddenly asking about Amelia again, and that bitch who keeps messaging me on Facebook about meeting up even after I told her I wasn't going to be back in England until tax season... I'm fuckin' exhausted. I genuinely don't know what to do."
  A silence fell over the trio, each knowing that the statement carried at least a little honesty, until footsteps could be heard around the area. Lucien glanced at Lance, clearly not looking forward to another person being squeezed into their little den, but a familiar (and angry) redhead turned the corner.
  Michael stood in the makeshift entrance, arms folded over his chest and a face like thunder.
  "I have been looking for you fucker's for an hour. Did you forget we still have the press release? Horse & Hound are probably going to file a formal complaint because they've been waiting so long for interviews. And don't get me started - hold on."
  His gaze narrowed as he studied the situation in front of him - the sickly sweet scent in the air, Lance's heavy lidded eyes, Nikki's dopey grin, Lucien slinking into the corner as much as someone of his height could - after all, this wasn't his fight - and realised the situation.
  "Oh... my god. Firstly, I feel like that shit is totally illegal to do on the tour-"
  "There's no real regulations about it" Lucien offered, getting him a glare from Michael.
  "That doesn't mean I want my team getting high instead of doing their jobs. You're both.... god, I don't even know what to say. Nikki, you just joined and are already pulling this shit? Thin ice. Lance, you started on thin ice, at this point I think you're just drowning, but I will do my best to lie about both of you. Nikki, the heat got to you and you have heatstroke, and after all that shit Hyde pulled in the arena, I can probably get away with saying you-" he growled, pointing his riding crop in the vague direction of Lance "-have motion sickness. Don't talk to me."
  Michael turned and stormed away, and Lance couldn't blame him in the slightest. He was right, on all accounts. The thin ice he'd been perched on for the last few years had started to crack a few venues ago, and now he'd been plunged into the icy depths below without remorse. It felt awfully like 2016 again, the same feeling of scrambling for something, anything, but this time he doubted he had the same lifelines as he used to.
  Frankly, 2020 was shit.
-------------
Originally posted in September 2020. Characters mentioned in the story belong to the following on instagram: Bellacioarts (Lucien), Red.undead (Nikki), and Avaimawi (Michael)
Finally getting the old stuff out the way, should be able to start posting some newer stuff soon!
Ref: Jumping stock 239 by Bundy-stock

Description

~~~~~~~~~~~

Horse: AA Carissimo

Rider: Lance Visser

Event: Global League of Deities, sixth venue, based on Instagram

~~~~~~~~~~~
((Content warning: Drug use))

  Tesco. Burger King. Ikea. Taco Bell. Asda.
  The bell rang, clattering through the arena like a call to attention, and the horse under him shot forwards once again, ears pinned back.
  Lidl. Iceland. Aldi. Nestlé. Findus.
  Which one would take Hyde? Would he make a better burger or ready meal?
  The black stallion threw his head up and let out a deafening whinny, calling back to his teammates in the warm up ring, and circled frantically. Normally being in the ring would calm the horse down, but this venue seemed to be the exception. His anxiety was visible, the whites of his eyes flashing as he stared down the jumps, swerving and snorting as if the llamas had grown teeth and were waiting to devour him, fangs flashing in the Peruvian sunlight.
  Lance had gotten cocky at the Azores, relaxed in the warm weather, messed around with Nikki, acted as he thought he would on the tour. And to be fair, Hyde had responded well. Their round had actually been good, one Lance would almost consider up to his usual standard, and he'd slacked off for the rest of the month instead of trying to capitalise on Hyde actually listening for once. Inevitably Maureen had yelled at him for that when he got back on Hyde a few days ago and almost got thrown off of the side of the cliff, but what's done is done. Now he was stuck with a strung out horse, forty-eight unread emails, and Stupid Horse by 100 Gecs stuck in his head thanks to Addison re-joining them for this leg of the tour.
  Shit, he was cutting the time close. Squeezing Hyde slightly, he asked the horse for a canter, only to be met by a pathetic half rear that Lance would scoff at if he didn't have a solid ten seconds to make it over the first fence.
  Come on, you daft bastard, this is the one thing you can do.
  Hyde seemed to grasp the urgency, shooting off at a brisk canter once his front legs hit the ground again, leaving Lance slightly scrambled and fighting to get his head back. A solid vertical stood upright a few strides away, adorned with gold statues on either side, and Lance held on for dear life as Hyde leapt at it a stride out. Poles scattered everywhere, all three rails splayed out on the ground, and as if to make the whole situation even better, he caught one between his back legs. Clearly Hyde wasn't a fan of the impromptu BDSM session between him and the pole, the horse letting out a strain of bucks and kicks, even once the pole was metres away.
  This was fucking awful. Lance couldn't do much but attempt to get his head back up, and the second jump was coming all too quick. Two glossy golden llamas stood end to end, and the reflection was Hyde's last straw - the horse planted his feet in the middle of the course. The sudden stop in momentum threw Lance forward onto his neck, and in the midst of him clambering back Hyde reared up erratically, pulling the reins out of Lance's hands and leaving him grasping for them.
  Yeah. This horse was definitely a Tesco burger waiting to happen.
-
  "Lucien."
  "Hmm?" The younger man turned, giving Lance what he presumed was an apologetic look, before turning back to his phone. "Oh, hey. Sorry about the round."
  Unsurprisingly, the rest of the round had been as chaotic as the beginning - the fact Lance was still standing was a miracle. Hyde had swerved, leapt, crow-hopped and flung himself around the arena with little concern for the poles or his rider, and Lance hadn't even had time to apologise to his team yet. He was a little glad Eden wasn't on the tour anymore, after that round he was sure she would've gelded them both.
  Lucien Archembeault was slumped back against a rock, away from the bustle of the showgrounds and hidden slightly by some of the staff trucks. His blonde hair had started to curl more than usual from the dry heat, the sunlight catching off it and trailing down his strong profile. Always pretty, but always on something. What that something was seemed to change every time.
  "Sit down. What do you need?" He asked nonchalantly, moving over.
  Lance paused, wondering just how much this decision would come back to bite him, but settled down beside Lucien anyway. "Pentobarbital, ideally. But whatever you have."
  Lucien snorted. "Is that for you or Hyde?"
  "Both. Take us both out. Save a lot of people a lot of misery."
  Rummaging in his pockets for a few moments, Lucien twirled a joint between his middle and index finger, passing it to Lance with a raised eyebrow.
  "...I'll pay you later?"
  Lucien paused to consider it for a moment before shrugging and nodding, accepting the promise as payment and passing him the lighter.
  "You're a saint."
-
  Time drifted from there, the afternoon sun beating down on them as they chatted quietly, the blunt passed back and forth. Lance could feel the tension from the morning lift as his mind grew blurry in a familiar way, his muscles relaxing against Lucien's weight as they watched the clouds drift by.
  "I thought I was done with all this," he chuckled humourlessly, "but here we are."
  Lucien shot him a side eye, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards.
  "Why?"
  "Why what? Why did I quit or why did I start again?"
  Lucien shrugged, taking another hit and blinking away the sunlight.
  "Well, the answer to the latter comes in the form of a nightmare horse from hell who's life mission is to actually, physically kill me, and who's attempts are getting closer to the mark. The first one is because my friend refused to speak to me until I gave up after I kept calling her to fix whatever I'd fucked up."
  "-Yeah, and she's also been looking for you for the past half hour." A sharp voice snapped, the pair turning sharply to see who it was. A woman stood, hands on her hips at the entrance to the little hideaway, clearly unamused.
  "Nikki!" Lance grinned, scooting over and beckoning her to join them. Rolling her eyes, she reached forward and grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, taking a long drag before coughing. Clearly, she'd presumed the substance was something a little more legal.
  "Val is going to kill you." Nikki sighed, giving Lucien a once over and a nod.
  "No. She's going to kill us." Lance cooed in response.
  Nikki paused, looking back over her shoulder once or twice before resigning herself and unbuttoning the top button of her show shirt, sitting down beside Lance and Lucien.
  "Only a little. I'm still traumatised by Magaluf."
  Lucien raised an eyebrow at her, glancing between her and Lance.
  "What happened in Magaluf?"
  Dropping her head to her hands, Nikki yelled into them, rubbing her eye sockets. Lance however just grinned wickedly, glancing between the two of them.
  "Alright, the year is 2012, and she'd just turned 18-"
  Retelling old stories was always fun, at least for him. That sweet spot in his life when he was old enough to appreciate being young, but young enough that he could utilise it. It hadn't lasted long, that era ended when he was twenty one and engaged, but the stories from then were certainly tinted with less pain than anything after. Stepping up from 1.20 tracks on his 14.2 to 1.50's on his first proper horse, midnights spent at the creek near HHS with Val playing Mayday Parade on an ipod touch, the loud jibes and teasing between him and Nikki that they never quite grew out of... being an adult had never quite compared.
  The trio stayed like that for a while, chatting and laughing and avoiding their responsibilities, and for the first time on the tour, Lance felt normal. Azores had been nice, but it still had that tension that had dropped from his shoulders right now. Lucien was good company, Nikki was his best friend, and there was no mention of one particular-
  "Hey, Lance, what happened to Hyde this venue? He literally fell apart. The team hates you." Nikki interrupted, never one to sugarcoat her words.
  "Don't ask me that. I have no idea. I hate that horse so much. Between him, and people suddenly asking about Amelia again, and that bitch who keeps messaging me on Facebook about meeting up even after I told her I wasn't going to be back in England until tax season... I'm fuckin' exhausted. I genuinely don't know what to do."
  A silence fell over the trio, each knowing that the statement carried at least a little honesty, until footsteps could be heard around the area. Lucien glanced at Lance, clearly not looking forward to another person being squeezed into their little den, but a familiar (and angry) redhead turned the corner.
  Michael stood in the makeshift entrance, arms folded over his chest and a face like thunder.
  "I have been looking for you fucker's for an hour. Did you forget we still have the press release? Horse & Hound are probably going to file a formal complaint because they've been waiting so long for interviews. And don't get me started - hold on."
  His gaze narrowed as he studied the situation in front of him - the sickly sweet scent in the air, Lance's heavy lidded eyes, Nikki's dopey grin, Lucien slinking into the corner as much as someone of his height could - after all, this wasn't his fight - and realised the situation.
  "Oh... my god. Firstly, I feel like that shit is totally illegal to do on the tour-"
  "There's no real regulations about it" Lucien offered, getting him a glare from Michael.
  "That doesn't mean I want my team getting high instead of doing their jobs. You're both.... god, I don't even know what to say. Nikki, you just joined and are already pulling this shit? Thin ice. Lance, you started on thin ice, at this point I think you're just drowning, but I will do my best to lie about both of you. Nikki, the heat got to you and you have heatstroke, and after all that shit Hyde pulled in the arena, I can probably get away with saying you-" he growled, pointing his riding crop in the vague direction of Lance "-have motion sickness. Don't talk to me."
  Michael turned and stormed away, and Lance couldn't blame him in the slightest. He was right, on all accounts. The thin ice he'd been perched on for the last few years had started to crack a few venues ago, and now he'd been plunged into the icy depths below without remorse. It felt awfully like 2016 again, the same feeling of scrambling for something, anything, but this time he doubted he had the same lifelines as he used to.
  Frankly, 2020 was shit.
-------------
Originally posted in September 2020. Characters mentioned in the story belong to the following on instagram: Bellacioarts (Lucien), Red.undead (Nikki), and Avaimawi (Michael)
Finally getting the old stuff out the way, should be able to start posting some newer stuff soon!
Ref: Jumping stock 239 by Bundy-stock