( BAD REPUTATION ) MAYA&WINT

[GABRIEL LIAM TORTONI]

The smell of axe filled the bathroom, steam coated the air in thick coats, making it nearly unbreathable. but gabriel didn't care, in fact he felt as though he had all the time in the world. standing under the heated ray of liquid, the twenty three year old scrubbed his partically shaved scalp. after shampooing the streak of brunette in which ran down his skull, gabe rests his head lazily against the wall, allowing thoughts to take over. he was finally out of his parents house, and dammit he was happy to be happy. placing both hands on the higher on the shower wall, gabriel removes his head from the slick tile with a groan. tight and lean muscles moved in protest as he rolled sore shoulders, clearly billy was trying to kill him. the hot headed bronc decided he disliked the english saddle gabriel was trying to teach him to use, and when he wasn't paying attention colt flipped him. it hurt like hell, let him tell you. therefore when the hot water rolled over his tense muscles, gabe moaned in pleasure. the heat loosened the knots and made his knees weak, it is then while he is in complete bliss, his goddamned land lord turns off the hot water.

as quickly as possible, gabriel turns off the water. his five nine frame straightens, a dull pain throbs in his shoulder as well as in his forearms, but he ignores it to the best of his ability. stepping out of the shower and into the half bath, gabriel waves steam away from his face, running a hand over the fogged mirror; gabriel's reflection becomes visable against the glass. reaching for a large towel, grey and full, he wraps it tightly around his waist before opening the mirror up and pulling out a toothbrush. after placing a hefty amount of toothpaste upon the stiff bristles, gabe begins to thoroughly brush his teeth. upon cleaning, he began to think about tasks of the day, and what he was supposed to do. heavily sighing, gabriel rinses his mouth and gargles a bit of mouth wash. tightening his towel once again, gabriel makes his way through the darkened apartment and towards his small, neat dresser. for a guy, his room was pretty clean, the only thing that littered the floor was three pairs of boxers, and a few pairs of worn jeans. gabriel liked to keep a clean enviorment for his studies, in made things easier to find too. sighing, the man lets the gray towel drop and his hands pull on a pair of black boxers.

his eyes are drawn towards the mirror in which is placed above the dresser, grinning at his reflection gabriel flexs his arms above his head, kissing both of his guns, he laughs at himself before reaching for a pair of jeans in which were thrown on the floor. they fit as though they were tailored on, but truthfully they were worn to the point in which the stress points were white and a knee was torn open. without really paying much mind to what he was grabbing, gabriel throws on a black tank top. not only does it show off his arms, [in which are very lovely] in which also show cases his muscular stomach and chest. finally having settled on heading over to the kennedy barn to work with his beasts, gabriel's hand reaches for his worn helmet in which he's had for years, as a going away present from his sister. anyways, jumping into the old, beat up, blue chevy, gabriel took his time getting to the stable.

rosses point was defidently a pretty town, and gabriel really enjoyed staying there, the people were nice, the weather was nearly always sunny, and the community was nearly stalker free. with positive thoughts now filling his head, he pulled into the stable about fifteen minutes after he had left his small apartment. killing the engine and pocketing the keys, he heads into the large, crowded barn. rather then heading towards his horses first, he retires towards the tack room, where on one arm he hangs his saddle pad, halter, and girth, while the other holds his grooming kit. strolling back into the hallway and ducking under a few cross ties, gabriel adventually lands infront of his horses stalls. placing his things down where he wanted them, he quickly goes to retrieve colt's bitless bridle. the quarter horse was tall despite his breed, and is as hot as an arabian.

leading the bronc from his stall, gabriel begins to thoroughly clean his horse. colt had been given to him as a gift, the ivory colored bronc had been around for seven years, and for all of those seven years he'd been with gabriel. as a foal colt was a pain in the ass, he knew how to steal and move the things you placed in front of his stall. the only plus of having his thick headed bronc, was that he drew in the ladies, rather easily actually. as soon as colt began to grow though, his attitude got worse, but that was fine with gabriel, he liked a challenge. and so it began, gabriel and colt's relationship was one not to be messed with. with thoughts of the past filling his head, gabriel realizes that he's actually finished tacking up. but he doesn't get on the now pacing bronc, instead he weaves through the crowded barn and leads his horse to the arena, in the process, he nearly bumps into a pretty blond, instantly a blush is upon his cheeks, as he quickly says an apology, "sorry, lass, didn't see you there."

feeling his horses head thrust forward to smell the girl, he lets out a soft, warm chuckle in which was pleasing to ones ear. "it probably doesn't help that he's a nethanderthal." signature, knee weakening smirk in place, he runs a slightly nervous hand through his strip of hair, before waiting for the girl to speak.

[/justify][/blockquote][/blockquote]

TAGGING MAYA && WINT !
WORDS 1000ish. !
WEARING COMINGSOON !
NOTES ERGH. THAT TOOK FOREVAR. !
LYRICS BAD REPUTATION BY JOAN JETT !
CREDIT R A W R IT’S E M M A ! OF CAUTION ![/COLOR][/FONT]

[AZARIA JAIDEN EASTON]

She had been up too early for her liking as she cursed her jet lag. She had been here nearly three days and she was suffering from the numerous flights it had taken to get her here. Ireland was a beautiful country and nearly took her breath her way as she had stared at the vast expanse of green. The green here was deeper and appeared a bit lusher than back home. Kentucky would always be home but around here, she was sure she would get accustomed to her surroundings and the time change, she could only hope. Brown colored eyes shifted from one end of her apartment to the living room she was sitting in currently. Her eyes soon drifted back to the window that was framed with the calm colored curtains that had been pulled back. In her hand she held a steaming cup of tea and sipped it lightly, eyes glued as the sun began to creep up over the horizon that made Azaria want to get lost in its array of colors. Yes, she could definitely get used to this.

With a satisfied smile, she rose to her feet and stretched out her limbs. Her small muscle mass grew taut beneath her tan skin rolled and soon relaxed as she shuffled about her cluttered apartment. She had boxes stacked upon boxes as she had very little time to unpack. Her horses came first and after getting the all clear from quarantine, they had been trailered over to the barn she was boarding at. She needed a fresh start and what better way than to get one in a place across an ocean and on another continent? She walked into the bathroom, touching her hair lightly to find that it was still damp from the shower she had taken earlier. Despite herself, she wasn’t tired which only irked her a bit. She needed sleep and she was grateful that beneath her sienna colored eyes there were no bags that had formed. Shaking her head, she messed with it a bit before it dried in its normal wavy nature. Giving herself a once over, she smirked with satisfaction.

The petite blond who barely reached the height of five feet two inches, scanned the room for her hat. Her eyes roved over the boxes that nearly loomed over her. She sighed to herself, mentally chiding herself to finish up around here after she returned from the barn. A proud smile rested on her lips as she found the ever evasive cowboy hat her father had given to her before she left. She missed her old man but hell; he was missing out on the beauty of Ireland. She donned the hat upon her head, letting its rim shadow her eyes as she stepped out the door. She jogged down the flight of stairs before reaching outside. She inhaled the air with contentment, feeling the slightly warm air hit her bare arms. She merely wore a plaid colored button up. Her lower torso was covered with a pair of jeans that Azaria had worn one too many times and despite its frayed appearance, she couldn’t part with them. She had spent hours riding in these jeans and damn it all, they were the comfiest pair she owned. Besides, they followed the curves of her body and well, what more could she ask for?

She watched the street for a moment, half expecting cars to go whizzing by but then again, from where she lived in Kentucky and now here in Ireland, nothing was all that different. It was almost identical to the moseying town she had come from but she stuck out like a sore thumb with her accent. She supposed it was her that had the accent around these parts as she talked with a relatively moderate Southern accent but it held a charm to it. When she spoke here, most of the people stared at her as though she were talking a completely different language. It was safe to say that the Irish brogue had been growing on her, all too quickly for that matter. In all honesty, she’d much rather listen to them talk because it simply amused her to hear the words that rolled off their tongue. She was hopeless, she decided as she began to move towards the Silverado she was lucky enough to bring with her.

The silver Chevy held a dull gleam in the sunlight and was bit covered with mud. She hadn’t the time to wash it before she packed her things and moved and Azaria shrugged to herself. It gave the truck a bit of an interesting look about it, she guessed as she slid into the driver’s seat. She had the entire truck modified, well the front end of it as Ireland drove in strange ways. She smiled to herself as she turned on her CD player, allowing her loud Country music lull her into calamity. It was a sight to behold as the girl with her short height could easily navigate a rather large truck with ease. The roads of Ireland took some getting used to as there were more potholes. She had lived on a dirt road and hardly cared if the cab rattled but she gingerly swerved away from them as best she could now. Yes, she was certainly helpless.

The truck squeaked as she turned onto the drive of the barn and parked it. She dropped down onto the earth in her cowboy boots, a bit of dust billowing around her as she strode into the aisle with proud steps. She smiled as she passed by her red roan gelding and dapple gray mare. She spoke to them softly before entering the tack room and appearing with her arm full of tack and a grooming kit balanced on her Western saddle. She walked back towards where her gelding was now and he looked at her with anxiety. The poor boy had been nearly scarred from the entire process but he was thrilled to see her. Leading him away from his stall, she groomed him thoroughly before tacking up. Nimble hands worked the leather as she did up the girth and smiled as Pride stood still as she placed on his bridle. She patted his neck proudly as she walked towards the arena. She was just adjusting the girth when she almost crashed into by a man and his horse. She took note of the blush and his quick apology, and smiled warmly at him as she heard the accent come through. ”It’s alright. It is pretty darn hard to see someone this short,” she joked light heartedly about her height and turned to survey the horse he was indicating about. His owner and the horse were both fine looking men but Azaria wouldn’t voice this just yet. She laughed gently as his horse sniffed at her in which she held out her hand to the horse to sniff and do as he pleased. A teasing and warm grin pressed onto her lips as she turned, staring at the man. ”Oh, I’m not so sure about that but you know what they say, like owner, like horse.” She gave him a playful wink, laughter flowing easily from her in a rather effortless way, hoping to ease his nerves. She was pretty sure she was right well, appearance wise him and his horse had rather muscular physiques which was hard to miss. She swung up into the saddle and entered the arena, leaving the gate open. ”You comin’ in, Irish or do I have to wait until you bump into me again,” she inquired in light tones, eyeing him from under the brim of her hat as her warming smile overtook her features to show she was poking fun at him, hopefully he could take a joke.

CREDIT SAM !? of Confronting the Faceless. Don't remove the credit or I will find you. LYRICS brick by boring brick - paramore NOTES EPIC POST! : DWORD COUNT lots : P

[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]