ArchivedLogs:Ponies!

Ponies!
No, really! Ponies!
Dramatis Personae Jackson, Micah
In Absentia	24 April 2013 Jax helps Micah make some new pony pals.
Location <XS> Stables
The distinctive smell of hay and sawdust and horses greets visitors to this large barn, kept well-tended by the stablehand and those who have a passion here for equestrianism. The horses at Xavier's are well cared for, stabled in comfortable stalls. The walls host a plethora of tack for those who wish to take a jaunt around the grounds. The ride out to Xavier's is kind of a haul. Probably not aided by the cheerful stream of text messages Micah is receiving from Jackson. Who -- might be kind of bored? Maybe? There is not really any coherent narrative to his texts. He is chattering about BEES and chattering about gardening and chattering about flying unicorns and whether Micah might perhaps like a TATTOO (of bees? Who knows) and intermittently also deciding OOPS shouldn't text, you're driving. And then texting again anyway a few minutes later. It's possible he's on /crack/ or maybe just a serious sugar high; certainly by the time Micah /arrives/ he is bouncing off -- ok, not the walls, but only by dint of being outside. He's near the stable doors, playing with a game on his phone that seems to consist of nothing but pretty colours swirling around, and watching the sun glint off the nearby lake. /He's/ pretty much nothing but colour, himself, metallicky-blue jeans and a sunny yellow top and a broad-brimmed silvery Stetson and around him there are a veritable swarm of dragonflies in brightbright colours. Shiny metallic green and vivid blue (to match the dragonfly tattoo hidden away beneath his shirt) and purple and black and iridescent wings. Maybe Ivan is rubbing off on him. Micah is /giggling/ as he pours out of the driver's side door of his recently parked van, slamming it closed behind him. Jax's instruction of 'comfortable clothing' has resulted in a short-sleeved button-down in dark green, worn unbuttoned over a plain white T-shirt and rainbow-patched jeans. Auburn hair is sticking out at angles from under a greenish-brown newsboy cap. He trots his way over to Jax. "Ohmygosh, hon! What is up with you? You been so excited that /I/ been bouncin' in the seat most of the way here!" He doesn't sound annoyed, just curious, and his smile is bright. Jackson zoooooms over towards Micah, giving him more of a /tackle/ than a hug although it does at least /end/ in proper hugging. He's fiercely warm to the touch, and his swarm of dragonflies comes with him, swirling around Micah's head and then vanishing. "SORRY. Sorry? Wait is that a thing I should be sorry about I don't know. Sometimes I'm just /bouncy/ you know? Sunny days make me bouncy -- um /hi/. How are you was the ride OK? I know it's kinda long I just wanted -- it's so /nice/ today it is /not/ a time for citying." Micah squees at the tacklings, trying his best to keep his footing. This may involve latching onto Jax with both arms. "Ohgosh! No apologisin'! I'm happy y'wanna do things an' you're all bouncy and sunny! I'm just...curious!" Once he's no longer in danger of being bowled over, Micah rubs his hands in little circles along Jax's back. "Nice to spend time with you. Don't mind much the what or where." Jax squeeeezes Micah close which, at least, means he is kind of strongly /supportive/ through misplaced footing. He doesn't really let go afterwards, pecking Micah lightly on the cheek when back-rubbing happens. "I just, it's so nice and I -- I just wanted, I mean, OK I /always/ like spending time with you but I wanted to find something /you/ liked and I thought maybe -- well sorry um, sorry, I mean, c'mon!" Only here does he disengage, enough to slip his hand into Micah's and tugtugtug towards the stable door. Micah is giggling again at Jax’s exuberance. His hand squeezes back at Jax’s when he pulls, allowing himself to be led closely. “Yessir! I’m comin’!” He picks up the pace to decrease the need for pulling. Jax's fingers lace through Micah's. He pushes one of the heavy barn doors open with a shoulder, leading Micah in to the smells of hay and leather and horse. "-- I mean you said you liked riding and today it's /gorgeous/ and you have to meet Ramiel she's basically my babygirl -- you can tell which one she is because she's the /prettiest one here/." With the finger-lacing, Micah brings Jax’s hand up for a quick kiss just above the knuckles. “I did say that. Y’got your own girl? I do have to meet her, then.” His tone is sort of giddy-playful, but he keeps his movements relaxed and voice soft once in the stables. "Yeah! Yeah. I mean no. I mean she's not /mine/ -- I mean /my/ boy is back down in Georgia at home but -- but she's like my /adopted/ babygirl anyway." Tugtugtug, Jax is leading the way down the row of stalls. A large chestnut mare pokes her head out towards them hopefully; a speckled grey and white gelding does the same. Perhaps Jackson is /known/ as an enabler of treats. He leads the way past them to a tall black mare, white-starred and white-socked, who is already searching him for treats when he leans up against her stall door. Not very /effectively/, though, mostly just nosing and lipping at his hair. "This is Ramiel. Rami, this is Micah. He's /also/ kinda my baby." In response to this, Ramiel -- mostly just still noses at him. “Adopted’s every bit as valid,” Micah jokes, his nose crinkling in amusement. His eyes are wandering, taking in a new place with new things and also /pretties/! He blushes faintly at Jax’s turn of phrase in introduction, and offers the back of his hand for inspection. Casually, and at a distance where the horse will have to choose to bring muzzle to hand. “Nice t’meet y’there Rami-girl,” he greets, breathy-soft. Jackson's cheeks tinge, slightly, and his gaze falls for a moment to the ground. His smile doesn't fade, though it is softer, now. "-- Yeah, adopted's still family." He watches as Ramiel gives up her snuffling, having failed to discover raisins /or/ sugar cubes in Jackson's hair, and presses her nose into Micah's palm instead. "Ramiel's an angel," he informs Micah, "-- I mean named after an angel. I name all my horses after --" His cheeks colour a little darker. "-- I guess there's an angel Micah, too, but --" He is watching Ramiel nuzzle at Micah's hand, and after a moment he digs into a pocket, excavating a napkin that is enfolding a small bundle of raisins. He presses three into Micah's free hand. "But I thought maybe I could take you riding while there's still some sun and warm left, the -- /most/ of them here are real chill, uh, OK maybe you don't so much want to ride Cato --" He's eying the grey and white gelding from before, "-- but otherwise mostly chill." Micah’s cheeks settle on a fine apple-red as he finds himself placed neatly in a naming paradigm by sheer coincidence. “Ohgosh… I guess that means these fellas are fine with hand-feedin’ treats?” He nods to indicate the raisins and checks for a sign of dispensation prior to offering them to Rami. “Any of ‘em more used to Western saddles? Postin’s kind of annoyin’ with the…” He shakes his left leg a bit. Which causes him to notice his sneakers. “I…am not wearin’ the right shoes.” "Yeah, she's used to it, she's gentle." Jackson lifts a hand, gently petting at the side of Ramiel's neck. She carefully lips the raisins out of Micah's palm. "I mean, they're kinda used to a bunch of teenagers who don't all really /know/ much 'bout horses, /you're/ probably like a breath of fresh air. And probably -- more'n half of them are used to -- Ohgosh." His smile crumples as he looks down, but then his expression just fades into something sheepish. He dips his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Ohgosh. What size do you -- maybe you can borrow -- M'sorry I don't, um, I'm not always good at -- thinking sorry I don't -- have -- the best -- foresight." Micah is distracted by Rami taking the treats, and he sort of /burbles/ happily at this. It has been awhile since he had the chance to interact with horses! “Not to worry. I have littlefoot. Because I started walkin’ late an’ I’m kinda small-framed t’begin with. Usually work well in an 8.5 to 9. Which might do well if your spare gear here is for teenagers…” A grin plays across Micah’s features. “S’okay. I just keep things I don’t use much in a box in Janine’s storage unit at her building. Ain’t a lotta space to clutter up in the /not/ bigger-on-the-inside TARDIS.” His free hand rubs at Jax’s arm reassuringly. “An’ even if they don’t have any spares, I’m happy just to hang about. Do some groomin’. Make new friends.” "-- You have /Littlefoot/?" Here Jackson gets excited again. A tiny baby apatosaurus materializes beside them in the aisle, cartoony and very much not apatosaurus-sized. More large-dog sized. Jackson's nose crinkles up, his smile still sheepish. "Oh -- oh I mean I bet they'd /love/ to make new friends but /no/ we are /totally riding/, I'm gonna find -- OK just wait make some friends have some raisins I will /find/ you shoes." Jackson pecks Micah on the cheek, darting off to the far back of the stable to SCROUNGE. The dinosaur butts his head up against Micah's leg, though this feels like nothing at all. Ramiel, at least, has substance to her nosing. Micah has to strangle back what probably would have been horse-spooking (or at least horse-/annoying/) levels of laughter, but eventually makes its way to a soft chuckle. Because there is 3D ‘Land Before Time’ happening /at his feet/. “Ohgoshohgoshohgosh.” Horses and dinosaurs! Micah’s brain is all full of /squee/! He does busy himself with making friends while Jax is gone. After providing Rami with adequate attention (likely more /Micah’s/ definition of adequate than Ramiel’s own), he wanders over to introduce himself to the chestnut mare who had been first to greet them when they arrived. It takes a while. Jackson searches through a lot of spare boots and shoes. Littlefoot fades away in the meantime. He finally emerges /triumphantly/ with a bright smile and a pair of boots in size eight and a half. "That one's Zenith," he tells Micah quietly, "she likes watermelon rinds way better'n raisins, I think the kitchen might've had --" He shakes his head, leaning in to peck Micah on the cheek. "Y'all makin' friends? Do you like her? She's a real gentle ride -- though well ummm I tend to think /anything's/ gentle in a Western saddle, um, but she's a sweetheart y'want to tack her up? There are some /gorgeous/ trails around here and --" His cheeks are still kind of flushed as he slips his hand into Micah's. "Sorry. I -- ramble. I just wanted to --" His smile is small, now, but soft and warm. "C'mon. Let's -- ride." "Hey, there we go. Boots! Thanks." Micah takes this offering from Jax and looks for a place to sit himself for doffing and donning of footwear. "Oh, goodness, I can tell ya she took well enough to bribery with the raisins. And she's a bright one. Curious. Usually get along with the ones that show an interest on their own." Micah is off to giggling again at the accusation of easy riding with Western saddles. "If y'knew how complicated it was to adjust the suspension on a prosthesis to make it not rub or pinch when postin', you'd appreciate the easy, too. Much kinder on the leg to sit a jog than post a trot." A fair bit of untying and tugging and adjusting later, and Micah's footwear is more appropriate. He takes Jax's hand on rising. "That was the plan." He nudges his shoulder into the other man's playfully. "Lead the way."