I decided to post what we had on the neopets board, akita. might as well. (:



My introducton:
Jousting, to him, was just another word for the thrill - a thrill that had the adrenaline rushing through your veins, urging you to kick your heels into the your horse's flanks to get it in to gear for the the impact that was bound to come. Resisting such a temptation required a self-control that he had practised, that he could maintain even when the brink of tension was about to collapse. Of course, his steed, being the sensitive, alert beast that it was, needed to be handled carefully. The charger sensed his moods perfectly, reading every movement and weight shift that he produced as impatience to start the impending joust. Thus, it danced in anticipation, more than eager to charge in to action, to gallop down the runway at full tilt, without any restrictions. He would gladly oblige at any other time, allowing the charger such a privilege. Instead, the man reined in the four-legged beast, patting its strong neck to settle it down, to tell it by touch alone that now was not the time to prance about. For the moment, the rider took the chance to survey the people that had come to watch, though his interest in the bystanders didn't hold for long. He was more interested with the animal he rode on, a giant grey, that snorted and shook its armored head. The body-armor that it wore was that of a rich, grey-steel colour that seemed to work well in contrast to the hue of the beast. The caparison, on the other hand, was of a fuchsia, the intricate emblem embossed on both sides being that of a white, thorned rose.

While Fairstrider (the charger) stamped his ebony hooves harshly against the worn earth, Marluxia toyed with the helment held underneath his arm. Today was rather humid, working a strain on him that only made his temper slightly thinner. Though his features stayed lax and expressionless, giving off the impression that he was bored to hell and back, sitting here on a saddle that wasn't all that comfortable, and he seethed inwardly. Beginning right about now would be much appreciated. A casual flicker of his gaze to both sides foretold that the audience was also raring to have it start; the growing mutters of excitement were starting to elevate, and finger pointing toward the competitors waiting for the signal becoming more frequent. Typically he shared their thoughts - by giving the opponent opposite to him and his lane an indifferent look, the other rider appeared just as anxious to joust any time soon.

To tell the truth, Marluxia didn't mind the wait. Winning afterward was consolation enough. Hearing the crowd cheer for him was pleasant: what jouster didn't like the spotlight of attention after winning? Seeing his opponent don on his helment, the pink-haired man parroted the action, carefully securing the helment held under his arm over his head. Adjusting it and adjusting himself into a more content position, the man waited patiently for one of the younger boys that kept possession of the lances to hand him his own. Before long, he had the balanced weapon in hand, Fairstrider practically bouncing up and down as the audience all around crowed, happy to see that things were starting to pick up. Finally.

Any moment now, the gun would sound and he would bury his heels in to the beast's sides, soon charging full power down his designated lane. Feeling confident, he straightened himself temporarily, at the ready to lean forward and bring his lance upward. Calming down the grey as he began to prance from side to side in earnest, Marluxia waited patiently, sure as anyone can be that it would start in a matter of seconds.

Bang! went that gunshot, chasing all thoughts from his mind. Right now, all he knew was jousting, steering the horse, and breathing. Slamming the spurs into Fairstrider's flanks, Marluxia leaned forward, partially neck to neck with his charger as it barreled toward the other end with neck outstretched. Now able to see through the helmet he bore properly, the man calculated his charging foe for what felt like a second before abruptly sitting plank-straight right at the moment of impact. A cry of surprise rang out, that of which he had assumed to be his at first. Though he quickly grew aware, finding himself completely safe on the opposite edge of his lane. In the middle, the fallen jouster lay smack on his back, groaning occasionally. Hurriedly, Marluxia dragged the helmet off, blinking at the loser.

Grinning once realization hit, the Assassin raised his helmet in acknowledgment as the crowd cheered for him. He had been hoping that it would be a show that they'd enjoy, and it obviously had been. Waving his free hand once, Marluxia took the reins that he had neglected a minute ago and tugged, forcing his horse to leave the list. Just because the beast was excited and snorting up a storm didn't mean it could get trotting right about now. Ignoring the announcement for the next persons to compete, the pink-haired jouster merely guided his whinnying steed forward. A fleeting glance was cast in a competitor's way - a short one, in fact. Only raising an eyebrow, Marluxia halted the animal near the entrance, not bothering to dismount. Yes he was, in fact, interested to see the outcome of this match.

This wait was much different from the one he had had to endure earlier. Mostly because he wasn't the one waiting for the joust to begin, speculating on things that could be inevitable if the wrong thing was done or something was in error. Intrigue actually piqued for once, Marluxia nonchalantly inclined against Fairstrider's neck, the said horse settling down. For once. He was too feisty for his own good, Marluxia found sometimes. But, nonetheless, the charger was good and viligant, hardly complaining and trustworthy to the bone. Perhaps not that much. He wouldn't dare to trust the animal enough to leave him untied. Undoubtedly the horse would stray off.

The echoing sound of lance meeting cuirass brought him to his sense. Shaking his head, Marluxia squinted his eyes at the large bout of dust that had been kicked up, clearly wondering who had been the unfortunate. His wondering was answered when it cleared, and the young teen that he had spotted on his way to the exit was painfully sprawled on the earthy ground. He felt like laughing with the rest of the crowd, and the winner, but it just didn't seem to be all that appealing. Merely frowning at Roxas, Marluxia spun his steed around and forced it out the exit (once again, the eccentric horse was winding itself up, all because the idiots on the stands were hollering and hooting at the defeated).

Sighing, he led Fairstrider in to the stable close by, absently rubbing his mount's ear. Maybe he'd give the horse a few carrots. He may have done the jousting, but the equine had done all the arduous running, after all. Swinging his leg around to dismount meticulously from his steed's broad back, Marluxia stretched himself, bringing his arms up over his head (along with the helmet that he still had in his grip). Yawning leisurely, the Graceful Assassin eyed the outside of the stable as he ushered Fairstrider in to place. Quickly he spied the youth that had lost in humiliation to the other knight, also having to put up with the jeering crowd; though he said nothing, occupying himself with taking the chanfron off his horse's cranium.


Roxas:
The pain in Roxas' chest was enough to make him collapse right then and there, but there was no way in hell that he was going to let the crowd shoot him down anymore than he already was. Gritting his teeth in frustration, the blonde tore off his helmet from his head, revealing a flustered face underneath.

He held the helm under his arm while he gripped at the bridle with his other hand, finally leading himself and Twilight's Keeper into the cooler stables of the area. Tying his horse to a post with slapdash haste, the winded teen proceeded to unhook the chanfron from his steed's face, followed by the rest of the tack before he actually began to take off some of his own armour.

Blue eyes flickered to their left, spotting a pink-haired jouster he swore he passed when he first exited the coliseum. Roxas narrowed his eyes at the other, before going back to his task. Unhooking and undoing the saddle on Twilight's saddle, the knight took it off and draped it over a wall of a nearby stall; Twilight's, he supposed, but he didn't really care if it was his own or not.

"Congrats on winning, Marluxia."

Words ground out to be murmur, there was always room for congratulations to others, but it didn't mean there had to be included politeness, either. Rather, it was Roxas' current foul mood that made his words so icy and cold towards the ones he decided to speak to.

Dropping his helmet, cuirass, and other armour to the ground with a rushed action, he vaguely listened to them clatter noisily onto the firmly-packed earth. Wasn't there supposed to be a rule regarding about hanging up your armour when you were done?

Obviously, Roxas had overlooked it.

Shooting Marluxia another glare, the blonde fetched a bucket nearby and made his way out towards a well, where he got a bucketful of water to wash down his horse with.

Stomping back (yes, stomping; our little blonde has issues with losing) into the stables, Roxas dropped the bucket with a loud clank, then turned and leaned on the side of the stable with his back against it.

Now he didn't feel like doing anything. Laziness.

Twilight's Keeper was acting like a stubborn mule now; kicking the bucket of just-filled water with his back left foot. Roxas gasped, widening his eyes. "Twilight!"he hissed, moving the felled bucket out of the way with his foot. "You wanna act like that, you're no better than a freaking donkey."

Untying the reins from the post, he slapped the horse's flank and made him whinny in annoyance, before it trotted out briskly and into the afternoon sunlight.

Now alone, Roxas decided to pace off his anger. How was he going to win the next joust with /nothing/ planned ahead of time?


Marluxia:
By the time the youth had brought his charger into the stable, Marluxia had already displaced all the armor from Fairstrider's body, taking his time in discarding them, piece by piece, into one of the stall's far corners. The saddle, with their stirrups, had been removed beforehand, carefully placed on the side of the horse's stall - the caparison was draped lightly beside it. Eyeing Roxas in his peripheral vision, the Assassin softly rubbed his mount's muzzle as he studied the small blonde, who entered with a face that looked more than furious once he had wiped off the helm. Pretending he didn't notice the other jouster's entrance, Marluxia began unclasping the hindering parts of his protection, allowing only the chainmail to be left behind.

For a while now he had been weighing whether or not he should keep silent - it would be rude, he thought - but he didn't exactly feel like speaking. The blonde, however, fixed up that dilemma pretty fast. Holding back the urge to arch both eyebrows, Marluxia eventually brought his line of sight in Roxas' direction. What was his name again? Oh, right. "Hm, thanks, Roxas. I suppose." Pursing his lips at the icy youth as he began taking off his jousting attire, the pink-haired man bent down to retrieve the bucket full of water to freshen his own horse, just as Roxas went to fetch some for his charger. If he hadn't been focused on attending to his horse at the moment, he was positive that he would have remarked on that unneeded glare. What had he done, besides win his joust? Unlike Roxas, he had been prepared beforehand. Marluxia had figured that he wouldn't be in the mood, after his joust, to get a bucket of water for Fairstrider. Commencing the washdown - he didn't want the beast to get dehydrated, especially after the match - the man barely heard Roxas re-enter the stables. Though the clank the bucket made when it made connection with the closely-packed ground borrowed his attention for the minute. Lazily lifting his head to stare at Roxas blandly, the man finished up watering the horse.

For a moment he considered taking the bridle and reins from Fairstrider - he had forgotten about them, truthfully. Although, a relaxing ride, he thought, was called for. And why not do it bare-backed? Taking a hold of the said reins, Marluxia whistled lowly to the fidgety steed as he led him out of the stall.

Roxas' horse's act didn't go by unnoticed, and neither did the younger man's comments. Giving the blonde a disapproving glance, Marluxia mounted, graciously tall enough to be able to get on Fairstrider's back without help. He may not have guffawed along with the rest at Roxas' defeat, but now he felt like compromising a bit. Annoying the blonde sounded appraising. Gently kicked Fairstrider in to a suitable, rolling trot, the pink-haired man made him follow after Roxas and his mount, Twilight's Keeper. Bringing the grey to brusquely walk by the Key of Destiny, Marluxia smiled. Neither friendly or unfriendly. If Roxas didn't feel like being courteous to him, well. Politeness didn't seem to matter at the moment. "It looks like you had quite the fall."