INDI;; tannerly [done]

[burty]

INDI ! STOLE YOUR HEART;

They call me Burty (like Bertie ;D) and I've shot for the moon fourteen times.
You know you all love me and you can contact me via PM (: .
Ktxbi.

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� There Goes my Hero;

The birth certificate reads Indi Rudyard Tannerly
But Everyone Calls Me Just call him Indi. It’s already pretty much a nickname.
Ive Been Breaking Hearts for eighteen years
They say I Am A horse whisperer, though he doesn’t consider it a job as he doesn’t make money off of helping horses; not here anyway.
Ive Been Told I Look Like Jamie Bell.

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� Rock and Roll, Baby.;

I am so tall 5’11.
And I Weigh should he know this?
Ive Been Inked And Pierced None.
They always say I look like
Did you ever see such amazing bottle green eyes? Or such messy hair? I didn't think so.
Let's get down to the basics.

Eyes; Indi's eyes...Well they could certainly tell a story or two. He inherited them from his Father, apparently, and they're apparently his most stunning feature. Slightly wide and always shining, Indi's eyes are the colour of a green bottle that sits on the window sill. It's impossible not to get swept up into their colour, and because of his somewhat pale skin, they stand out more than his other features in stark contrast. When he's sorrowed or blank, his eyes generally become cloudy, and it's a surefire way of knowing whether or not Indi is upset or not. Because of this, he tries not to look people in the eyes much; plus he gets terribly embarassed at compliments!
Hair; Indi's hair is wild, unruly and messy. But that's just the way he likes it. In the colour of caramel hues mixed with mottled browns, it's an average combination, but the way in which every strand goes in its own direction and is sometimes straight and sometimes curly makes his hair a bit of a wonder. He loves it as it is, though as a child, had it smoothed down by his Mother every day; something he simply couldn't stand and rebelled against as a kid. Admittedly on some days, his hair simply started out smooth, but those were rare days that were far and few between. So now his hair is wild and messy...and yet, you can't help but want to ruffle it.
Clothes; Indi doesn't really have a fashion. Well, unless you call a shirt, a black hooded jacket, a pair of jeans and riding boots or converse a fashion. Indi likes wearing comfortable clothes, and doesn't really care how old or how expensive they are; he's never worn a suit in his whole life and was never brought up to care about his clothes, after all! He has taken a liking to the Americans' converse all star trainers, and he tends to wear them when he isn't wearing his riding boots. Around his neck is a small necklace he never takes off, that is surrounded with beads and a few animal teeth that his Mother bought in her travels across the world, admittedly for herself, though after her death Indi took them for himself.
Let's wrap this up; Indi in general, could be considered handsome. However, his attitude tends to make people think again. He stands at a good height, not too tall but not too short, and everything fits together perfectly. His pale skin sets a good contrast against a backdrop of unruly caramel-toffee hair and bright enrapturing eyes. He's a bit of a picture really, both up-close and from a distance, there's always something so new about him. It's quite refreshing actually.
This Is What Makes Me Stand Out Ruffled Hair. Bottle-Green Eyes. Long scars on his arms and his back.

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� Chances Taken, Hope Embraced;

I Adore
- Horses
- Drawing
- Music (he plays the guitar)
- Converse All-Stars
- India
- Surprising people
- New Order (the band)
- Stories (told to him, obviously)
- Photography
- Understanding people
I Abhor
- Mistreatment of any animal
- Oranges (ew.)
- The idea of living in England
- Attempting to read and making an idiot out of himself
- People smoothing down his hair
- His photo-book Father
- Doctors (he avoids the hospital as much as possible)
- First impressions
I Rock
- Horse Riding & Helping troubled horses
- Playing the guitar
- Sketching and drawing, both cartoon-style and realistic
- Is determined
- Always wants to help
I Suck
– Cannot write or read anything except his name, his horse’s name and a few horse-related words; he’s illiterate in other words.
- Has trouble socializing with people
- Has a slight form of ADHD
- Has a weakness for pretty faces
- Always wants to help, even when it’s beyond his control (it’s a pro and a con!)
- Sometimes gets sharp pains in his arms or back, due to the accident
I Do
– Bites his lip when he’s thinking
- Goes silent for long periods of time, simply because he can’t be bothered to talk
- Curl his index finger around his hair when he’s nervous
- Tap his feet when he’s impatient
- Cracks his knuckles
I Want
– To learn how to read and write more than just a handful of things
- To make Anju vice-less
- To help as many troubled horses as possible, and become a well-known Horse Whisperer
- To find a place to settle down in, for once
I Fear
– Loss
- Water (he doesn’t mind showers obviously; he’s just scared of swimming pools, rivers and the like, though can swim a bit.)
- Being unable to help
I Shut up
– His illiteracy. This is one of the reasons he tries not to get attached to people; in case they find out, he’s incredibly embarrassed about it
- Any of his fears, he thinks they make him seem weaker than he already is
- His love of people telling him stories; he’s just bashful about it
I am
Indi's a bit of a mystery really. You can never really tell what he's thinking, especially if you don't know him well.
At hand with a English accent and beautiful bottle-green eyes, it's impossible not to find him intriguing...
Indi is generally a solitary guy, preferring to not get involved with people at first, in fear of both them understanding him and in fear of losing them. From a distance, he appears stand-offish and somewhat...Grumpy, caring only about and for horses, and rarely socializing with other human beings. However, once you scratch the surface, you find a diamond in the rough. Once befriended, Indi can be a sweet charming lad with a somewhat strange disposition. Meaning he'll at one point be laughing and joking with you, the next falling into deep silence and appearing as he did upon first impression. He's a bit of an enigma, and people could stay up all night trying to figure him out. However, if you are to become close to him then perhaps he'll let you in on his past...And maybe then, you'll understand him just a little bit better. If only just a little bit.
Indi can have a raging temper if need be, and has been known to put a few dents in cars when the anger takes control. However, it's rare that people talk to him enough for him to hate them that much. Indi may put on a charade of apathy, but really, if he saw someone or something in need; he'd probably almost always help them and at that, would never take a backseat. He's more of a leader than a follower. When nervous, he gets very jittery and stutters quite a bit, despite attempting to keep his cool it's clearly obvious that it's awkward for him. Indi's also a bit reckless. He's put his life on the line numerous times, and each time is never the last; he's a risk-taker, and it's probably just as well he doesn't gamble. At least, not gambling with money anyway...

Of course, it's obvious to see Indi prefers the company of animals than that of humans, much preferring to spend time with his Australian Shepherd dog, Vintage and his troubled horse, Anju than any human consort. But that doesn't mean he's a total hermit...Just a bit cautious. But once befriended, you've got a friend for life...Or at least till the end of his stay in your town.

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� I Know I Won't Be Home At All;

I Came From
Father; James King – raises racehorses somewhere in Kent, England now; sends a large check for Indi every month to look after his horse and himself. That is the only connection he has with his Father, and has ever had; other than looking through photo frames.
Mother; Cassandra Tannerly – dead, ashes scattered somewhere on the river by their old home in India. Raised Indi from birth, but never educated him, thus leaving him somewhat impaired as now he has very little ability to read or write. She bought his first pony when he was four and distilled in him a love of horses that has stayed with him forever.
I Share My Dna With
He had a twin, named Anna, but she died a few months after he was born.
I Come From
India.
But I Live Here Now
He’s just breezed into West Virginia and is renting a small apartment. He moves about a lot and will probably leave the town in a couple of months.
This Is Who I was
Some people would later call it fate that James King and Cassandra Tannerly met, others would call it destiny; Cassandra, in later years however, would refer to it as an accident.
The two met at a London secondary school, just outside of Westminster. It was a privileged area, not the sort of place you'd think to find two rebellious teenagers who cried out to be part of something better than dinner parties and guest invites. When they met it was like they set the fuse off to their own lives; and everyone around them.
Each family said 'No!' but they still managed it, and at eighteen and both their bank accounts bursting, they head off away from dreary old England to travel the world.
They started at the United States, then headed downwards to South America, and from there into Africa, upwards into Europe and finally into Asia.
And when they reached India, they decided they were home.
The two, both lovers of horses, swiftly bought two Kathiawaris (native horses of India) and every evening rode out by the river, where the sun would slowly set and drown in the horizon. They were happy.
But obviously, not happy enough to have a child. Cassandra became pregnant, and as soon as the news hit James, he left for England once more; never to see his dear beloved again. Cassandra was heart-broken and packed away every single photo album into the small hut on the outskirts of the house they had built together. The whole house reminded her of him, the children in her belly reminded her of him; the horses reminded her of him! There wasn't a day that went by during her pregnancy that she didn't cry, and didn't hope that the children would not arrive; so that her sweet James would come back to her.
But he never came back, and the children did come. Two of them.
And suddenly, all her hatred for James disappeared when she looked into those two little babies' eyes. She didn't need him. She had sweet little Indi, and wonderful little Anna.
Anna died a month after the birth. She was just...Just too sick to carry on.

Indi grew up with his Mother, alone, in the wild untamable country of India. He remembered the smell of the flowers at the end of their never-ending garden, the crystal waters of the river flowing with such wonderful grace, the thick smell of the cooking that sifted throughout the little village...It was so peaceful. There were only a few cars, there were no street lamps, no rattling police chases...Just pure silence. It was wonderful. He always hated it when his Mum tried to make him read though, he didn't like it, he didn't want to do it; it was too boring and the world outside was too nice. She eventually gave up. No, it wasn't the right thing to do; but he wouldn't let her have it any other way. She placed him on the back of her saddle on her brilliant dark horse Dylan (named after her favourite musician, Bob Dylan) and told him to cling onto her sides. This was his education, how to ride, how to feel the horse's power beneath you, how to understand their true nature...Natural horsemanship, in other-words.
"We're equals with them, Indi; you have to treat them with respect, you have to act as though they're just like you," she'd always say.
He always believed her though, every word of it...He came to think of horses more human than the world outside.
Horses were magical, and they were his only friends; the children in the village he rarely saw and he didn't have much talent at speaking their language just yet. Horses, however, would listen to him prattle on about his imaginary friend Isaac and how he'd broken Mum's favourite vase and how Indi had got the blame...And they would always just stay there listening, and Indi always swore they were smiling. Who needed anyone else when you had such creatures for friends?

His first pony Talon...He was a wonderful little soul. At already twenty years he was the fastest little pony in all the land, and Indi would tell him so every day. One night, Indi went missing. His Mother was frantic, and after searching the house from top to bottom, found little Indi cooped up in the hay stacks, with Talon munching on hay beside him. Indi loved that pony more than anything, and even at the age of seven, when Indi had a new horse and Talon had to retire to a field; Indi would visit him every day, until he died a year later, and was buried underneath his favourite cherry blossom tree.
Indi's next horse, Anouk, was ten years old and a wild stallion. His Mother was sure that Indi would never be able to ride him, and hadn't the foggiest clue why he had chosen that horse above all others he could have had. But the wild Anouk calmed under Indi's love and care, and the two were inseparable just as Indi and his previous pony Talon had been. It became something of a legend around the village, of the strange seven-year old English boy who tamed a wild savage horse. Of course Anouk had never been savage, just a little bit sparky. But when Indi was thirteen, soon to be fourteen, something happened.

They were riding out on the plains just outside of the village. They had been riding for most of the afternoon, and it was the Monsoon season; so rain was soon expected. At the first little pitter patter of rain, Indi decided to head back at a fast gallop. But he wasn't faster than the speeding rain. When they reached the river, it had burst its banks. They could find no way around and Indi, being the foolish thirteen year old he was, decided they could swim across. Even the strong mass of bulk that Anouk was could not battle the current, and soon, the two were swept out into the rapids. Indi realized that now he was going to die, the Anouk would thrash him off his back and Indi would plummet into the rapids and drown. But Anouk did not. Anouk held fast. The horse, the wild stallion he had cared for so dearly, made sure Indi did not fall. Then the rapids became rougher and Anouk's head was split open by a rock, and Indi was later washed up on shore; found by his Mother, who was sure she had lost her son.
It is an odd thing, a coma. It is simply a deep sleep, and Indi awoke from it swiftly; none the wiser that he had broken both his legs, had the most severe of cuts down his arms and back, and had been in a deep slumber for a whole year. The Doctors told his Mother that he would be lucky to be able to run, and that he would never be able to ride a horse again. He was found sitting out in the fields, only his Mother's horse left to roam after Anouk's demise, and the only noise you heard was his Mother's ear-piercing shriek of delight as she saw her son riding on the back of the fabulous old Dylan, who was still as hardy and wonderful as he had always been. Indi never bought another horse, but he gained a name for himself within the village, as the boy who could tame even the wildest of horses. People would travel with their troubled horses from all across the region to see him, and were rarely left disappointed; Indi didn't know why he had become so sought after, why he had such a bond with horses, but he knew he had to help. Something had unlocked within him when he awoke from that coma. He finally knew his destiny.

He decided to educate himself. Of course, he could barely read or write, but he knew a few countries' names, his own name, a couple of odd names he'd heard about and a handful of horsey words; but his Mother had videos about history he could watch, and he stole her notebook and pencil to draw in. He discovered he had a hidden talent, and soon began feverishly drawing everything he could see; he loved portraits and cartoons best. He managed to teach himself the guitar, after learning a couple of chords off of his Mother, and discovered a passion for not just horses, drawing and history, but also music. It didn't equate to knowing how to read a story-book from start to finish...But it was something.

At seventeen, disaster struck. He remembers the day all too well. He was out in the fields once more, with a family with a dangerous and wild mare. He had been working with it all day, and after a few kicks and a couple of bites; he believed the horse was ready. Indi always ended it like this, putting his life on the line, putting trust in the horse. He crouched on the earth and looked it in the eyes, watching its every move, his large bottle green eyes transfixed with the horse's all-knowing gaze. The horse hazily walked towards him and dipped its nose to him, nudging his chest lightly, and slowly Indi stood up; brushing the horse's muzzle lightly, beckoning the male owner to come closer. The man, nervous as he should have been, walked towards Indi and the mare. Still the mare did not back away. The owner lay his hand on the horse, and the mare did not back away. Indi moved away from them, still the mare did not back away.
The man gasped with delight.
"My God...It is a miracle...A mere boy helped my mare..." he uttered in his native tongue, facing Indi, "You are a miracle worker! I shall thank you for the rest of my life! Thank you, thank you! You...You must allow me to pay you, I insist!"
Indi shook his head with a smile, "Don't worry about it, it's my pleasure."
Then there was a scream, and the two men both looked towards the river. Indi faced the man and nodded with a smile, muttering, "Your mare's lovely by the way!" as he rushed towards the river. A woman was on her knees praying to the Gods, and he looked past her, and his eyes widened and then flittered shut as he fainted.
There, his Mother had been lying, dripping with water; dead with a big cut across her forehead.

From then on, Indi managed the house in India alone and he began having to charge people money for his talents. He had to sell the calm, wonderful Dylan to the kind man with the mare; though the man told him he could come any day he wanted for a few rides on either Dylan or the man's now placid mare. Indi held him up to this, and usually came once every week or so. Life was a bit bland from then on...Even when he helped horses and owners, he still felt like he was missing out on something.

One day, as he was going through some of his Mother's junk she'd left behind; he came across a box of photo albums. Opening them up, he found all of the places that his Father and she had traveled. This was the closest Indi had ever been to his Father, and it stunned him. He noticed the similarities he shared with the man in the photos, and looked at how happy his Mother was. He'd never seen her that happy in all his life. He finally came to one of the last photo albums, and this made up his mind. The pictures were of places in America...And that's where he would go, as soon as he gathered the money. Which, surprisingly, was going to be sooner than he thought...
Eighteen years old. He was finally eighteen. And that's when he received the money. His Father...The man in the photos, had given him money...Indi couldn't help but feel bitter. This was meant to be his way of reconciling, of making up for the eighteen years of not being here...And it left a bitter taste in Indi's mouth.
But that certainly didn't mean he wasn't going to use this money.
He can't remember the exact numbers, it was alot, though...And of course, with it, he bought a first class ticket to America.

He was on his way to getting out of India, he was going to America...Sitting in the taxi cab and driving past the buzzing streets was exciting for him, he'd rarely been beyond his village...And that's when he saw her. There was a large traffic block in the road, and it wasn't going to be cleared for quite some time (luckily, Indi's flight was quite late in the evening and it was early afternoon) and on one side of the road, there she was, rearing, biting, kicking, whinnying like no horse he'd ever seen before. He jumped out of the cab, telling the driver to wait, and rushed over to the scene. She was a new horse, only two and a half years old, surely and he was pretty sure she was an Akhal-Teke...Her coat was light bay, but she gleamed bright red in the sunlight. And her eyes...Her eyes certainly told a story or two. The men were shouting at him to move away, that this horse was dangerous, and that certainly no white man could handle her. She was certainly dangerous...This horse meant trouble, she'd already brought down one of the men with one foul swoop of her hooves. Indi moved closer. The horse reared more and nickered at him in warning, and the men shouted more and more. But Indi just moved closer, stopping only a few metres away. Then the horse stopped. She burred deep in her throat, and tossed her head, threatening Indi, trying to make him afraid.
"I'm not afraid of you," Indi said, smirking.
The horse snorted, pounding its hooves on the earth.
The men around him chuckled.
"Ah, you must be that boy from the village; the 'horse whisperer'," they laughed, "Well, if you think you can tame her, have her; here are her papers, she's only just come into the country, no quarantine needed!"
They chucked her papers at him and passed him the rope that was tied around her so he could lead her. Indi sighed. He took his bags out of the cab and paid the man his rupees and decided to walk to the airport.

Surprisingly, it wasn't too difficult for Indi to get the horse flown out with him. In fact, it was quite a simple procedure. And before he knew it, he and the wild horse were in America; though were told as they landed, that that horse could never travel on the airway's plane again, for she'd damaged her whole holding cell. Indi bought a trailer and a red pick-up truck with the rest of the money and packed the horse inside, watching her from a small hole in the trailer.
She kicked the doors and paced, whinnying to get out, to be free...
"What should I call you?" he muttered to himself, before grinning, he remembered the name...It was the name of one of the girl's in the village, he'd always liked it, "Anju. Anju Harinakshi."
From then on, they traveled across America together (and get kicked out of a few stables in the process due to Anju's horrifying violent behaviour); and every month, Indi would recieve money, from his photo-book Father. Enough to keep him going at least.
This Is Who I am
He’ll be gone soon, don’t you worry.

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� This Heart It Beats;

I Lust
Hetero. That’s straight, dears.
I Love
People who don’t judge him.
I Loathe
People who know his past and smirk.
Maybe I loved
He’s moved around too much to even consider it.
Maybe I Didnt
N/A.

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� This Is How We'll Dance;

I Bow Down dude.
I Am Awesome (this is awful xD but I have no muse at the moment, so please forgive me!)
"You can't go now, Indi!"
The man spun on his heel to face the voice, muttering to his dog to heel and wait beside him, whilst the rattles from the horse trailer became louder and louder as the horse within built up more aggression.
"I told you from the beginning I was only staying here for a month, it'd interrupt my plans to stay here longer," He said, not looking at the girl who was nearing tears.
"So what was this all to you, Indi!? Was I just a cheap fuck, and was this just a boarding house for you and your stupid horse!?" She cried in a shrill tone.
Indi looked to his left, where the sun was starting to set; he really had to head off before the traffic started on the roads again...He turned back to look at the girl, her thick red hair brushing against her face as she cried some more and the red light of the setting sun danced across her pale cheeks and was captured in the tear drops.
"I'm sorry, but you know I can't stay here; the guys who run the place were already sick of Anju's temper, they were going to kick me out anyway!" He said, exclaiming towards the end of the sentance and half wishing he hadn't.
It made him seem angry with her. He wasn't angry, just trying to explain.

He reached his red pick-up truck with a very sore left cheek, and his dog Vintage whined a little as he jumped up onto the seat beside Indi; watching his master obediently. The sound of Anju's aggravated cries and whinnies filled the air whilst she kicked at the door ferociously. One of these days she was going to break her legs...
Indi shook his head, thinking for a moment as he sat in the faded leather seats of the truck, and behind thick sunglasses you could probably see that he was tearing up. He was getting sick of this life, and very fast...He'd only been in America for a few months, only six, and already he was tired of uprooting his life every time he felt the need for change! Maybe it was him that needed changing.
It just seemed that moving about from place to place, month after month...It was getting tiring, and the people he'd managed to hurt over that time (not including the people Anju hurt!) was already building up, and gaining pace fast. Despite his cold facade, he really didn't enjoy hurting people the way he did; maybe next time...maybe next time it'd be different. He'd see. He put the truck into the correct gear and started driving, looking out from his wing-side mirrors at the large stables he was leaving behind. Vintage sat beside him, whining a little as he would every time he could sense his Master's disappointment. As he came to the end of the drive-way, he noticed the elderly man who owned the livery and he braked, opening his window and leaning his head out of it.
"Where are ya headed, Indi?" the man asked.
"I think I'm gonna head for West Virginia...I've heard about a couple of places that might hold up Anju for a while," he said, not removing his sunglasses in fear of the man seeing how upset Indi was at leaving this homely little barn in the middle of Ohio.
"Ahh...Well, I 'spose I'll tell you how to get there, what with your..." he thought of how to put the word, "disadvantage..."
The man quickly gave Indi directions (Indi had a tremendous memory, luckily) and then told him something else.
"Ain't a finer stables but this one in a little town down in the middle of West Virginia...I think even Anju might find it nice there," he said, pivotting idly on his heel, "It's called Pinewood, used to keep a few of my horses down there till I got my own place...You'll find it by yourself, don't you worry."
Indi furrowed a brow, but nodded in thanks, shaking the man's hand with a grin and finally driving off. Night was drawing in and Indi quickly put on his favourite New Order CD, and immedietly Ceremony started blaring out of the stereo. Vintage curled up into a ball on the seat and slept, whilst Indi kept on driving.
He felt like such crap. He couldn't keep moving on like this, he had to find a place to settle down in...He just had to.

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Thanks Isa for helping =]

[Cheyenne Kings}]

Accepted!
Great application! Welcome to Pinewood (and we hope Indi stays ;] hehe)
<3 Chey