Welcome to Hickstead, home to both Seven Oak Stables, and Blue Acre - two rival stables. Both offer opportunities for their clients to reach the highest level of excellence. Each stable differs from the other, so choose wisely and never forget, loyalty is everything... Meanwhile as the stables battle it out, there's trouble brewing at the university. Be careful, if you don't pick a side you may get caught in the cross-fire...
This is an chilled out rpg with a super friendly and relaxed atmosphere! Remember to sign up with your characters full name in all caps and don't forget to do your claims! Thank you and Welcome, we've been established since 10th March 2009 but unfortunately have had to close guest view of our boards due to multiple sites ripping off our hard work, such a shame! Come chat to us in Discord before joining if you like!.
It had been a long day, and despite work not needing her for the whole shift, she'd gone home and done her best to organize her flat. If she was being honest, she would've preferred to have stayed at the shop and just chatted with the guys - as much as they were both a pair of grumps, they were entertaining, distracting. Going home meant being alone with her thoughts and the stark reminder that she still had boxes to unpack and laundry to do.
Of course that was not going to fly, because after a single box, she was frustrated and immediately gathered up her stuff for the gym. It wasn't that the flat was bad, it was just a reminder of her upside down life that she was trying to put back together. But she was getting there, even if it was slow going. But that frustration bubbled under the surface and she was sure she would've broken something if she kept going. So the next best option that could tire her out and get her to settle was hitting the gym.
Hopefully there was a line up of guys waiting to get their heads kicked in. She could hope so. Prayed for it. She did enjoy beating down the boys that thought they would get an easy beat down on her. It was thrilling as much as it was dangerous. She was a lithe build, next to no padding against her body, so sometimes the kicks and punches hurt more than she expected.
Even still, she was going to get her kicks, even if that meant nursing her own injuries for a week or two until the bruises and tightness faded to invisibility. Then she'd go right back at it and hope that the pain after that would be less. She walked into the gym, tying her hair back before searching out the next available punching bag for her to warm up on.
Toby was not in the best of moods - which you probably wouldn't even notice unless you knew him well. He generally wore a serious expression most of the time, if anyone had a proverbial cloud permanently fixed above his head, it was Tobias. He hadn't always been like this... well, honestly yes he had. He did laugh, and smile, but those were few and far between miracles and it had to be something good to get him going. His buddies in the army had done the trick, and he'd had it good with them. Now he'd been discharged for temporarily leave, and though he'd signed up as a police officer and gotten through the questionnaires and then the fitness and medical tests; he would have contested it if he didn't, but he didn't know what else to do with himself without the army.
He had made his new routine, and he was set in it. Some people thought it might be a bit obsessive, or that it might boarder on OCD considering how far some of his routine went. He woke up at the same time every day, he would have the same breakfast, come to the gym at the same time. It only worked whilst he was on the day shift at work, he knew he would have to change once he was changed onto other shifts. For now, he stuck with what he knew, it helped to keep him settled. But so far, his alarm hadn't gone off on time as his phone hadn't charged properly overnight, he'd woken almost at the right time but was still late. His eggs had gone off and breakfast had been plain toast - not really enough. the traffic to the gym had been awful, and now as he'd turned up, his usual punch bag was taken. He scowled at the tattoo'd woman who was at his usual spot and reluctantly took himself to the punch bag on her left to warm up.
She noticed him almost instantly, assessing him from the corner of her eye and she worked over the bag. Young, fit, but altogether too... stiff? He had a frown like someone shit on his breakfast and kicked his dog all in the same hour. She wasn't into that as such, but hell, it had been a while since she'd teased a guy a little bit. Maybe once she was done she could try play around.
She kept working the bag, changing up sets as if her coach was there yelling at her. Her thoughts walked off on her, dredging up memories, bringing out a sudden anger that boiled up out of nowhere, throwing punches harder and harder. She knew anger wouldn't get her far, that she had to have skill enough to keep going, had to fight to hope and move on through each day.
Something cracked and popped loudly, causing her to yelp, the white wraps turning pink. Growling, she moved back and felt her knuckles, sighing when she found them in the wrong spot. Unwrapping everything revealed the mess that was her hands - her knuckles re-split and a couple of joints dislocated. As much as it hurt, Hayes still stood there and slowly popped the pieces back into place. Her doctor had said her hands were getting weak because she wasn't letting herself recover enough, but the fact that she'd done this for so short a period of time was a little more alarming. Perhaps she did need more than a few days to recover.
It took him a while to settle into it. Toby had never been very good at change, which might seem odd for someone that had been in the army - things changed - but realistically, the army was all about order, structure and routine. He had copied that over to his life now, his routine, and it worked for him. Structure, it was how he ruled his life. Some would think it rigid and unnatural, but he didn't seem any problem with it - the only times that it became an issue was now. The bag didn't feel quite right, he couldn't quite get into his usual rhythm, his punches felt off. His frown deepened as he tried to push through it, trying to shake off the feeling that things were off. It was difficult, but he pursued it all the same, wanting... no needing, to find that space in his head where everything went quiet, everything just went white and shut off - concentrating and thinking of nothing but the feel of the bag under his knuckles, the sweat down his back, the burn of his muscles as he worked.
He had just nudged into a sweet spot when the person who had taken his usual spot made a noise, disrupting his quiet place and interrupting his workout. He let out a noise of frustration, a small grunt as his swing went a little wide and glanced off the bag instead of a direct hit. Fuck sake. He paused, not bothering to start up straight away again. He took a moment to take a swig from his water and wipe the sweat from his face before he bothered to look over at why the girl had interrupted his workout. His frown moved a little, if only slightly, to see her popping knuckles back into place. Interesting choice of workout given the state of her hands already - unless she'd just manage to do that to herself. He wasn't sure from where he stood, but it didn't all look recent. "Are you self harming?" He asked, surprising himself. He didn't always bother to speak out to other people, he wasn't looking to make friends or anything, he had his life and he liked how it was, but occasionally his mouth opened and shit came about before he thought twice about the consequences.
The question alone was enough to make her lookup from what she was doing, only to realise it was the younger man across from her. She looked back at her hands and realised that most people didn't do what she did on a routine basis.
She shook her head as she popped the last knuckle back into place, carefully flexing her hands, "No. Though I can understand why you ask, most people don't have hands as messed up as mine."
He didn't expect her to answer, he probably wouldn't have, depending on his mood - politeness to females did tend to war a little if he was feeling up to conversation. She might not have even heard him, Tobias hadn't exactly shouted across to her, not really interested in some kind of small talk. His fault for having opened his damn grumpy mouth. She at least looked up, and the professional in him looked her over once, cataloguing the woman in one fell swoop - from the tattoos to the posture, he deemed her a troublemaker and not someone he'd be interested in.
Toby didn't flinch as she popped the last knuckle back in, most people probably would have, but he'd seen worse in the army - ten times worse. "No. Though I can understand why you ask, most people don't have hands as messed up as mine." He shrugged slightly, annoyed at himself for having asked in the first place. It was none of his business if she was, and he wasn't one to hold hands and cry about shit. "Why do you?" It was a little blunt, because he didn't really want to be asking but for some reason he was.
