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!.
"Clearly, I'm the spoon in the knife drawer." Alisha gave her a withering glare, yeah something like that. Probably not even a spoon, given that Alisha could quite easily use that as a weapon as she could a knife or fork. If she were angry enough, she could probably use anything, realistically. She had been known to wave a utensil around like wielding a weapon when she was in a mood, but she was yet to stab anyone, so she had that going for her.
Some might ask why she was telling Wynnie this. She didn't have to, didn't owe Wynnie shit, especially not an explanation or a window peak into her life or her past. Not many people knew where Alisha came from, or what she'd crawled out of, and she intended to keep it that way. Her parents hadn't had a penny to their name, and when they did, it was spent on crack - food was a lucky spare thought. They'd gone and gotten themselves into some miserable shit, and in the end it had killed them both. Sometimes it felt like years ago, like she'd just been a kid, when really it was only a few years ago. She'd been sixteen when her parents had been shot for the debt they owed the dealer, she'd already been looking after herself since she was a child, she was good at looking after herself. She felt like she was falling apart a little right then though, trying hard to hold on. Maybe it seemed odd that she'd only been given one thing by her mother in all sixteen years, but she'd never had birthdays of Christmas presents, they couldn't afford them.
"I'm sorry, Alisha,""Don't." The word was firm, almost a snap. She didn't want or need bullshit apologies or sympathy from Wynnie of all people. "Had I known it was your mom's, I wouldn't have done that." Alisha still didn't look at her, looking instead at the hopeless array of shattering pieces. Maybe it was good, to be rid of it, considering what a shitty parent her mother had been. "Because it's okay to break shit when the person is alive." She countered, as if Tripp had all the money in the world, as if that hadn't cost a fortune. "Get the fuck out." She finally look at Wynnie, fury burning in her gaze. "Good luck finding your shit."