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!.
Cora already knew she was going to be in massive trouble, but she was out now, what were they going to do about it? Drag her back? In public? She'd make a scene - a huge one. She wasn't above that, even as she inched toward thirty years old. She had been living in Hickstead for all of two weeks, and this was the first time she'd managed to get away from her bodyguards (she wanted to vomit at the word, it was disgusting), the first time in weeks she'd actually been able to take a breath. It was suffocating, always being under watchful eyes, always having people monitor you and what you did and said. Hell, she joked she couldn't even go to the toilet without someone having to stand watch. It was pathetic. Like anything was going to happen to her - several generations down the line, there'd have to be a lot of assassinations before she picked up a crown - or a really ridiculous plane crash.
She shouldn't joke about it really, but joking kept her sane, kept her from wanting to scream. It was half chance, half luck and just a little bit of skill that had allowed her to slip away from her 'guards' - they were security detail technically, but it felt too much like being guarded. They were to protect her, she knew that, but they also kept her in line, they also watched her, reporting back to her parents on her behaviour, her actions and decorum. As much as they pretended to be friendly, they were not her friends, and she was well aware of that. Exhausting.
But, she was out now. She didn't have ID, which sounded silly, but she'd never sat behind the wheel of a car let alone applied for a license, and though the bouncers had given her a thorough look over and hesitated, she'd slipped them a hefty bribe and they'd let her in with a grunt. This kind of establishment was far below the type she'd normally be seen in, but she didn't want to be prim, proper and sophisticated right now. She wanted to drink cheap alcohol, and dance with sweaty bodies she didn't know, and flirt with a stranger. The idea of going home to her empty, ridiculously big hotel suit sounded miserable. Striding forward straight to the bar, she muscled her way in, half grinning at the press of people around her, and tried to flag down the busy bartender for a drink.
Grey listened to the chaos around him as he rested his elbows on the bar and watched the screens as some music video played out. He didn't care about the actual game, it was just another meaningless distraction to him in a world of bodies and bass boosted music. He didn't even know why the videos were playing as no one was going to watch them, not that they were the most thought provoking one could've played.
Either way, he dropped his eyes and took another swig from the lager bottle in front of him. He wasn't in the mood to appreciate finer drinks when the bruise on shoulder was throbbing like hell. He'd been called out to a job in the later afternoon for a mare who had thrown a shoe on a jump, and when he'd gotten there the sight was not a pretty one. Some of the nails had sheared and ripped at the hoof severely, leaving Grey with the unfortunate task of trying to remove the nails and set things right. Naturally the mare was in pain, and he had nothing that would help sedate her even a little bit and he'd offered to call the vet out for assistance on the matter but the owner had begged otherwise - told him that they couldn't afford a vet call out.
Grey had been pointed, perhaps a little too much at the time, that they shouldn't even own a horse in that instance. It almost caused its own slew of problems as the partner of the distressed lady had invited him to square off and Grey knew he'd have won it, but his job was at stake and likewise his reputation. So he did it after telling them that it was ill advised and that he was not able to see what other damage there was to the injury but he'd been brushed off. He had to take his sweet time, but of four nails, he managed to get three out without issue - much to the smugness of the owner. The fourth however proved to be the kicker and as he eased it free, it must've hurt something as the mare thrashed her foot and swung around delivering a nasty bite to his shoulder. To say that he'd sworn was an understatement. The couple laughed and Grey was almost tempted to throw in the towel over the matter, but he did what he could and once he'd packed up the couple refused to pay for his services.
That was the straw that pissed him off. So whilst he sat in the emergency waiting to get seen to, he put in a not so anonymous call to the authorities in regards to animal welfare and the fact he hadn't been paid. He told the officer on the other end everything - even down to his own smart comment in the beginning, was thanked and assured that someone would be out to attend and possibly seize the horse from the owners. Grey even offered to take the horse if that was the case - he mightn't have ridden, but he would've made sure the recovery was smooth. The wound itself was not great, requiring a dozen stitches but Grey was fine with that - wasn't the worst injury ever. Disinfected, stitched, patched up and given pain relief, the doctor ran over the usual spiel about watching for infection and to take it easy.
And yet he was here at the bar drinking - despite the label on the meds - trying to enjoy what remained of a tattered evening. Chatting to the bar staff made things better, and two drinks in, he was over all feeling a little better about the day he'd had. So when a new body shuffled up the bar, he actually looked across to see whom it was just in case it was a friend. It wasn't, which furrowed his brow a little bit. If anything she looked out of place but he couldn't find a reason why, it just seemed... off, as she tried to get the barman's attention. It was almost comical.
"You don't look like you're from around these parts," he said, a brow raised as he readjusted to fit himself more comfortably at the bar.
The bartender seemed to be ignoring her, and she frowned, irritated. She wasn't used to being ignored. Cora didn't even need to snap her fingers to gain the attention of everyone in the room and generally her whims were met before she even needed to lift a finger. The guy's back was to her, and when he did turn to face her side of the bar, his eyes glazed over her waving hand as if she didn't exist. Her frown deepened and her gaze narrowed as she zoned in on the girls he was happy to serve - it wasn't like Cora was unappealing to look at, and she'd made somewhat of an effort with her hair and make-up; she couldn't not, it was too fixed into her daily routine to be made up before she left the building. God forbid someone see her au naturel. Glancing at the outfits the other girls wore however, she figured it was likely the lack of cleavage that was doing her wrong, or part of it at least.
She glanced down at her own neckline and pursed her lips slightly. She didn't have 'slutty' in her wardrobe, considering her occupation it was no surprise. The kind of dresses that would show off skin were far too formal and far too expensive for this kind of place - though perhaps a full length shimmering emerald gown with no back would get her the attention of the bartender quicker than a short black mini dress. What she actually had on was the closest to a casual get up she could find - a mid length deep blue skater type dress that had been hiding in the back of her wardrobe.
"You don't look like you're from around these parts," The gruff voice surprised her, not knowing anyone in the club and having only been here a matter of minutes she was taken aback that she'd already found herself company. Turning her head with a quirked brow she took only a second to look him over, and managed to stop herself from grinning. Well what luck would have it that she'd nudged her way in beside such a good looking local. "Is it that obvious?" She asked, glancing back to the bartender as he came their way, and then promptly went away again. Cora sighed, glancing down at her dress again. "I don't suppose you have a pair of scissors on you? Perhaps if I cut a more interesting neck line, I might be able to get myself a drink." After all, the dress had cost nothing compared to others she had.
"Is it that obvious?" She asked, glancing back to the bartender as he came their way, and then promptly went away again. Cora sighed, glancing down at her dress again. "I don't suppose you have a pair of scissors on you? Perhaps if I cut a more interesting neck line, I might be able to get myself a drink."
Grey raised a brow at that, trying to figure her out for a moment before giving up. He didn't care that much, at least, not right then and there. Her questions earned a laugh from him - a genuine laugh before he realised that she was probably being serious about cutting in a new neck line on her dress. He shook his head.
"It's obvious because no one flags down a barman like that," he snorted, "There's a thing called bar etiquette sweet heart, and what you're doing - that ain't it. And cutting a new neckline on that dress is only going to get you trouble. Sure the barman is flickering over to the bar flies on the end there, but he's working and the more drinks he pushes out, the more money is made at the bar."
It was probably more about trying to get an easy time after work for the bar man, but this lass beside him didn't look like the sort that would've come into a nightclub even if she were paid to. He chuckled, must've been some dare with a mighty reward on the end for her to come in like this. He finished his lager bottle and set it on the coaster before leaning his elbow more on the bar and held two fingers out like he always did at the bar and soon enough one of the staff came over to him, paying him more attention than her.
"Another lager please, and one of whatever for the lass beside me," he said, his tone calm as the old bottle was swept away, "Just got to know how to get their attention. And don't bother lowering yourself to the level of the flies in here. Hard to find a modest woman in here most nights, but then again, it's not the modest sort that come here."
Grey wasn't about to deny himself a chance to see what he could when he was sat at the bar drinking. It made for interesting times and laughs, especially when he was talking to Harper about the goings on during the week when he wasn't in.
She looked back over to the stranger, seeing his eyebrow raise like her own and then he laughed. It surprised her, she didn't think she'd said anything particularly funny, she would quite happily go and cut strips out of the dress if it meant she'd actually get herself served; before she dried up and died of dehydration. Okay, perhaps that was a little dramatic but she had a flare for such - or so she'd been told. He had a nice laugh though, and she couldn't help the slight upward curl of her painted lips.
"It's obvious because no one flags down a barman like that," Cora rolled her eyes at his snort - like she spent her weekends in a club. "There's a thing called bar etiquette sweet heart, and what you're doing - that ain't it. And cutting a new neckline on that dress is only going to get you trouble. Sure the barman is flickering over to the bar flies on the end there, but he's working and the more drinks he pushes out, the more money is made at the bar." Her head cocked slightly at the endearment. She'd never been called sweet heart before. "Bar etiquette?" She repeated, watching the guy flitting about, "So it's bar etiquette to serve the ladies with the most flesh on display first, and then the regulars a close second?" She retorted. She might not know the scene, but she wasn't stupid. If only he knew who was standing at the bar, he might get over to her a little quicker - particularly if it was all about money.
She frowned as the stranger finished her own drink and casually made a gesture that brought the barman over. Cora almost gave the guy a glare but she knew if she was going to be coming back here, it'd do her no good to piss the servers off. "Another lager please, and one of whatever for the lass beside me," She ordered herself a beer. She might look like a wine and fruity cocktail girl - and she was for the most part - but she liked beer, and it wasn't something she was able to drink within public eye. "Just got to know how to get their attention. And don't bother lowering yourself to the level of the flies in here. Hard to find a modest woman in here most nights, but then again, it's not the modest sort that come here." Cora half grinned, glancing again at the other women on show and then she turned slightly so she was facing the guy. "Why not lower myself? Perhaps next time I'll forget the cleavage and just flash them outright - that'll get their attention." She wouldn't... well... she might, but Lord knew that would probably get her in a whole wreath of trouble.
"Bar etiquette?" She repeated, watching the guy flitting about, "So it's bar etiquette to serve the ladies with the most flesh on display first, and then the regulars a close second?" She retorted.
He chuckled softly and shook his head, "Just because those flies have their tits all over the place doesn't mean shit - that's just them being quick picks for desperate men. The correct etiquette at the bar is to actually wait your turn and not flail about like that - barman probably thought you were waving to someone. You stepped in and have been here all of two minutes, the bar is full, we all wait our turn."
His words were quite mellow for him, but he let it go, relaxing as he took a drink.
Cora half grinned, glancing again at the other women on show and then she turned slightly so she was facing the guy. "Why not lower myself? Perhaps next time I'll forget the cleavage and just flash them outright - that'll get their attention."
Grey's eyes snapped open at the words and he barely had enough time to cover his mouth as he choked on his drink. Spluttering, he grabbed a napkin and coughed into it, wiping his chin.
"Don't tease a man when he's drinking," he laughed, "Do something like that in here, the bouncer might just toss you out or there will be cops called in. It'll certainly get someone's attention, that much I am very much aware of. Just get to know how to approach a bar and how to flex the charm, before too long it'll be as easy as breathing. And as for lowering yourself to the level of the flies - I say don't, because they are easily wound up when a nice person comes up to the bar and doesn't have to flash skin to get attention. But that's just me - you do whatever you feel you need to in the end."
She caught his chuckle and raised an eyebrow, had her comment been that funny? She'd been halfway serious, not used to having to wait to be served, she wasn't sure she liked this part of being one of the many. "Just because those flies have their tits all over the place doesn't mean shit - that's just them being quick picks for desperate men. The correct etiquette at the bar is to actually wait your turn and not flail about like that - barman probably thought you were waving to someone. You stepped in and have been here all of two minutes, the bar is full, we all wait our turn." She'd been served now regardless - thanks to the stranger. She took a swig of her beer before she replied, her brain flipping through different responses as her slightly hot temper warred with the politeness she'd had ingrained in her from a child.
"Well, I suppose sometimes pretty priveledge doesn't occur in every establishment." She rolled her eyes, not that she'd expected to get served just for being pretty - and yes, she knew she was, she wasn't completely egotistical but she didn't see the point in pretending she didn't see it. She didn't like the waiting around with the hot press of the crowd though. He might think the bartenders were going in order but she still thought they were picking and choosing, though she had a feeling her words would fall on deaf ears when it came to this local.
Her painted lips curled upwards into a victorious grin when he spluttered, her eyes alight. This was what she wanted, being in amongst normal people, making some ridiculously good looking guy laugh at how witty she was. "Don't tease a man when he's drinking," Her smile turned coy and she peered up at him, tempted to touch his chest but thinking subtle was better, and her hands remained to herself. "So I should wait until you're not?" It was her turn to sip her beer as she waited for the rest of it. He seemed to be quite opinionated, and she felt that more was coming. "Do something like that in here, the bouncer might just toss you out or there will be cops called in. It'll certainly get someone's attention, that much I am very much aware of. Just get to know how to approach a bar and how to flex the charm, before too long it'll be as easy as breathing. And as for lowering yourself to the level of the flies - I say don't, because they are easily wound up when a nice person comes up to the bar and doesn't have to flash skin to get attention. But that's just me - you do whatever you feel you need to in the end."
It sounded kind of exciting for Cora. Her parents would absolutely throttle her, and if anyone took pictures she would be in a whole realm of trouble, but the idea of doing something reckless and wild, flashing the bar, and then being kicked out - having the police involved. She loved the idea of it. So prim and proper, so stuck in her propriety anything outside the box sounded mad. Her grin turned wicked at the thought as she looked back to the guy - probably not the reaction he would expect. "I think that sounds like one hell of a night," She laughed, though alas she knew she wouldn't get away with it. "I have plenty of charm, would you like me to test it on you?" She asked, raising a well plucked eyebrow. Her curious gaze travelled past him to the heaving dance floor and her heart tugged to join in with the swell. She pursed her lips in consideration. "Do you dance, pretty boy?"
"Well, I suppose sometimes pretty privileged doesn't occur in every establishment." She rolled her eyes.
"So I should wait until you're not?" It was her turn to sip her beer as she waited for the rest of it. He seemed to be quite opinionated, and she felt that more was coming.
"It would keep me breathing," he chuckled, "And I quite like breathing, for the most part."
He could feel a light buzz kicking in, a sign he should start to slow up on the alcohol and be careful. He couldn't feel his shoulder any more, and whilst that was welcome, it was also a hazard that he would have to be mighty careful of. He didn't feel like busting the stitches and then have to deal with that. Finishing off his drink, he signaled for some water.
"I think that sounds like one hell of a night," She laughed, though alas she knew she wouldn't get away with it. "I have plenty of charm, would you like me to test it on you?" She asked, raising a well plucked eyebrow. Her curious gaze travelled past him to the heaving dance floor and her heart tugged to join in with the swell. She pursed her lips in consideration. "Do you dance, pretty boy?"
"Try away," he said, shaking his slightly.
He watched her from the corner of his eye and when she asked if he danced, he turned his head to the floor and weighed up his options.
"I've been known to," he said smirking, "Why, is that what you are after pigeon?"
"It would keep me breathing, And I quite like breathing, for the most part." She gave an easy laugh and then nodded in agreement. "I quite like you breathing too but... this does feel like a bit of a challenge." She teased, though she didn't actually want to send him to hospital choking on his drink, she did like the idea of surprising him. It would seem stupid to say it out loud, but her families reactions were generally so composed all the time, his natural reaction made her day.
She swigged her beer again, tilting her head in surprise when he ordered water. "Reached your limit?" She asked, she assumed he wasn't drunk as he seemed very with it, but perhaps he was driving. A good looking guy who was responsible? She hoped he wasn't too responsible, she'd met enough responsible men for one lifetime. "Try away," Cora grinned and made note, taking another graceful sip of her beer and giving it a small shake to feel how little there was left. "Noted," She responded with a sly smile.
Cora fully expected him to turn her down. Something about him didn't seem the type to join in the club dancing, and as he turned his head to the dance floor she felt he might be considering how to turn her down. "I've been known to," her eyebrows rose curiously. "Why, is that what you are after pigeon?" She straightened up slightly - though she wasn't one to slouch anyway. "Pigeon?" She repeated, never having heard that one before, but she grinned. "I do, and I want to dance with you." The throng looked interesting but her eyes were caught by this handsome stranger and her night wouldn't be made without a dance with him.
She gave an easy laugh and then nodded in agreement. "I quite like you breathing too but... this does feel like a bit of a challenge."
"My mother always said I was a challenging child," he snickered.
"Reached your limit?" She asked.
"Not even close," he said with a grin, "I'm just drunk enough that my shoulder isn't throbbing where I had to get stitches today."
"Noted," She responded with a sly smile.
"Pigeon?" She repeated, never having heard that one before, but she grinned. "I do, and I want to dance with you."
"It's a nickname," he laughed, "But I'll gladly dance with you."
He got up after downing the water, and gently grabbed her hand before pulling her towards the dance floor. He didn't grab at all that hard, she could've tugged away from him at any point if she wished to.
"My mother always said I was a challenging child," Cora grinned and tilted her head, making a show of looking him over, "I do like a challenge," which was nothing if not the truth. She loved a good dare too, she found it hard to turn things like that down, much to the often dismay of her family. "Not even close, I'm just drunk enough that my shoulder isn't throbbing where I had to get stitches today." Her eyebrows rose a little in surprise and she swallowed the mouthful of beer she had just taken, glancing to both of his broad shoulders. "What happened?" She asked, she'd never had any injury that needed stitches, she was rarely allowed to break a nail let alone anything else.
"It's a nickname," She half smiled, finding the name curious but at least it was unoffensive. "But I'll gladly dance with you." Her answering grin was wicked, having been curious as to whether he would accept her offer or not. "Good, let's see your moves." She murmured, curling her fingers around his and welcoming the warm touch of his hand - she threw back the rest of her beer and left the empty bottle on the side, letting the guy tug her onto the dance floor with the rest of the crowd. "What's your name, pretty boy?" She asked as they joined the swayed swell, realising she had no idea what to call the handsome stranger. Though it made it all the more thrilling.
Cora grinned and tilted her head, making a show of looking him over, "I do like a challenge," which was nothing if not the truth.
"What happened?" She asked, she'd never had any injury that needed stitches, she was rarely allowed to break a nail let alone anything else.
"Just a horse bite, nothing too unusual in my line of work," he smiled, "Though I don't make a habit of trying to be bit. Mare with a painfully thrown shoe."
"Good, let's see your moves."
He glided out with her onto the floor and moved in sway with the music, doing his best to dance whilst keeping his bad shoulder still to avoid busting the stitches. He did decently, in his mind.
"What's your name, pretty boy?" She asked as they joined the swayed swell, realising she had no idea what to call the handsome stranger.
"Grey. Grey Vaughn. And what name do I get to call you?" he asked over the music.
"Just a horse bite, nothing too unusual in my line of work, Though I don't make a habit of trying to be bit. Mare with a painfully thrown shoe." Her eyebrows quirked slightly, "A horse bite required stitches?" Cora gave a slight shake of her head in surprise, "That must've hurt," she added, glancing to his hidden shoulder. "Surely if it's outside the bedroom, it's just not worth the pain," Her lips curved into a grin, unable to help herself. Not that she could say she'd been able to sneak all that many people past the iron gate of her parents. It had been easier as she'd gotten older and taken to fixing her own agenda - somewhat.
Her steps were light as she glided after her. Cora had been taught all manner of dance growing up, though none of the types had been remotely related to club dancing or social dancing in this way. Her spine tried to straighten, automatically going to lessons taught over the years; muscle memory. But she knew how to dance like this, though she rarely got to do it, and she stayed loose and free, relaxing in the stranger's arms as she swayed with him to the music.
"Grey. Grey Vaughn. And what name do I get to call you?" She tilted her head to catch his words and grinned in response. "Grey? That's an interesting name," She spoke above the music, fitting the name to the handsome face. "Cora," she said in response. He didn't seem like the type to know royalty, though she could be being unfair, but she felt it best to avoid her surname in that moment. Nobody here would care if they heard it, she wasn't famous per-say, though she'd been in plenty of tabloids, and not many would recognise her face. He didn't need to know more, she was happy for them just to be 'Cora and Grey' as they danced.
Her eyebrows quirked slightly, "A horse bite required stitches?" Cora gave a slight shake of her head in surprise, "That must've hurt," she added, glancing to his hidden shoulder. "Surely if it's outside the bedroom, it's just not worth the pain," Her lips curved into a grin.
"Yeah, not the first time," he smiled, only to laugh, "Really depends on the sort of pain you're into."
"Grey? That's an interesting name," She spoke above the music, fitting the name to the handsome face. "Cora," she said in response.
"Mother was old fashioned," he said loudly, "Nice to meet you Cora."
He didn't stop moving, the alcohol helping to keep the pain at bay. For tonight, he was content to dance with a pretty face. He was used to dancing like this, writhing with the other bodies on the floor, being bumped about as someone else invaded his space.
"Yeah, not the first time," She winced at the idea of it, she'd never been bitten by a horse before. Hers had always been impeccably well behaved to handle, her parents wouldn't have it any other way even though Cora liked a bit of fire. But to need stitches was something else entirely. "Do you get danger pay?" She joked, knowing he was unlikely to get much. "Really depends on the sort of pain you're into." Cora gave an unlady-like snort, and her answering grin was wicked. God her parents would fliiiip if they knew she was discussing bedroom habits with a stranger. "Well who doesn't like a little bit of teeth?" She teased; nothing worth stitches, she wasn't a goddamn masochist.
"Mother was old fashioned," She hadn't realised it was an old fashioned name, a lot of her childhood friends and relatives had old fashioned names - it was the penance for being part of the royal family. "In that case, you could have had worse." Would he have been as attractive if he'd had some awful old school name like Clarence or Herman. Probably. "Nice to meet you Cora." She grinned in delight, knowing it was probably a compliment he gave out frequently but happy to take it. "Likewise," She agreed, he'd turned her night right around and she moved in sync with him, temporarily letting the music take her and closing her eyes to let the beat fill her body, the song taking over the movements of her arms and her hips as her lips spread again into another easy grin. "God, I've missed this." She admitted, more to herself than to Grey. She loved it, the sensations of everyone pressed around her, the touch of a stranger pulling her close, letting herself go with no worries and no responsibilities. Until daybreak broke and she would have to go back.
