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!.
The sun was warm against his face as he walked along the worn paths made by thousands of other feet, sunglasses blocking out the harsh glare of the sun. The sand and gravel crunched under his boots, the wind still as he reached the top of the hill and scanned the surroundings slowly. Behind him, laughter. He smiled and looked back at his friends who were all laughing and talking, carrying their arms in such a way they were ready if needed, but were not taxing on them. Men who knew what they were doing, who had seen much and had advice to offer him.
He recalled when they'd been assigned to him, the tension set between them as some young gun was appointed as their officer and not someone higher in the ranks. It was grudging, unwilling, questioning... Shaking his head, he waved them up and over as he began to descend on the other side of the hill. Why was he recalling when they first met? That was years ago now, now they were family - a unit stronger and more well put together in his mind than some of the other teams. But who was he to judge men and women he didn't know? He was no one.
He looked down at Maddox, the shepherd in his tactical gear looking every bit the part, smiling as he walked beside him. Things were fine, another few months of this and he'd go home for a short break and then return to his job with renewed energy. Everything would work out. He stopped, the laughter gone leaving the air feeling heavier somehow. He turned back, jogging back over the hill. His men were down, sprawled out on the ground. He rushed to them, slinging his weapon over his shoulder as he dove onto his knees, calling their names as he removed their helmets. They were faceless, a single hole in each of their heads. It was jarring, he turned away from them retching into the dirt. Looking back, Maddox's leash was gone from his wrist, just a skeleton with tags the only indication.
Call for Backup...
Grabbing his radio, he called in for assistance, but there only static on the other end. Dead. Nothing. He had to get back to base, get an evac out for the fallen. He turned and started running - the next post was near one of the smaller villages, help would be there. He ran, stumbling slightly on the loose ground - not too far now... The world shifted under his feet, gravity seemed meaninglessly dizzy, then blossoming white pain and comforting darkness...
There was nothing for what seemed like forever before the pain came back in thick choking waves. Voices, unclear but voices. His own? He opened his eyes, but nothing - he reached out to try clear them, stopped by something. He yanked at his hands, feeling the thick shackles on his wrists, the dull rattle of chains? Not sure. The voices tapered off, closer... He tried to speak but his tongue felt thick in his mouth. More words, garbled - water? Someone held his hair, yanking his head back, barking questions he had no answers to, a sudden surge of cold water over his face. He tried to turn away from it, couldn't, tried to breath; coughing, a stabbing pain in his ribs and a pounding in his head.
___
Joe curled into himself, clutching his body, trying to shield himself from phantom attacks of pain, reliving what had happened to him. He was completely disorientated and disconnected from the world, no longer in his family home. All he knew was that he was in pain again and he was afraid of that as his body gave knee jerk reactions. His body was prickling, like nails being dragged underneath the surface where he couldn't reach them to stop it. His lungs felt like someone was standing on his chest, forcing more air out than he could get in a single breath.
You are weak. Pathetic. Useless.
It was like someone was twisting a knife in his shoulder again, turning it slowly, grinding on the bone. He didn't understand it, why now of all times? Why now?
Holly had had a long day, and was looking forward to sticking a podcast on in her ears and having a drink - a long drink. Avery had taken Levi and Rocke out for the day as she had been working and unable to look after them. She'd recently taken on extra patients, it was nice as she'd been recommended by a couple of her current patients, and it was wonderful that they loved her work enough to talk about her to other people that needed help. She was already quite full, but she didn't like turning people away or saying no - she had agreed to squeeze them in where-ever she could. So today her card had been very full on, but all of them had made progress and she was exhausted by pleased. Somehow she had found herself with a host of patients that had come from the army - one of her newer patients, Andrew, had sent one of his friends her way after discharge, and along with Avery and Luc she'd met quite a host of army lads.
She liked it, they were tough patients and often irritable and hard to handle, but very rewarding and having the patience of a saint she was well versed in dealing with their angry outbursts and irritability. Holly yawned and unlocked the front door, pausing as she slipped off her trainers to take in the silence of the house. Peaceful. A small smile tilted her lips at the corners as she headed through to the kitchen for a glass of water. She made a point of drinking throughout the day - if she got dehydrated she would find herself finishing the day with a headache, no doubt. It took her a moment to grab the right glass, fill with with the right amount of ice cubes, counting the seconds as she filled the glass - whilst her OCD had become much more manageable over the years she still had her strange habits that she knew others found odd, but it was better than how she used to be; OCD wasn't all about cleaning though hers had been her biggest obsession, it was also counting for her - habits that were made to numbers that she had to get right, and if it was wrong or she mis-counted she had to start again.
It was then that she glanced out to the garden, leaning against the sink contemplating her evening, and saw Joe. She hadn't interacted with him much since he'd come home, knowing that things were not okay with him and not wanting to become another person to upset him she'd kept her distance and spent a lot of her time making sure the kids didn't upset him or hassle him too much. Rocke was young but Levi was walking and talking now and a very curious lad. He wanted to play with his new uncle. She wanted to connect with Joe, but she didn't want to overwhelm him. Still, the longer she looked out at him, the more she had the distinct feeling something was off. She had been with Avery for years, been there for every nightmare - including the time he'd tried to kill her. She knew what they looked like. Setting down her water, she headed out to the garden, letting the door shut loudly enough behind her so that it wouldn't surprise him. "Joe?" She called as she wandered barefoot across the grass, concern growing as she approached; she knew how bad it was to startle him but something felt off. "Joe, are you okay?"
There was no answer as his body twitched erratically on the grass, knuckles white as he clutched at his tank top, jaw clenched shut.
___
The questions came at him from every angle, thick and fast - too many. He could barely understand it, his ears still ringing. He had no answers for them, so he spat and growled at them - "Baisez-vous!"
The hit came out of nowhere across his jaw, a boot in the gut sending every precious piece of oxygen out of his lungs. He held onto that defiance, he had to. He wasn't going to roll over for them.
Time seemed to speed up, another bout of drowning, being dragged down without any sight of an end. Then the shackles were gone, his hand held under the strength of someone unknown, more questions. There was weight on his pinkie finger, a threat, then sharp pain. He tried to muffle his scream but it it still echoed. More pain, more questions, more water.
He lost track of the time, it seemed like so long already, they had his hand again. It was burning hot, throbbing - infection? He wasn't sure. Couldn't see. Sobbing. He wanted to go home!
"Où es-tu Dustin?!"
His throat was tight again, begging, pleading. Threats, he believed them. "Finissez-en déjà! je n'en peux plus!"
___
He didn't know up or down, what difference it mad to anyone or anything. His body twitched more violently, muscles involuntarily jerking and strain in his hands and arms. He was crying, his face growing bright red, heart racing in his chest in time with the pounding inside his skull.
Translation [In Order of Appearance]: - Get fucked! - Where are you Dustin?!
She frowned as Joe didn't stir, instead he continued to move erratically on the grass, and she took her lower lip between her teeth, hesitating. It was not a good idea to get close and wake him up, she knew what happened in situations like that, she'd been there before. He was having a night terror, and if she grabbed him or shook him, he was liable to lash out. She wasn't stupid enough to just got for it... but she couldn't leave him like he was, he was going to end up hurting himself if he hadn't done so already. "Baisez-vous!" She frowned slightly, trying to dredge up her French and match to a translation. She hadn't known anything but school girl French before she'd met Avery, clunky at best, but when she was dating him she'd made an effort, she'd asked him to help her and she'd thrown herself into it. She had wanted their kids to grow up with both languages, which helped if their mother could at least do conversational French.
Her lessons had stilted a little bit as the years had gone on, but she knew enough - not enough to be fluent in the Mccarran's rapid conversations but she got by. "Où es-tu Dustin?!" She didn't need a translator to understand, that one she knew, and it really hit her in the feels. "Oh Joe," She murmured, risking it by going to kneel next to him, her hands hovering to help him. "Where are you..." She was glad the others weren't here to see this, to hear this. If Dustin heard him calling like that, it would have killed him. Whatever he was relieving was real, it had happened, and it was horrifying. "Finissez-en déjà! je n'en peux plus!" The tears were what made her do it in the end. She couldn't stand it - it wasn't enough to just be there for him, it wasn't helping him; he had no idea she was there.
Holly reached out, her fingers were light, gentle as she went to touch his chest. She figured that if she went to grab his arm it would feel most like an attack, and if she was too firm on the pressure it would feel like a threat. If he was to the surface enough as she knew most were from the army when they slept, she hoped the soft pressure would be enough to pull him. "Joe? Joe it's Holly. Wake up, you're not there, you're home.. and you're safe." She called loudly, trying to accompany the touch with a loud enough voice to wake him that wouldn't sound like shouting; and therefore not another threat. Her words in French were less smooth and sure but she tried them anyway, "réveillez-vous, Joe, vous êtes à la maison et vous êtes en sécurité"
(Translation - Wake up Joe, You're home and you are safe)
"Joe? Joe it's Holly. Wake up, you're not there, you're home.. and you're safe." She called loudly, trying to accompany the touch with a loud enough voice to wake him that wouldn't sound like shouting; and therefore not another threat.
He could hear an unfamiliar voice somewhere over the din of his screaming, unsure of if this was friend or foe. There were hands on him, he could feel it - were they going to hurt him more? He wasn't sure what was coming next. Air. He needed air.
"réveillez-vous, Joe, vous êtes à la maison et vous êtes en sécurité"
Something snapped back into place where it needed to be, his body responding to his demands once again. He immediately gasped for air, inhaling heavily as his body shook. He registered the presence of something, someone and immediately pushed away, scrambling backwards on the grass. His mind was reeling, eyes unclear as he began to come back to reality, doing the same automatic checks he knew. It took several long minutes, chest heaving as if he'd run a marathon, scrubbing at his face to try stem the tears that were still running down his cheeks. He sat and put his head between his knees, head thumping in time with the rushing in his ears. There were no words, he couldn't find them. His sharpness had decided to abandon him.
He seemed to stir at her words and she frowned, trying to read where he might be in his dream, how deep he might be under and how much she could push it. She was glad for her experiences with Avery, at least she knew some way of control and how to reach people when they were stuck. It didn't always work, and she had spent many sleepless nights trying to calm her fiance as he thrashed and shouted, distraught that nothing she did could raise him from the terror and the pain and the fear that he was experiencing. All she could do was be there and keep talking until he managed to pull himself from it. Those were worse than the one's where he lashed out at her, because at least when he lashed out it thrust him awake, and then he wasn't in that hell anymore. It was a guess that the French would help - the family were so evolved around it that even Holly's rusty tongue might be more of a pull than English. Maybe because it would remind him of home? A safe place?
Gasping. Suddenly he was gasping, and her stomach dropped to imagine what he might have been dreaming of that his body felt the need to respond in such a way - drowning? Suffocating? It didn't bear thinking about. This was the tricky part though, how to comfort. Sometimes, Av didn't want to be touched - not right away. It took him time to come back into himself, still shuddering off the residue of the nightmare. Other times she was able to pull him straight into her arms and hug him tight. The pressure helping. This was Joe though, and she was practically a stranger to him. She had no idea if he'd distinguish her hugging him as a friend attempting to help or foe attempting to attack, especially if the mist and fog of his dreams remained.
She searched his gaze, looking for a show of recognition. "Joe?" She asked, trying to ascertain if he was there or not. Then he was pushing away, and she let him go, staying put where she knelt on the grass, her expression wary but calm, assessing. Was she safe? Was he present? The tears running his cheeks made her heart bleed, but she didn't reach that wanting arm out to him - not yet. She didn't bother to tell him 'it's Holly', by the way that he put his head between his knees she knew he was back, and she searched for the right words that wouldn't make things worse. "That was quite an ordeal that you went through..." She spoke carefully, aware of the time bomb she was talking to. "Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me to change the subject? One of my patients set the whole waiting room alight with laughter today," She said it breezily, as if it was every day this kind of thing happened; completely normal.
"Joe?" She asked, trying to ascertain if he was there or not.
He heard her, it was clearer now, but that didn't stop the sense of dread that filled his gut. It was heavy like lead and bitter like acid. He was light headed, still drawing in large lungfuls of air, trying to smooth it out.
"That was quite an ordeal that you went through..." She spoke carefully, aware of the time bomb she was talking to. "Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want me to change the subject? One of my patients set the whole waiting room alight with laughter today," She said it breezily.
"How would you know?" he barked back weakly, his usual fire seriously lacking, "You know nothing."
He closed his eyes, squeezed them tightly, before reaching out to the side as the world tipped dangerously to one side. His skull was pounding. He shook his head before carefully trying to turn onto his side and forced himself to get up off the ground. He staggered dangerously, swaying unsteadily on his feet. He felt absolutely rotten. He couldn't orientate himself, which was frightening in itself - it was like his leg was gone again, and instinctively he reached for his leg and reassured himself that the prosthetic was still attached. He just needed a moment to hope and pray that the world would stabilize shortly.
She saw the change in his expression, the flare of recognition when she spoke - so he was with her now, that was something. She relaxed a little, no need to worry he was about to lash out at her now he was awake and aware, and he knew who she was - friend not foe, or she liked to think she was in his eyes. She honestly had no idea what he thought of her, or most of them - he was a tough one to read, but most of her thought that he just wanted to fit in really, and was maybe struggling to know how. "How would you know?" It took her a minute to realise what he was questioning, the tone didn't bother her, she had been barked at plenty over the years. "You know nothing."
Holly thought on that for a moment, not reacting in either way - not jumping to look after him but no temper rising in her either. "I don't know much, that's true - about what happened to you, anyway," She gave him a quick smile, even if he didn't want it. "I know plenty about other things. Physiotherapy for instance," She said pointedly. "But you were talking in your sleep, some French but even my French is good enough to pick up what you were saying." Her voice softened, not wanting to push. She watched him stagger as he stood. "What's the rush? I'm not here to chase you off, I just wanted to check you were alright out here with the yelling."
"I don't know much, that's true - about what happened to you, anyway," She gave him a quick smile, even if he didn't want it. "I know plenty about other things. Physiotherapy for instance," She said pointedly. "But you were talking in your sleep, some French but even my French is good enough to pick up what you were saying." Her voice softened, not wanting to push. "What's the rush? I'm not here to chase you off, I just wanted to check you were alright out here with the yelling."
His ears burnt hearing her explanation; so he was yelling in his sleep? He made a mental note to try find some way to stop it from happening again, even if that meant sleeping outside permanently at night. He blinked slowly, trying to just count to ten and get his mind back together.
"In future, ignore it," he replied harshly, "Best that way."
You are a bastard. You deserve to get your face punched in Joe.
His hands shook as he tried to stamp that intrusive voice into the dirt.
"Can't stay on the ground," he muttered, "I don't like it, can't stand it, I have my issues with being on the ground. I'm not exactly rushing - you'd know that if I was. I'm just.. trying to orientate."
She didn't rush him for a response, having seen first hand how long it could take for people to come out of their dreams. The thing was, these were not just random thoughts or ideas of the subconscious, not an odd mingling of random and fantasy or hope - they were not just dreams. They were memories, traumatic memories, rife and thick with strong feelings and emotions. They were all mingled together, the emotions and memories, made things feel real, like they were reliving it again. It also made it hard to resurface from them, to get their bearings. She didn't have them, shed never been to war, but she understood it from what she saw of Avery.
"In future, ignore it, Best that way." Holly gave a wistful smile at that, "if I could, I would, but it's not in my nature to ignore cries for help." She admitted. Unfortunately with her job, she was used to being shouted at and insulted - it never got too far, and she was good at being firm and not allowing them to overstep the mark too much with the frustration - but harsh tones and words were not one to put her off. She had always had a penchant for helping people and now that she could in some respect, she did. "Can't stay on the ground, I don't like it, can't stand it, I have my issues with being on the ground. I'm not exactly rushing - you'd know that if I was. I'm just.. trying to orientate."
Holly nodded at his explanation, "Well that's fair enough," She agreed, nobody liked being on the ground really - she knew it made a lot of people feel weak. Besides, it wasn't particularly comfortable. "Do you want a hand up? I'm stronger than I look." Considering she spent her working days manipulating muscles and such that didn't want to work properly, she had a good grip and was pretty strong. She offered out a hand as she stood, there if he needed, but there was no offense taken if he decided against.
"Do you want a hand up? I'm stronger than I look."
Joe regarded her with hard, cold eyes for several moments before he grunted and shook his head.
"No, I don't," he growled, "Don't need help, never wanted help, didn't need it. I rely on myself, no point in dragging someone else down too."
He began the awkward process of getting off the ground and upright. With nothing to really brace on, he had to rely on his own strength and balance, something he wasn't keen on. But he managed it after a few attempts, somehow getting onto his legs, albeit awkwardly.
She responded to his hard look with a relaxed one of her own. Two could play at that game, she'd seen that look in many a patient's eyes before, she was nonplussed about it; it did nothing to upset or frustrate her. When she'd first started physio, she'd had to learn to develop a thick skin pretty fast, to not take their problems on as her own, to not feel that their words or actions were personal. Joe was not her patient - right now anyway - but she could still use what she knew and the skills she'd developed in life. She'd used them many times before and it had helped her plenty from not taking things personally where other people would go home and cry.
"No, I don't, Don't need help, never wanted help, didn't need it. I rely on myself, no point in dragging someone else down too." Holly gave a slight smile and a shrug, "Alright then," She said simply, not rising to his frustration but just dropping her hand instead and letting him get himself up. It was tough sometimes to watch people struggle, and this was where a lot of people would get flustered and try to help anyway. Holly did not. It often got her patients pissed; pissed enough to actually try harder- because she just stood there and watched them struggle and do it themselves without a care in the world for it. He made it too, but she didn't step back as he towered about her, she was not threatened by him. He was just a kid that needed help.
"You saw nothing. You know nothing about this." Holly paused for a moment, wondering what part he wanted to try and hide, but it was his choice and she was good at confidential. She gave a small nod. "I'll tell nobody, but I won't forget what I saw." She knew this was likely not going to be received well but she gave Joe a strong look. "I'm a physio Joe, it's what I do, and I've spent a lot of time with other officers - if you want help, proper sessions, let me know. It'll be private, we don't have to tell the others if you'd rather not. But if you want extra help figuring shit out, let me know."
He nodded at that, and was content to leave it there, but Holly went on and all he could do was narrow his eyes and grind his teeth a little bit.
She gave a small nod. "I'll tell nobody, but I won't forget what I saw. I'm a physio Joe, it's what I do, and I've spent a lot of time with other officers - if you want help, proper sessions, let me know. It'll be private, we don't have to tell the others if you'd rather not. But if you want extra help figuring shit out, let me know."
"Right, well - if that ever needs to be the case you'll be the first to know I am sure," he snipped sarcastically, "We're done here."
With that, he turned and started for the door to head inside, having to take a moment to gather himself for the single step he had to face, before disappearing inside.
