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 was funny how life worked. He politely flirted with a girl at R&R, only to find out that she didn't swing his way, however since he had been 'such a gentleman', she became his wing woman for the evening. Part of his flirt, although thinking back on it Stephen didn't get why he thought this would be a pick up line, had been that he was planning on being a top rate investigative journalist when he graduated college. The girl, whose name was Gwyn Knight, did not laugh in his face, but informed her that she could set him up with a potential mentor, or at least have a 'meet & greet'. And, for some reason, he went on a whim and agreed. Of course, she didn't want him showing up at the house for this, he guessed stranger danger, and that was how he found himself sitting at the pond, staring at some ducks.
The young man supposed it was neutral ground, if this went terribly wrong, Gwyn didn't want him knowing where she and her uncle lived. Or maybe it was just his appearance and he couldn't be seen in her neighborhood. Anything was possible. Despite the fact that he had hit on her because she had been cute, Gwyn had come off as high maintenance to a degree. Her aggressive text about making sure to bring french press coffee - not Starbucks - certainly drove that home. Stephen thought about her uncle, curious about this meeting. A retired BBC photographic journalist who had lost his eye sight in Syria. He could only imagine the stories this guy must have about working, considering that he had been in Syria, Gwyn's uncle didn't shy away from a war zone or any tough material. While Stephen wasn't sure if he was war zone material, he knew he wanted to make a difference and go after things and pull strings that people were maybe too afraid of.
Green eyes glanced at his watch for a second, looks like they should be here any minute. And naturally, no sooner than he thought that did he hear the crunching of feet, "Stephen! There you are and thank you for the coffee." Looking up, he saw Gwyn there, nearly towering over him in her 5'10 glory along with a gentleman in his late thirties or early forties by Stephen's guess, wearing red tinted sunglasses. He got up quickly, "Gwyn. Mr. Knight. Thanks for coming out to talk to me. I am really excited to talk about your time with BBC. Uh, do you need any-" but Gwyn was already waving him off, leaving him holding the coffee. So he waited patiently, watching Gwyn and Orion, and in the back of his head, Stephen found himself panicking if he was going to have an hour long talk with a man who may or may not know that he had blatantly attempted to flirt with his niece in order to get to a next base.
“It's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.”
T
ruly, what did Gwyn have planned for him at 10 am? She had mentioned a meeting with someone, someone who wanted to get into the business per se. Her tone of voice meant his previous business and not his current business. Well, he had agreed. He didn’t know what he agreed to exactly, but Orion wasn’t one to not talk about his previous life work. Journalism wasn’t for everyone, especially the nitty gritty stuff. There were times Orion was happy he lost his vision. There weren’t images of dead bodies burned into his retinas.
Orion let Gwyn guide him through the park. He followed her footsteps and voice, using his cane to find any rocks or whatever tumbled into the path. His ears perked up when Gwyn’s voice got louder. It meant that the person he would be meeting was nearby. A male voice came to him. Younger, but not too young. He was cut off and Orion would respond to him when he was closer.
A hand found the back of the bench and he sat down. His face turned towards Stephen, looking at him as if he could see him. Maybe it was the muscle memory of meeting people in a professional manner. Though, he understood it could make some people a bit uncomfortable. Orion looked like he was staring into someone’s soul. But he was just listening intently.
“Stephen Breckah? Nice to meet you. Please, call me Orion.” He held out a hand, curious to see if the young man had a professional handshake or not.
All things considered, the way Orion Knight dressed and held himself, if it weren't for the seeing cane, Stephen wouldn't have thought him blind at first glance. Green eyes watched the older man for a moment as he found his seat on the bench now, hardly needing the help of his niece's. Once he was settled, Stephen followed suit and sat back down next to him. He couldn't help but to wonder if Gwyn would linger here the full time they talked or if she would go off to do her onw thing. Not that he minded, of course, he just still felt a little haunted by their initial interaction, which was stupid, seeing as she had bounced back by it already. Plus, it would feel a little weird to have her possibly listening in. But he knew how much she cared for Orion, so he wasn't going to complain.
Speaking of Orion, the young man was surprised to see him shift towards him now and stare at him dead on and it only reminded Stephen of his previous thought. The man still moved like he could see. "Stephen Breckah? Nice to meet you. Please, call me Orion,” and then, there was a hand in front of him. Green eyes stared at the hand for a moment before flickering to Gwyn, who just smiled at him enthusiastically. He couldn't help but to wonder if she was doing this both for him and Orion, not that he needed some mentee, but maybe he needed more people to talk to than just Gwyn and clients. Recovering himself from his thoughts, he freed one hand from the tray of coffee to shake his hand. He went for light but firm, no need to attempt to crush a hand to show some sort of business dominance, "Believe me, Sir, the pleasure is all mine. I couldn't believe it when Gwyn told me she was related to you." It took some putting together on his own, merely because of the name changes, but clearly it was him.
It seemed as if the handshake had been what Gwyn had been waiting for, "I am going to give you two some privacy, so I am not hovering, but I am just going to be at the bench across the way, so please signal if you need anything." And just like that, she gracefully bent down to place a kiss on her uncle's cheek before waltzing off. Stephen couldn't help but to let his gaze drift for a moment, following her before returning his attention to Orion now. He was in the company of a journalist god, he should be giving Orion Knight his full attention, "I brought you french press coffee, Gwyn made that aggressively clear to me, as a thank you for meeting me. My sources told me that this is some of Hickstead's finest," he commented now, handing out the cup now and gently pressing it into Orion's hand. Hoping he did that right and to distract himself from worrying, Stephen forged ahead, "Uh, thank you for meeting me, Orion. I am not sure what Gwyn told you, but I am a journalism student...or was I guess. I am hoping to continue my studies at Hickstead University after cutting my degree short at Oxford due to family obligations. I would love to get your insight on field journalism."
Stephen almost felt winded, he wasn't used to talking this much. But Orion deserved respect and a lot more than his usual faire of conversation skills. He could only hope that his rambling hadn't already scared the man off.
“It's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.”
O
rion lifted his eyebrows, but his smile was calm. He could hear the different breaths coming from the young man. It was evident he was nervous, from the changes in tone. Orion didn’t blame him, though. He knew all too well the feeling of meeting someone important like this. The older gentleman smiled again, knowing that his niece told Stephen how to butter him up. “Is that so, I guess I’ll be the judge, huh?” he teased, trying to make the situation not as tense - as he held out his hand to receive the warm beverage.
Despite what had happened to him, Orion still loved talking about his previous field. Sure, there was the pain from it – but it was a hard lesson learned now. But there were risks with everything now, it didn’t matter. “Oxford, you say? Quite the accomplishment, so congratulations on that front. But real life does come first sometimes, chosen or forced. May I ask why you chose journalism in the first place?”
He must have just been blabbering on without realizing it, because it didn't take long before Stephen noticed how the older man's eyebrow arched just a bit. Thankfully, he also seemed to have a calm, gentle smile resting on his face as well. The expressions almost played against each other, “Is that so, I guess I’ll be the judge, huh?” As Orion held his hand out, Stephen carefully pressed the insulated metal coffee mug into his hand now, "Well, if Gwyn shanks me when I leave, I'll know I'll have messed up." The young man said jokingly now, although, he wouldn't put it past the blonde girl to know how to pull off a murder hit and get away with it.
Despite the offhanded joke, Stephen felt himself finally starting to relax in the older man's presence. Maybe that was just how Orion Knight was, he beamed off some sort of cosmic energy that had the powers to chill people the fuck out. Or maybe, it was just that smile, but either way, Stephen could feel his racing heartbeat finally start to slow down despite the fact that he was in the presence of a legend. He eagerly listened to Orion talk, even though he was essentially summarizing some of Stephen's garbled words now, "Why I chose journalism?" Funny, not even his brothers or parents had ever asked him that. The young man leaned back now, mulling it over, "I have an inquisitive mind. I want to get to the answer of things. Childishly, I think it had to do with some of my obsession with Hardy Boys when I was younger - despite them being American." Green eyes looked back over, staring at him curiously, "Did you know why you wanted to do it when you first went off to school?"
“It's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.”
I
’m pretty she would only shank you if she was in scrubs. I don’t think she would ruin her wardrobe over a mistake,” he replied. Honestly, he doubts she would shank anyone. Maybe if he was in trouble – she would, that herd protection mentality. But this was a conversation that would easily derail, so Orion pressed forward.
Orion nodded again, intrigued by the tone change. Almost like a surprise. “Fact searching is always a great trait, but sometimes the facts and the truth can lead to very dangerous outcomes. It’s the ability to learn what is worth finding out. Has no one ever asked you why? Why you chose this path?”
“It was more of a secret obsession for me,” he smiled. “My parents didn’t like me watching and listening to the news or being interested in it. Newspapers were hidden from the children, so as not to scare us. But they forgot that libraries were a thing. We didn’t have the internet then when I was growing up – but if you found the right library and librarian, I figured out what was happening in the world. I managed to keep it from my parents until I was in college. They didn’t like it, wondering what they did wrong. So maybe it’s an act of rebellion as well. I think the main thing was the emotion I was able to capture in both words and writing. There’s a way to photograph and write emotions and scenes that make other people feel. Kind of like those ads for cancer charities for children, or homeless animals. Being able to provoke emotions, bad or good – felt like a weird superpower.”
Stephen wasn't so sure about the man's insights of Gwyn not shanking him, but who was he to correct a man about his niece and someone he lived with? Not him, that's who. Orion didn't seem too keen on the topic either, not that the young man could blame him, so he hardly faulted him for really launching into the meat of what this get together was about. It was curious to hear him saying the truth could lead to dangers outcomes, "Do you regret, sometimes, hunting down the truth?" It ward hard to ignore the reality given Orion was sitting in front of him without his eyesight, but what was journalism if not that? Sacrifice for the greater good? There was a curious question to Stephen though that Orion had posed, "Asked me? I mean, I guess Oxford did in their own way. But my family? No."
As Orion launched into his own tale, it shed a lot of light on the journalist that he was certain that not even Wikipedia had down. It was a little shocking to hear it all, "Damn, and I thought I had a chaotic childhood." He muttered, taking it all in, "But what you're saying makes sense. Provoking emotions, making a difference in people, or at least exposing them to something harsh." Stephen thought it might be different for him, he felt like he didn't want to provoke emotions, perhaps not on purpose, he just thought that maybe people needed to know what was going on behind closed doors. The ugly stuff that people sort of swept under the rug when really it needed to be exposed, "Do you think that's always been your drive or has it changed since graduating university and going out into the real world? Like...has your skills and wants evolved with time? Or just like...harden you?"
“It's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.”
I
wouldn’t say regret, but it alters how you view things. Alters how you take in information, and how you think. Sometimes finding the truth made me realize how corrupt even the most innocent-looking things can be. Especially a story I did about a church, where there was a seemingly high amount of abuse happening there. No one would believe the church community could do that, right? Christians could never hurt their own, as God is watching. But that wasn’t the case. The fear of God was used in a way, there was so much trauma. I was told by the current company not to release the story, but I did it. Cost me my job, but sometimes you must make that decision. What secrets are you willing to hide? And the secrets you want to release…what are you willing to sacrifice?” The religious trauma Orion faced growing up, was what probably drove him to release this information. The church ended up being shunned and shut down. A charity ended up taking over the building, making it into a music hall.
“Yeah, sometimes families let you down like that. But in the end, it’s always up to you to decide why. Sometimes that reason changes, and that’s okay, too.” It was a part of growth, really. He learned that in both easy and hard ways. When he lost his sight, he wondered if there was anything he could do to continue his stories.
“University gave you an inkling, and there are times you can go in. A few riots happened and students that were part of the university paper could go in if they had the right credentials. It was sheltered, sure, but only to the amount you wanted it to be. In the real world, it’s the same. It just depends on how safe you want to play it. What kind of journalism are you interested in, per se? Finance? War? Drug Addiction?”
It was interesting to hear the effect of the work and the life of being a journalist from Orion Knight. He practically sounded somber to Stephen as he discussed one of his news articles, one that young man knew, that dealt with a church and abuse. The revelation that the older man had lost his job over it caught him by surprised, and Stephen cocked his head just slightly, "You lost your job even though you exposed the truth?" It was an odd thought to him, he thought exposing the truth was always good in ugly matters, but it would seem that not everyone thought that, not even in the news industry, "There's no way you regret that sacrifice though, right? Working for people who want to hide something just...wouldn't be right."
Perhaps Stephen shouldn't talk though. He was a kid at age twenty still, who hardly knew anything beyond the walls of Oxford and Hickstead University. What did he know of dealing with the real world? But he hoped to learn, and he hoped to make it a better place. Blue eyes glanced off, mulling over the weight of the older man's words about family and change, "I guess it just makes you stronger in the end." Or wiser. Or perhaps, just a little taller.
The idea of playing it safe almost made him make a face, but he managed to hold it back. Not that it mattered, Orion couldn't see him, but Stephen still felt like the man could see him somehow. As for what he wanted to cover, Stephen could not help but to shrug, "I don't know. I just...I just know I want to uncover the truth. Like the whole Harvey Weinstein. Or the Opioid issue. I just...I want to take a string, and pull it, and unravel it." Maybe it was dumb. Maybe it would get him killed. After all, there was a reason why curiosity killed the cat, "And I'm not sure if there's a specialty in that."
“It's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.”
J
ournalism is and will never be easy. Sometimes, the best thing to do is just to do it for yourself. Self-publish and all that. You don't have to be shackled to a place where image matters. But you also lack that steady paycheck. But you have time to figure that out. Maybe start writing stuff for yourself? Things you observe. Like a private journal. Test out how you want to present yourself.” Orion didn’t know if he was spewing too much out, or not. He hadn’t expected someone interested in his journalism side, his so-called former side. But Orion wasn’t about to gatekeep either. Even if the information he provided prevented Stephen from pursuing journalism as a full. Honesty was better than a sugar-coated bush.
“So you want more investigative journalism, it sounds like. You could try meeting with someone at the police station. Or ask if your professor knows anyone who does that kind of work. I’m sure there’s a company or person that is willing to take on an apprentice. Get some more outside-world experience. You could always to the University letter, but it sounds like that isn’t your preferred route.”
It wasn't surprising to hear Orion Knight say that journalism would never be easy. Stephen figured, even just based off of the few classes he had at Oxford, that there was a lot of gray area and strattling the lines, but wouldn't the end, aka the truth, justify the means to get there? Perhaps that was always the great debate, "Writing to myself?" the young man repeated, feeling the words on his lips, "That's actually...a good idea." It's not as if he was short of environments to observe, between Hickstead University and his house, Stephen probably had a gold mine, "I'll just make sure the journal is well protected."
When the older man made the observation about investigative journalism, Stephen nodded, forgetting that his movements could not be seen. But that didn't matter, only Orion's words did. He had some curious insights, "Think someone at the station would be willing to humor a twenty year old kid?" Maybe if he could charm someone just enough, they'd probably just give him small fry stuff but it was something. The young man leaned back on the park bench now, thinking, his green eyes staring across the pond, "It's not that I don't mind writing for the University Letter, I did that at Oxford. It's just...I wouldn't know what to follow there. Although, there are enough clichés and different groups on campus here that I wouldn't be surprised there was some underground belly that I don't know about." He thought about Hickstead and Willow Bridge City, "I guess it's just between the rising crime here and the horse society, it just feels like there would be something more outside of the University bubble unless the bullying over there really had ramifications."
“It's calm under the waves in the blue of my oblivion.”
I
think they would. I say it’s better to ask than to not. Opportunities are rarely always given. Sometimes you must create them for yourself,” Orion smiled. “It’s a university, there’s usually a scandal somewhere. Especially in a horse town like this. But don’t stress too much on finding the right title. Just write. I know that’s a hard idea to handle but write whatever interests you. It could be about a game, a fight you witnessed, or maybe a letter to your younger self. A letter to someone you love, maybe a crush?”
The older man finished off with a shrug and leaned back into the bench. He let out a soft breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “I’ll give you a prompt to get you started. The next time we meet, I want you to have written about something you experienced. Let’s say...something that evokes something from you. Anger, sadness, anything. Could be from something major or minimal, like seeing a squirrel chasing it's friend. Sound like a deal?”
