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!.
ola hadn’t exactly achieved too much today. The weather had gotten better so she was able to roller skate around the neighborhood a bit and help her dad plan some garden beds. She didn’t know why he needed her, as he was an engineer. Her siblings would say bonding time, but Zola still didn't know what that meant. They managed to get three in time for some downtime before dinner.
Zola managed to slip into the shower and clean off the grime of the day. She had a new sudoku puzzle that was calling her name. After getting into something comfortable, Zola headed downstairs. She poured herself some lemonade and made herself comfortable in the small bench nook near the sunroom. From there, she saw a familiar vehicle pull up. It was her Uncle, whom Zola knew was here in town but hadn’t exactly seen him too much. Not in a sit-down conversation type.
She would’ve gotten the door, but her dad beat her to it – after she heard voices carry into the room she was in. “Zola, Uncle Tre is here,” she heard her dad call out. Being polite, Zola closed her puzzle book and walked to the front door, her slippers being slightly heard on the wood floor.
“Late afternoon, uncle!” she greeted, giving him a hug. He looked…shorter. “What brings you around?” Most definitely a silly question.
Now that he was finally settled in, Tre Constantine figured it was time to do the thing he might have been most avoiding since coming to Hickstead: seeing his older sister. She wasn't that much older than him, but she had enough years on him to still lecture him should she feel like it. But it was a risk that Tre was willing to risk, for while he had managed to pull off seeing Grace and Quentin Constantine without running into his sister, he hadn't been able to see Zola, who had been absence from her hosting duties that day. The man also prided himself in being the cool uncle, so no matter what, Tre knew that he was going to make it happen and preferably sooner rather than later.
So he left his small little abode that the Military had provided him and pulled his Kawasaki Ninja motorcycle out of the gargae, and left. The speed of the bike, as well as Tre's quick reflexes, got him to their little (read big) abode in Oldaker without any issue and record time. Pulling up to their house, the man came to a stop, resting the weight on his leg before killing the engine. Through the tinted lenses of his aviators, he glanced out the spacious mansion and for a moment, wondered if he should have called ahead to warn the St. Germain and Constantine family that he was coming, "Nah," Tre voiced out loud to his thoughts before getting off.
Walking up to the door, he ran the doorbell and braced himself. Instead of Clio Constantine answering though, it was her husband, "Andrew, hey," Tre greeted now, putting on his best infectious grin to win him over. Andrew, to his credit, returned the smile but kept his own cool façade up, "Tre! We were not expecting you. Please come in." And just like that, Tre was offered access and in he stepped, while Andrew called out to Zola to come and greet him. Being left to his own devices for the short time, his green eyes staring over the wall, or shrine, to the family photos throughout the years - both forced and natural.
Hearing footsteps on the wooden floor, he turned to see his youngest niece now and was rather shocked. Had it really been that long since he had seen her? Given her height, it felt like it had. And it felt even more awkward when she had to bend down just slightly to give him a proper hug. Well, this was utterly embarrassing, followed up by her own question. Andrew, no doubt, was hovering somewhere to eavesdrop for the answer to that very question, "Oh, Navy reassigned me here. New assignment," he replied nonchalantly, leaving out the bit about how he pissed someone off to get sent here, "More importantly, when did you become a weed? A...very tall, weed."
If you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you & I won't let go 'til the end ❦
ell at least it’s a place that you have family,” Zola smiled, sounding wiser beyond her years. She didn’t know if she could handle having to move around as her uncle did. Zola was already stressed and struggled with the move to the UK. Maybe the military was for people that liked to travel a lot. Everyone always seemed to be on their toes, anyway.
“Tell me about it,” Andrew commented. “She’s 5’-11” now. Good thing we shave tall door frames. Granted, I don’t know if we could reach the pencil that high anymore,” her father joked. “But less standing around, we’re prepping dinner.”
Zola shrugged and followed her dad into the kitchen. “What can I get you to drink? How long have you been here?” Zola asked. It sounded like her uncle had just arrived. Though she didn’t blame him if he was around a bit longer, to get his bearings and all.
As his niece pointed out that at least he had family in the United Kingdom, Tre felt a little guilty at coming off so nonchalantly about the reassignment. Technically, family might not be the only thing that he had in the United Kingdom, but the man was quick to banish that thought as soon as it crossed his mind. This wasn't London, this was Hickstead and Croughton was no London either. He smiled warmly, "How very right you are, Zola. Good thing I have you and your siblings to remind me what counts." While his niece's voice was as straight and narrow as always, granted, he come to learn that was just her personality, Tre couldn't help but to feel like he detected something there - like sadness. A question best saved for when Andrew wasn't around.
He was very startled at the height announcement, "Five Eleven?!" Shit, that was taller than he thought, "Well, at least I know who to ask to help me raid the baklava if Clio decides to put it up high like she did w hen we were teenagers." Tre commented now as he followed after Andrew into the kitchen, the smell of dinner prepping greeting him, which was always a welcomed smell, "Water and whatever citrus you have to stick in it. I'm fine with tap since supposedly UK has the best tap water in the world." And he was ready to judge that for himself. He sat himself down at the island counter now, green eyes watching Zola get to work, "How are you liking it here, Zola? Your sister tells me you're a hostess at the pub."
If you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you & I won't let go 'til the end ❦
he gave a quick nod and grabbed some lemons and limes, taking careful cuts of the gruit before putting them in a glass. She muddled them, as her siblings did at the bar. After they looked like they should, Zola grabbed the shaped ice cubes from the freezer and placed them in the glass before filling it. “Eh, it’s been a little rough. Meeting people..is hard.” While it was a blunt answer, it was the truth. She wasn’t one to hide her issues, since therapy showed her that hiding wasn’t the best thing in the world. Especially to her mental health.
“Ah yes. It’s been interesting. I think they’re expecting a much older person, but it’s fine. I do puzzles when it’s slow, or help with the budgeting,” Zola added, sliding Tre his drink. She placed the cutting board and knife in the sink to be cleaned later. “I don’t quite understand why they wanted to do a restaurant, but it seems popular enough.”
He watched Zola go to work with prepping him a citrus water, noticing a skill or two that must have rubbed off from working with her older siblings at the restaurant, "Did Grace and Quentin teach you that or did you just decide to figure it out on your own?" Tre inquired now. It wouldn't surprise him if it turned out to be the latter, Zola had always been...a bit different. It wasn't a bad thing, she was just always matter-o-fact and appeared to like solving things on her own rather than ask for help. Speaking of matter-of-fact, the teenager gave him just that sort of blunt answer he was expecting from her: “Eh, it’s been a little rough. Meeting people..is hard.” Andrew must have ducked out, since Tre had not been expecting such a truthful answer in front of a parent.
Tre mulled the best way to ask why, but realized perhaps with the youngest of his nieces, she was the one who often did best with direct. She wasn't exactly like her older siblings where the answers needed to get milked out of them, "Yeah? Sorry to hear that. Is work just getting in the way? Or something else?" The man was willing to bet it was a bit of both, but it was still curious to hear her thoughts on the matter. He took the glass from the table once it was slid in front of him, and took a good swig from it as he listened to Zola continue to talk, "Ah, well, I think they know what they're doing. I wouldn't have helped them out otherwise...are you worried about it being a restaurant?" Tre knew Clio had been - given the failure rate, but Grace and Quentin were adults, they had to learn and start somewhere.
Although it was hard to concentrate on the worries of the older two when he thought back on Zola's earlier comments, "You know Zola, if you ever want to blow this joint, you can always text me. I'm generally free in the evenings. Despite what Giorgos thinks and what your mother tells you, I am the cool uncle."
If you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you & I won't let go 'til the end ❦
ainly from experience. I’m not an alcohol connoisseur. I found a video of a guy making mocktail versions of popular drinks. So I did some. Quentin had taken a taste, and we decided that would be something to offer. It is becoming a thing after all.” At least her siblings were willing to hear her out. Some people thought she was just there to work, but she was also there to give some kind of input. Zola was the reason that the table arrangements were changed. Made better flow for people.
Zola shrugged. “I think it’s because I don’t fit the mold of what people my age do, y’know? I would rather be out roller skating or playing sudoku. Partying and getting blacked out isn’t exactly my type of thing. I haven’t found a lot of people like me, because we’re usually all stuck inside avoiding other people.” She was at least self-aware that her people were like her. Not being out and about. It was as if there was a collected stance of only going out when needed.
She grabbed herself a new drink, feeling a bit too lazy to grab the glass of whatever she had earlier. Zola mulled over the question her uncle presented her. “Sometimes. I mean, their competitors are Moses Baker and Esther Muller. Both are older and well-respected eateries, despite their other sides. There are also Sweet Magnolia’s and various other eateries. But I think Moses and Esther will be their downfall or the people they can get advice from.” Like her siblings, she did dig deep into the eateries around the area. So far, their being a brewery has helped a lot. But in her own, secret opinion – the food didn’t feel too different. Maybe to others, there was. Maybe it was because their choices of cuts and veggies were often the leftovers. She had no reason to voice her thoughts, though. It was the public’s opinions that mattered more, anyway.
“Good to know. I’m looking forward to at least a beach day or two,” she smiled. Zola sat down at the island, only to have her father slide a cutting board in front of her and her uncle.
“If you’re going to sit and chatter, might as well make the salad,” he smiled with a teasing tone. Zola obliged and began chopping some of the cherry tomatoes.
Tre supposed that he wasn't surprised to hear his niece inform him that she figured this out all on her own with the help of youtube - then the three of them worked together to perfect it to the bar. They certainly were a curious group of siblings, they all got along. It often seemed like Zola needed a challenge to keep herself busy, not that she would get into trouble if bored, but something to just keep her brain flexing, "Well, it's quite good, so thank you for the preview."
Speaking of flexing her brain, the eighteen year old seemed to have a rather pointed observation as to why she didn't have many friends, "Well, that's pretty observant of you," Tre commented now before musing, "But I'm sure we can still find a sudoku solving roller skating friend for you." There was no doubt in his mind that some of the analysts over at the base had some teenagers that were into that sort of thing. Then, his brow furrowed, "When did roller staking become a thing again? I thought that went out of style after the 90's." God, he was getting so old now that everything from his youth and young adult life was coming full circle.
Green eyes watched as his niece mulled over his question now before she launched into a detail explanation - something she probably wouldn't share with Grace, not yet at least. It was a little surprising to hear about all the competition - he knew about the two clubs more or less, but he didn't know about some of the others, "Well, nothing wrong with being the scrappy underdogs of the culinary scene." Although he was certain that Clio did not agree with him on that one, "I'm sure they'll find a niche," and hopefully a steady return on money, "But enough about business. That's boring adult talk." Tre waved his hand now, like a topic could be dismissed like a human or a dog as he took a another sip of his water.
The man grinned now when his niece agreed to a day at the beach, "Excellent. We'll just put you on the back of my motor-" but he cut himself off now, realizing that his brother-in-law was still in the room, "car. We'll go for a ride my convertible." Tre corrected himself, offering a wink to Zola just in time for the cutting board to be unceremoniously plopped in front of them. Green eyes stared at it, raising an eyebrow before looking over at Andrew: 'If you’re going to sit and chatter, might as well make the salad.' Touché, touché. He looked over to see a spare knife and nodded to it, "Here Zola, pass that me that knife. I'll help you. I'm sure since the two of us are legal adults, we can handle this without any overlord supervision," He said jokingly now, grinning, "That is, if your dad here thinks we can be left alone to our own devices."
If you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you & I won't let go 'til the end ❦
s long as no fingers are cut off.” Zola gave a small nod to her dad before he went off and grabbed the meat marinating in the fridge. The young woman meticulously cut the vegetables, always aiming for that perfect cut. It came from watching her parents in the kitchen, but Zola wasn’t a perfectionist to the extreme that one skewed Julien cut would end her world. If anything, the number of veggies that the family enjoyed having in their salads tired her out. Not that a lot of veggies was a bad thing.
She reached for a bell pepper and began slicing the cheeks. “What base are you at now?” Zola inquired. “Are you in housing or in civilian?” There were a few bases here and there, but she hadn’t done too much digging into it. But England was an island with plenty of locations for the Navy to port it felt.
Tre did nothing but shake his head, still grinning, "Come on, Andrew. Since when have I given you an excuse to not trust me unsupervised?" Actually, he was fairly certain a lot, but hey, semantics. Grabbing himself a spare cutting board, he took himself a bell pepper or two and started working on it. Unlike his niece, Tre was doing some rougher chops, but who the fuck needs julienned bell peppers? Or cucumbers for that matter? Still, the man figured he should check in with the boss, "If you need these smaller, just let me know."
Green eyes watched his brother in-law leave the kitchen now, and it wasn't long before it was just him and his youngest niece. Zola's question prompted him to look back to her now, and smiled, "Croughton. The land of sheep and about nothing else. Nothing exciting." That was the truth, they really did stick him somewhere to stay out of trouble before forced retirement, "I'm over in civilian. I didn't want to be stuck on base or in some shack surrounded by sheep." Tre realized that some people might actually like that, but not his cup of tea, "Besides, if I was suck over on base all the time, I'd never get to see any of you."
The commute was annoying enough, well, mainly long. He didn't mind it, especially in nice weather so he could use the motorcycle. But it would appear that England preferred its rain and cloudy days over sun, "What about you? What trouble have you gotten into now that we talk freely? Seeing any one?" Truth be told, Zola was the tamest out of his nieces and nephews, and likely the most straight laced, but Tre figured it didn't hurt to ask. And honestly, he was one of those uncles that tended to be genuinely interested in their lives.
If you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you & I won't let go 'til the end ❦
guess one version of a noisy neighbor is better than the other?” she offered. Zola didn’t know too much about sheep, other than they were funny little creatures that could damage you in any second. Maybe the base kept the farmers busy and occupied, but she could dwell on that later.
She continued cutting the peppers, before moving on to the Persian cucumber. Zola cut it in half and began scooping the seeds out. Her family didn’t mind them, but if she oversaw the veg – the seeds were going. “I’ve met a few people but most of them are kind of odd. Not that’s a bad thing. A lot of personalities. I guess work has made it easier for me to be around different types. But no dating or anything. I’m too tame, I’ve been told.”
