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!.
Nash poured a gulp of his third beer down his throat before he clutched the red solo cup in his hand and looked around the living room at his friend’s house. Tonight had been a spin on a Christmas party of their own. It hadn’t been a real party of anything, just an evening of hanging out with the guys.
They were meant to be playing video games and table football in the converted basement while eating Christmas cookies and sipping on soda but Tom’s parents hadn’t been home and the beer had come out before Nash had known it. The teen had been a little hesitant at first, alcohol wasn’t something he longed for or had much interest in knowing the effects of it all after his father’s spell. It also wasn’t the ‘I’m not legal yet’-sort of thing, which technically should’ve been a way more important point, but he knew his mum would've never approved of anything like this.
The snicker escaped him as the last sip of beer spewed out of his mouth as fast as it had gone in. And not only from his mouth but his nose as well. Did he just fucking giggle? He had only had three beers so far, okay, two and a half maybe, but he was finally having the best time of the year and it was practically the end of December already. How messed up was that? Everything happening around him just seemed so funny. Mark tripping over his own shoes, comical as heck. The icing from the cooking getting stuck on his nose, belly laughing good. Jordan making a cheese sandwich and forgetting the actual cheese? Freakin’ hilarious.
Apparently his friends were still having the time of their lives too when they started to make their way home and Nash tried to get onto his bike. Yea, okay, he fell over a few times but that wasn’t his fault, the bike had to be rigged or broken. It had nothing to do with the beer, right? Or had it? Dang, was he one of those people who couldn’t hold their liquor? Great way to kill the Breckah reputation there. Nash held his finger up in the air as if he was having some sort of epiphany when the bike slipped down from under him once again, ”I’ll just have someone pick me up!”
His butt landed on the cold floor for the umpteenth time and he snorted a laugh. Man, it was hard to read the letters on the screen of his phone once he had retrieved the device and scrolled down through the blurry list. ”Steppphen!” the drawn out amicably words came out as lazy as he could muster when he heard a noise on the other side of the line, ”I missss you! I broke my bike, can you come pick me up at Tom’s? Oh! And do you want to get some food with me? I’m sooooo hungry, all I had was like seven christmas cookies, they didn’t even get me a cheese sandwich…”
Stephen had been hanging out in Oldaker with his friend, Gwyn Knight, and a few of her friends for the evening. The young man hadn't wanted to spend time in the Breckah household, and Violet Olson had informed him that she was busy. Her tone had been a little odd, but Stephen had brushed it off, figuring she had been distracted by her work. Luckily, Gwyn had been happy to take him under her wing of a night of d'oeuvres and wine, which the latter was politely refused and stuck to sparkling water. Laughter erupted from the crew after a rather dirty play of cards against humanity when he had gotten the call. Stephen hadn't even gotten to get a hello in before he heard a familiar yet drunk voice over the line: "Steppphen! I missss you! I broke my bike, can you come pick me up at Tom’s? Oh! And do you want to get some food with me? I’m sooooo hungry, all I had was like seven christmas cookies, they didn’t even get me a cheese sandwich…"
It took everything in his power to not dramatically sigh, "Stay tight, I'll be there in twenty." Shit. Tom was over in Willow Bridge, which made this endevor even more annoying. When he hung up, all eyes seemed to be on him, Gwyn's blue eyes staring at him questioningly, "One of my little brothers got drunk. I have to go bail him out." Thankfully, everyone, including Gwyn, was nice about it. And after smiles and looks of sympathies and apologies, the young man was out of the house and on his way to go pick up Nash. Truth be told, Stephen was rather frustrated. Not that Nash had picked him to call, that was fine, but the fact that his younger brother had gotten drunk. Considering how their dad had been, and Maverick's own path of destruction, he had been hoping the other young ones would have knocked it off. Guess Nash felt like proving him wrong though.
Fifteen minutes later, Stephen was driving over the bridge into Willow Bridge City, and another five to ten minutes later, he was pulling up outside of Tom's house. Sure enough, there was Nash sitting outside on his ass, his bicycle right next to him. Both of them looked rather questionable. At least the car and windows were dark, so nobody could witness him shaking his head before he got out now, "Nash!" He called out now, heading to the back of the car to pop the trunk, "Bring your bike over, we'll stuff it in the trunk." While it was tempting to lecture him, Stephen figured it was best safe for privacy, not to mention, he wanted to know just how far Nash was gone and see if he could even handle a beeline to the car without stumbling or falling over.
Save your lovin' arms for a rainy day and i'll find comfort in my pain
thanks aofie!
TWENTY ONE . JOURNALISM STUDENT . CRUSHING ON VIOLET YIEL OLSON CLAN BRECKAH ☠︎
Stephen’s voice sounded like an angel cutting through the dark of the night as he saw his brother getting out of the car. “Hi!” Nash beamed, it had been a long twenty minutes since his friends had left and somehow he felt company was needed right now. “My bike is a big old mess”, he laughed as his speech practically slurred and he tried to push himself up from the ground.
In his experience that particular act went way more smoothly than it actually did but somehow the fifteen year old managed to manhandle the bike towards Stephen’s trunk. “See, the wheels don’t even work anymore”, he told him as he looked from the bike to his brother and for a moment he wasn’t all too sure the older one’s facial expressions matched the angelic tone he heard just moments before. Huh? Maybe his brain was clouded or something? Nah, that would be a hoot though. Nash sniggered as he visualized it, clouds, in a brain. Hilarious.
“Want to know how many cookies I can stuff into my mouth?” he grinned as he steadied himself against the side of the car. It was definitely a fair amount and he was proud of it. Nash stared ahead of himself, oblivious to anything around him, “Do you have any plans? I don’t want to go home yet. Can we go get some food? I’m sooo hungry”