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 let out a soft yawn that was covered by the back of her hand. She had finished a long day shift at the restaurant and was looking forward to a night in. But unfortunately, she would be dragged to an event by her family. A ball for local veterans. It was something she supported, of course, but didn't know if she could handle all the social things. Same with picking a dress.
Grace had driven her to Bel Amour to find something cocktail-length. Or tea length? Zola didn't even know anymore. Just that she had to look nice.
She stepped into the store and was instantly overwhelmed by the beauty and formality of the place. Everything was sparkling clean and well organized. There were a few people that were in the store with employees helping them.
Zola pursed her lips as she made her way to one section. A hand lifted up and she touched the tulle speckled with sparkles. Not wanting to stay too long, she looked at the person next to her. “Hey,” she started. “Do you uh…know what is considered cocktail length?”
Roisin Malloy knew she was a glutton for punishment as she waltzed into Bel Amour knowing fully well she could not afford this season's fashions. Heck, she could only afford last seasons and clearance, and that was when she scrapped enough from her family job to afford the purchases, but it never stopped her from coming in just to stare. Thankfully, she did it enough by now that the store employees didn't mind. They probably found her utterly annoying given she hardly ever purchased, but Roisin didn't care - she did want she wanted, and never caused a scene or ruined everything.
Blue eyes caught sight of this spring's cocktail dress line up and she was automatically drawn the array of colors - pastels that covered the scale of a rainbow in all sorts of fabrics and designs. Straightening herself up, and pushing her shoulders back, Roisin marched right over like she belonged. While she tried best to not touch every dress, ones with specific colors or cuts automatically pulled her in for closer inspection. Her brain was locked in work, cataloging the ones she hopped would be passed over for the season and ended up on the desperate to offload for 80% rack at the start of summer season.
She had been so enamored with her fun, that the young woman didn't realize that someone was standing right besides her looking over dresses as well. In fact, the other young woman might have gone completely ignored by Roisin Malloy if it weren't for the fact that she spoke up and a tiny voice in the back of her brain informed her that a question was being asked. Blue eyes glanced over now at the girl, dressed from head to toe in black. It was tempting to ask her if she realized she was in a fashion store over a poetry society reading, but Roisin held back, if only for how utterly lost the girl looked in a sea of rainbow, "It is, but, the way you're dressed, you don't strike me as a tulle girl." Okay, so much for holding back, "Sorry. What event are you going to? Maybe...I can help you. I'm Roisin by the way."
n eyebrow quirked at the somewhat innocent jab of words. No wonder she hated shopping. Zola wasn’t someone who enjoyed shopping, not in the sense of what people considered shopping. She liked her bathing suits and gear for her roller skates. But anything formal was just rough. There was a whole other level of confidence needed for it.
“It’s called my work uniform,” Zola replied, matching the tone she was given. At least the girl, named Roisin, apologized. “Nice to meet you. I’m Zola. I’m shopping for a gala kind of thing. I don’t know too much about it, just the dress code.” Her hand wandered from the tulle to a satin piece next to it. The fabric was slinky in her hands, a much better feeling than the tulle.
Well clearly this girl could dish out just like Roisin can, "Okay okay, I deserve that." At least it was a work uniform though, meaning it was forced upon her rather than it was really her fashion sense. At least the wrong foot that they had gotten off on turned to a good foot as the other young woman introduced herself as Zola now, "Pleasure to meet you too, Zola."
She lightened up when Zola informed her that she was going to a gala, "A gala! Oh! That's so exciting. I'm quite jealous," and Roisin really did mean that, "Ughs, I would love the opportunity to waltz around in a fancy dress." It was odd to think of a gala as cocktail, but what did she know? All what Roisin really had to go off of was what she saw in Vogue and other such magazines. Blue eyes watched as Zola's hands moved away from the tulle (thank goodness) and onto silk, "Ooo, that's a pretty color. Silk's more breathable also."
Roisin started pulling off a few dresses off of the track now, pretty much acting like she belonged there now, certain she could figure out how to help Zola out, "How do we feel about showing off figure?" She, personally, loved to do it, but the young woman knew not everyone liked to do such things, "Are you going with anyone?"
