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!.
Welcome to the Horse race! A number will be randomly generated, between 1 and 20, which will help determine a player's placement in the race. It will be run similarly to the horse shows and lessons, where staff will post a number. The participant will then post their experience on the track.
Whoever has the lowest number wins as higher numbers equate to a slower-paced run.
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
He had been a little surprised with Naomi Campbell had offered her flaxen chestnut thoroughbred filly, Shamrock, for the Primrose race. Honestly, Sage had just expected to dick around with Pointer to see what happened, instead, his boss had pretty much handed him the keys to an astin martin vantage. Truth be told, he couldn't decide what had been greater - Naomi's decision or the look on Cara's face.
Now, of course, was now his time to stop dicking around as he got himself up into the tiny racing saddle. Shamrock tossed her head, flaring her nostrils. She was as ready to roll as he was, "Let's save the theatrics for the race, Sham." Sage muttered now, giving her a pat on the neck as they walked to the gate. Blue eyes stared ahead now, everything but the race and Shamrock cleared out of his head. His breath was keeping even as assistants came to load them into the gates. They were boxed in now, but the filly didn't seem to care. She leaned back against the gate, ears pointed forward, as if she were talking a relax on a beach.
Sage moved forward into half seat, hovering over Shamrock's neck. He felt her shift, their connection through the bit and the reins, their breathing steady and lined up, they were one in body and soul. The bell went off, the gates snapped open, and he dug his heels into the filly's side as Shamrock sprang forward with power. They raced around the track, keeping as close to the inside of the fence as possible, a little behind the main pack. Blue eyes watched the cluster ahead of him, waiting for an opening as they drew near, "Time to work our magic."
He asked, and Shamrock gave, picking up her strides now from that beach lazy day to striking perfection as they weaved in and out of other horses now, coming up upon the others. As the final furlong came, the straightaway as everyone broke and people seemed to realize what Sage was up to. The crowds were roaring, it only seemed to encourage Shamrock to extend more. Then came the photo finish, crossing the line with a few others, and Sage began to slow to her down. He was covered in dirt, but it was a good feeling as he pushed the goggles up now. He wasn't sure who won, but either way, Shamrock deserved all the rewards for that run.
Bode Donahue had opted out of brining Cheyenne to the Primrose Race, figuring that his show horse would balk at the idea of being in a group of horses. Instead, after some talks with the Ledor-Kita's, he was finishing up saddling Lucy instead. She was there not only as an advertisement for Helping Hooves, but her saddle pad had an 'Adopt Me' stitched on the corners as well. Plus, as an off-the-track thoroughbred, Bode figured the bay mare may enjoy the thrill of a race again, even if it was just for fun.
Inspecting her once last time, checking for anything that seemed off and pulling her front legs to stretch them, Bode felt like they were set. The stablehand that he brought with him, Alax Walker, helped him up into the saddle now, and lead Lucy towards the gate as the man situated himself in the saddle. His dark brown eyes looked at the other horses and riders getting squared away - he recognized quite a few from the show ring and other stables - which meant this might actually be quite the race. Once Bode and Lucy were locked in loaded into the starting box, he moved forward.
Lucy huffed and snorted beneath him, her ears and eyes forward as she tossed her head a bit. Bode couldn't help but to smile, clearly she was ready to go. The gates opened, and they were off into the pack. Lucy moved forward with ease - clearly that daily regiment of cosequinn was helping her out. Bode steered her to the inside, but it became clear that she still wanted to be the front runner. Rather than fight her, he let her go off - at least dirt wasn't getting kicked in his face from there. As they rounded the final lap, both Bode and Lucy could feel the pack of horses starting to close in.
He urged her forward, to try and keep the lead, but already he could feel Sage Lavigne and his horse pass them. Lucy gave it her heart though as they crossed the finish line in a blur. Bode pulled back on the reins now, slowing her down from gallop to canter, forcing the mare to catch her breath and come to a trot on her own terms. He gave her a good pat now as he shifted in his saddle to try and see the scoreboard as Lucy walked on.
Elle had never ridden a horse race before. She'd thought about a jockey license a long time ago, but then her life had turned upside down and everything changed. She'd spent years riding horses on the track, just for their exercise circuits, and had loved it - the feeling of excitement the racehorses gave, the speed that they could reach, the power beneath her as they strode out, and their characters and how they didn't deserve the bad rep they often got for being racers. She hadn't done it for a few years, instead she'd been working for the Whites with mostly hacking and some schooling, and it had been good work -she enjoyed it - but there was something about a thoroughbred...
This opportunity had come about randomly; one of the liveries had been the horse race and asked Elle directly if she'd consider being jockey. The horse was one she rode regularly, so she knew him well, but she'd never let him out full stride on a hack - the owner was working on eventing with him, and therefore schooling had been about settling him into his paces and bringing on more flexibility and muscle. She had taken him for a quick go out on one of the field hacks recently so she had a feel for him out in the open like that, and she felt ready to take on the competition. She'd promised the horses' owner she'd try her best but not to get too excited. She had walked the big dark bay around the paddock herself, though she'd had a groom offer, she wanted to warm up with the horse and check he was looking good and ready to go.
She accepted the leg up when it was time, putting her feet in the tiny irons and gathering her reins. The big gelding snorted and picked up a light jog - but he was harmless. Riverside Riptide hadn't been in racing for years, but he still knew the vibe and the sounds of the crowd; he was just particularly well mannered about it. Elle patted his glossy thick neck and headed down to the start at a steady pace, keeping him collected in the canter as she got settled in the racing saddle and gave him time to warm up and get comfortable. He played with the snaffle and leant into her hands a little, but stayed soft enough - all the schooling sessions had done wonders on him, and Elle hoped this wouldn't set the lad back too much.
She lined up with everyone at the start, her nerves turning in her stomach, but she pushed them aside and worked on staying focused and keeping calm, not wanting to give Ripper the wrong feelings through the contact. Once they were loaded in, she gave him a quick pat, but tried not to relax too much as the others joined her on either side. As the call came, she bridged her reins and sat forward in the saddle until three.. two... one... bang - they were off. Ripper still knew what to do when the gates opened and he leapt forward, ears pricked for a moment until they went back against his head, streamlined. He opened up his stride and raced for the front, until Elle gave him a squeeze to bring him back.
He wouldn't have the stamina to get out in front and strike off, he needed to settle back in the pack and let the others run themselves tired. He was a large horse - over 17hands - and he had a longer stride for it - but he also had more to lumber round the track, and he wasn't racing fit. He was polite enough to come back to her, though he was strong in her hands, and he changed his lead to match the turn of the track. She saw a couple of horses come past her on the outside but she let them go - they didn't need to chase. "Easy mate, we'll get them," she murmured as she felt Ripper itch to respond. The pace remained steady, and Elle stuck to her guns, needing to urge the gelding on a little as they headed for the final turn - he'd switched off just a tad, and he was clearly feeling a little tired as the adrenaline began to wane. She clucked and kissed at him, waggling the whip at his shoulder to let him know that it was time to dig deep and hit that final gear.
They turned onto the straight, and Ripper responded. The sweat of horses close around him, the road of the crowd, the encouragement of his rider helped him find his stride and that last little burst of speed. At least two horses out in front pulled away, but Elle didn't care - she didn't quite riding all the way to the finish as Ripper tried his big old heart out and gave it his all. As soon as they crossed the line, she sat up and eased up, whoa-ing to the gelding as he puffed and blew. She let the reins slip through her fingers so he could stretch his neck and catch his breath, slowing to a trot and then a walk as they headed to the exit to walk off and cool the gelding down.
Leo might have prepared himself somewhat for the race - by having ragged poor Rico round the trails once or twice before the race, but he was not prepared to see everyone completely fuck off at the start. "Well shit," He muttered, having expected to be a front runner on the old lad and now finding himself hanging near the back. He clucked to the horse and waved his stick about, trying to send him on without too much of the attitude. "Come on dude, give me something," He pleaded, clucking more with his tongue and releasing all contact on the reins to encourage him forward. There was a little bit of something, but they didn't make it much further up the pack, and Leo frowned but stuck behind. Okay, well they could always conserve and go for catching up at the end - like a hero's win. Everyone loved an outsider's win, right?
Maybe he should have made more effort to befriend Rico before throwing himself aboard and expecting him to win a race for the guy Rico had never particularly liked. He'd thought Rico would enjoy it - the race, the thrill, the adrenaline of it all, but maybe he just wasn't feeling it today. Leo changed tact, riding more sympathetically and trying to be gently persuasive, but nothing was the trick today and as they flew down the final line, the horse gave a little more but not enough, snorting as they crossed the line toward the back of the herd. Leo slowly pulled him up, giving him a disappointed pat all the same - he'd given something, though Leo knew Rico had kept plenty hidden away in the tank for a rainy day apparently. "Ah well mate, you can go on back to disliking me now." He laughed as they headed back to the stables to cool off.
Morgan's friends called her crazy for doing a race on a horse she had rescued not that long ago. She was a firm believer in giving her horses different situations in terms of their training.
She trailered the red roan mare to the race grounds - getting her ready with the rest of the Blue Acres gang. Emma had volunteered to groom for the red head - the two were chatting along as they tagged teamed getting the mare ready. Montana was surprisingly calm, enjoying being doted on by the young teenager.
The older woman began tacking up, using the Western tack she had custom fitted by Kayleigh. She put the black boots on her front legs, wrapping her back legs with matching black polo wraps. Morgan fixed her ponytail and set her cowgirl hat on her head before bridling the mare.
It wasn't long after that the two were in the starting blocks. The other horses were nervous and excited, which bled over into how Montana was feeling. This was the first race for both of them, but they were ready. The assistants made sure Montana was in the shoot correctly before moving on to the next horse. Once all horses were checked, the signal went - Montana galloped off with a swift kick from Morgan.
The two were off to a good start, sticking to the inside track when they could and passing others when Morgan felt it was safe. Towards the end of the race, two riders caught up an passed her - the rider didn't want to risk anything but kept a good galloping pace not to let anyone pass them again.
Once the pair passed the finish line in third place, Morgan brought the mare back to a jog and then a walk - allowing her to cool out around the track before walking her back to the temporary stabling.
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