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!.
Shaun's gaze was long gone to somewhere beyond the road, to some distant point that no one would've been able to follow. Despite the cool weather, he sat in the beat up old sofa on the front porch in a thin shirt and jeans that had seen better days, just staring at some unknown space.
He was vaguely aware of the fact he'd been crying at some point, but he made no move to attempt to clear them. He'd seen the boys off, and now alone at the house, he did what he could until his shoulder couldn't keep up with him anymore. He hadn't achieved as much as he wished, but the physical pain that was radiating from the area was too much to continue working with.
He held himself awkwardly, legs drawn up underneath himself and ignored the sounds of his stomach growling. His will to eat anything was dead. He was tired but he refused to sleep, trying to mend the rickety and broken bridges with his sons. He'd lost almost fifteen kilos since he'd given up the drink, but he was more sure that it was the fact he was barely eating anymore that was also working against hm. His clothes didn't sit right, and when he looked at himself in the mirror there was a hollow shame that accompanied him, but he couldn't dwell on that. It wasn't about him. He had to pull it together for his sons. Had to be there for the younger ones, force a smile and pretend that he was fine.
He felt the tears prick his eyes again. He was such a failure of a father, of a husband... the anxiety just thinking about how to deal with Keith anymore liked to rear its head, and the depression was a constant lead weight on his heart. He was falling apart quickly at the expense of trying his best to maintain and improve what he could. He knew his sons would never really accept his apologies. That he was sorry everything went upside-down. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks but he didn't wipe them away. This was just how it was meant to be now.
He let his head fall back against the back of the sofa and shut his eyes, struggling for a moment to swallow the tightness in his throat. A faint sound, broken and choked escaped as his chest shuddered, struggling for air. Pathetic... so pathetic... He could feel his body shaking again, the uncomfortable burn as he tried to stifle the sounds that kept getting free. He brought a hand up to his mouth, covering it, a physical barrier doing nothing to help as he wrapped his other arm around his chest, fingers digging into his ribs... desperate to make it stop and failing.
"And nobody's doubting that you're not trying to get Jace to the doctors."
Shaun let his eyes close as Stephen spoke, deciding to let it be. He had no energy to actually argue the point like he would've normally. The world was just too much of a swaying bastard to actually focus.
"Maybe I can help out next time you want to take him."
"Dad, you're in no condition to find Jace. If he knocked you out earlier over something, well, I don't think he wants to see you. And maybe...he just needs somebody different to talk to."
Shaun grunted, words dying as quickly as they formed. Doesn't want to see you... needs somebody different...
"Perhaps he does," he huffed, "Anyone that isn't a fucking Breckah..."
His voice didn't have the usual venom in it that usually did when he was mad. Instead it was almost like he was disappointed in the name. Carefully he held his head in his hand, fighting the nausea creeping up on him.
"Huh, we may be in luck and they can see you right away. Looks like its a quiet nice so far."
When the car stopped, it took him a moment to register the fact before he was fumbling to undo his seat belt and open the door. Getting out was another matter altogether - it was like watching a blind drunk trying to use their legs, and it was taking Shaun a considerable amount of effort to co-ordinate himself enough to stand up. But he got there after several long moments, wincing as the car door shut.
“Now why would I do that?” she asked. “Blaming you is the last of my worries. I escaped when I could and I got out. Our siblings…they can rot with whatever poison oak is up their ass.”
"Because everyone blames me for something, it's something of an expectation. I am always wondering what level of fuck up I've gotten into this time," Shaun muttered bitterly, thinking of varied conversations he'd had over the past months with his sons and people around them. "I've gotten rather used to being the scape-goat for every screw up and failing."
“Yeah, there are times I think she only stayed in touch with me so she could relay the failures. But I’ve learned to just say I’m alive, and that’s it. But I think it’s time I cut her off for good…”
"Then cut the bitch off," Shaun grunted, "Gods only know she was a toxic. They say we can't help the ones we love, but sometimes showing them the noose is better than holding on."
He resented their parents something fierce and he made it very clear to all that there was no love left for them.
“Raising kids…it’s always a battle, but there’s always wins and losses. I think once things settle down, everyone will be in a better mindset.”
Shaun looked at his sister with darkened eyes, and once his gaze might've withered plants, but now it was full of a sorrow that had settled in like mud in a river. There was so much he wanted to say to her words, to try convince her that her perspective was so jarringly wrong on this, but instead he let it go. He had no more fight to give.
“You’re correct, I’m glad that I healed as well as I did. Though, I feel guilty that Pat quit her dream job to care for me. Which is one of the reasons why I’m here. She found a job that she wanted, and I couldn’t say no to her – when she already sacrificed so much.”
"You do many a strange thing for the love of your life," he said quietly, "Things that make no sense to the rest of the world."
“Is that so? Well, I guess I should try to open my inner thesaurus,” she replied, trying to lighten the mood. “Good to know. Though, I don’t want to cross any boundaries. Keith only tells me things that he thinks are okay to share. Don’t know if that means anything or not.”
Shaun snorted and rolled his eyes, "Keith sharing what he thinks is okay to share, and how he goes about that leaves a lot to be desired. I wouldn't be surprised any more if he decided to give my details to the nearest hitman nowaday."
“But the invitation is the same for you. Granted, I live in the city – so it might be more of a trek. Our house is still under a lot of redecoration. I’m told I need to not get too involved since the stress might undo all the hard work put into me,” she snorted.
"I'll be sure to bear it in mind," Shaun nodded, looking more tired than before as he shut his eyes, "And obey what you've been told about resting. No need to undo all that work and take set backs."
"Alright," He responded with a shrug. "And because there seems to be an air about you like there's been trouble."
Derek wasn't wrong and Shaun knew it - how often was it that the house was actually calm and content? It was such a rare thing that he doubted that it existed at all, but even so, the fact that it was the first thing that Derek thought of stung just a little. And that fact there was 'an air' about him also wasn't too far wrong, it just wasn't what his son thought it was but what point was there in explaining it to him? Derek had always been the logical one, practically driven by it and rarely if ever emotion. So how could he explain what he was feeling to a young man that he doubted would care about it? Who would simply wash it aside as if it were simply laundry.
"Can't a man be tired?" he asked softly, no hostility about him as he set his drink on the side table. If only you could understand the tiredness I feel...
"I brought Chinese, you hungry?"
Carefully, he made faint dismissive gesture as he rubbed at his face, "Uh- no, no I am good. I'd just put it aside for the boys to pick at."
He almost added how much his sons were like buzzards in regards to food, but somehow he couldn't even make the light hearted joke. It felt like what little teasing he'd ever done was now a no go for any of his sons.
Shaun's eyes were almost fully shut as he sat there - a short nap couldn't hurt right? Just a few minutes, that's all it would be. He had things to do. Had to do. Couldn't be avoided. Yet no sooner did he feel like he was about to slip off, the sound of feet brought him back to the present, almost like a paranoia-trigger - was it Jace?
He sat up a little straighter once he recognised Derek approaching like he was a hazardous snake in the way.
"What's happened?" He asked.
He quirked a tired brow, "Why does anything need to have happened?"
He sipped the drink before setting it on the small timber table beside the couch, "And no, before you ask - there is no alcohol in it."
He turned his full attention to Derek, trying to read his face, "What's brought you around tonight?"
"And how the fuck are we going to make Keith pay for it?"
"So Jace is gone? Where did they take him? Was it Keith!? Can we go get him? They can't stop us right .. I mean we're his family and this is his home .. they can't just take him! They have to let us bring him back."
”Mate, you’re bleeding..” ”Fucking Keith apparently made himself Master and Commander of this family when he’s not even in charge of the damn ship.”
"Just let dad speak."
"Someone care to fill me in?"
Shaun got up from his chair and went over to Creven, gently ushering him over to the sink and turned on the tap, "Put those hands under the tap Crev, please."
He moved over then to the fridge and pulled the first aid kit from on top of it and went back over. He took a deep shuddering breath as he collected his thoughts - they were all a massive jumble, so many questions that wanted to be answered by boys who felt the need to either leave or go to war over the situation.
"I will condense the explanation on account there are some things that should be left out due to younger ears, as well as the fact that in the bigger picture does not need immediate family addressing," he said as calmly as he could manage whilst making very clear he would not be budged on that - there were just some things that needed not come out right now, "The last two months, I've been trying to get Jace to go into a doctor - really, anywhere that would be able to assist; and there are two main reasons for that. The first being that Keith decided to put a deadline on everything, as well as the fact that Jace has... at least three times previous, knocked me unconcious and acted out in overly violent ways - more so than usual."
He rumagged through the first aid box, trying to keep his hands busy, "Today was the end of deadline and Keith had told me he would bring in his own form of help, which he did. Multiple police and medical professionals entered the house and removed Jace by force, and I won't deny my temper was there to boot. After Jace was taken out of the house, Keith informed me that he had full Judge permission to remove Jace, and that the only way we can go and visit him is by contacting Keith... who will determine who can visit and when..."
Gently he ruffled Creven's hair, "So yes, Jace is gone and there is currently no way of getting him back - Keith decided to step in. Under no circumstance whatsoever are any of you to start head-hunting Keith, and I mean it - first one to stir shit up with Keith is going to be in bigger trouble with me. I understand if anyone present wants to leave or otherwise step away from the family as a whole, I will not hold it against you. And if you do decide to step away from this entirely, you are still a Breckah and no Breckah gets left behind."
“I’m not blaming you, Shaun,” she replied, with the same edge. “At least you were to escape and not deal with Dad’s rant on religion. They told me I got possessed by the devil when I got pregnant. If anything, I envy that you were able to get out as fast as you did.”
"Sometimes Elaene, I wish you would've blamed me more," he said quietly, "I got out on sheer luck with my career. I took a gamble and had I thought dad would go so south I would've taken you with me. But with limited money and you no passport at the time, I just took the only route I could see without really looking. Maybe if I'd stayed another year..."
“I’m aware…Keith told me. I chewed mom out over it. There are times I want to believe she’s a victim too…but I think the idea of giving herself a bad name is scaring her into staying.”
At that, Shaun scoffed scornfully, his frown deepening, "That woman is just as much the snake of Eden as much as she was tempting Father Ryan behind dad's back. She's no victim, she's just just a chameleon changing colour and tune to suit whatever crowd she's around. I wouldn't trust her with my life support if it came down to it, she'd turn it off even if the odds were in my favour."
“If your sons thought that...would’ve they stayed with you? I mean, they’re still around and talking to you. None of them have outright cut you out, right?”
Slowly he sat back in his chair, leaning into it more, "Not quite. The two younger kids don't see it, but their brothers are only hanging around to make sure they are fine, making sure I don't fall back into that black hole of alcohol again. Memory serves - it's not about you Dad. We're hurting, but you have to pack it up and carry on for all of us. They hate me, and I know as soon as they are old enough, they will leave."
“Yeah, nothing like a staph infection wreaking havoc on a valve – so you need to get a life-altering surgery at 40.”
"You're alive, you have your family, it's all that matters in the end," he said gently, "And so long as you are happy despite the surgery, that's all that matters too."
“Maybe it is the string of trauma, but twenty years later, is better than never. If we’re going to live this close, might as well get used to it. Our kids are going to start asking questions…and lying isn’t in my forte.”
At that, he made a weak gesture, "Trauma.. might be the term for it, but I hear that word again this week it'll be far too soon... I suppose so, well even though this might be redundant because of Keith, but the door to number twelve in Olderaker is never locked if you ever feel the need to swing by."
“Yeah, you made that pretty clear when you left first.”
"What else was I meant to do?" he asked, his tone taking a slight edge now, "Remain laying down at his feet? Letting him walk all over my wife and calling her nothing more than a whore looking for fame in the family name? I did what I had to, still wasn't enough."
“It’s okay. I don’t think he would know what to do either. He’s met a few of his cousins from what I hear.” Elaene tilted her head at his comment about being a bad father and she made a soft scoff. “As long as you’re not becoming dad, I think you’re fine. You seem to have proven that you have an ounce of care?”
"Probably. I've heard Clayton came to town and is hanging around against his father's wishes," he raised a brow, "I don't know what I am anymore, the lines gone blurry, but I am sure some of my sons would say I am becoming just like that monster - jaded, bitter, ever angry. The only thing that sets us apart is the fact I didn't sick family friends on any of my grandchildren." He looked at her, his eyes dull, "Ounce of care? Again, ask the boys that - they'll give you the right answer, I don't know any more."
“Well, that makes the both of us. A busted shoulder and an open-heart surgery aren’t exactly comparable...”
"It's not busted, just tender. It'll be fine," he grunted, denying it, "It's definitely not comparable... Your heart was broken and they fixed it."
And they can't fix mine...
“I don’t expect anything further than this conversation. But I just wanted to see how things were going. I’m glad you’re at least still kicking.” And that was true. “I just don’t see myself avoiding you forever, does that make sense?”
"Then what was the point Elaene?" he asked, a puzzled frown crossing his face as he stared at her, "I'm kicking, but that's about it as far as I need to be... You've always been the mystic Elaene, but it makes sense."
Shaun's smile was fragile as he remembered those days, "Not quite. In the beginning your mother was a little more quiet, a little more... softly spoken. She was always worried that Father Eugene would tell our parents, but after a little bit, she gained confidence, became... free in a sense."
Gods they had been young and stupid and so wildly, blessedly in love he'd once thought that the only thing that could stop them was the Devil himself. And even then he would've battled like he was the only man on Earth to keep her, and would dance over fired coals to spare her the pain of walking them herself. How far they'd come... How broken his heart...
"You're not poison dad."
Shaun looked at Creven and gave a wry smile only a father could give his youngest, "Oh Crev, never lose that optimism."
"How about we go together?"
"We can do that if you want to do that, though I warn you - it'll be a long and tedious venture."
"Close, you got the ball part right." He teased gently. "Hockey and Soccer. We have a game next weekend, you can come if you want?"
Shaun chuckled softly, "At least I got something right. I will definitely be going to your game. You give me the time and place and I will be there. Promise."
"Wait .. whose Elise?"
He paused, blinking - almost reeling, "Just... Just a little girl who isn't with her family any more..."
“Tá a fhios agat an freagra.You know the answer. Which son is the black sheep?”
He sighed and shook his head slowly, defeated, "Ar ndóigh, Keith a bhí ann. Níor chóir go mbeadh ionadh orm."
“Well, not like you reached out to me either. The one brother that I hoped would,” Elaene added. “I’m only here because I almost died.”
"I've reached out to no one," he replied, wrinkling his face slightly, "It was better that way."
He raised a brow - almost died? But he didn't bring further attention to it, almost entirely numb to the meaning of the word. What was there to say to that? He couldn't find anything meaningful, and words could not alter what had been.
“My wife insisted I slow down a bit, so we moved. My son lives here, as well – so I’m impressed you two haven’t made yourselves acquainted yet.” Elaene twirled a loose strand of hair between her index and middle finger as she took a sip of her coffee. “But then again, we're not from a tapestry that tries in that type of situation.”
"I wasn't even aware he was in the area to be frank," he remarked, "It might be best then, if your son and I don't meet. I think I'd be a terrible person to meet in any circumstance, and a worse uncle at that. Gods only know I'm a horrible father."
And he was honest on that. He'd let it sink in, accepted it and now he freely said it out loud for the world to hear it because he didn't care any more. He was a horrible person, and whatever he did only seemed to burn down more bridges than make them.
“For once, someone wasn’t exaggerating that you look…terrible.”
He made a non-commital noise in the back of his throat and shrugged. His clothes were bagger, his jacket seemed to swim on him from the way he was sat in his chair. He went to reach for the coffee on his desk, forgetting his shoulder for a moment until the pain snagged and he pulled it back to his side, rubbing his shoulder roughly for a moment before reaching out with his other hand.
“Still chugging coffee like a granny with her whiskey creams. Good thing I brought a replacement, huh?”
"Why are you here?"
His voice was soft, non-aqcusing. It was not the usual demanding bark that he was known for. He didn't look up straight away, still processing the fact that his only sister had turned up despite the fact he'd ignored her message. Hell, even just learning that she was living in the same town as he was felt like some cruel nightmare he couldn't escape, but he left it alone. After all, that would make him ever more the hypocrite.
"I know you texted me," he continued, looking at his hands, "I know you said you were in town. But explain to me how you got my number - its changed so many times I expected no one would reach out... why now?"
He looked up at her, his face much more drawn in from a lack of sleep and recent weight loss. He searched her face, familiar yet at the same time so foreign to him.
It was quiet in the gym, but that was ok. There were still people in the building and that was all that mattered. Walking through nursing what would be his fifth coffee for the morning, he spoke to the young man behind the reception desk briefly about a few small things that he needed noted from the front desk. There were odd numbers in the records and he needed to double check them to make sure there weren't thieves deciding to take whatever they wanted from the gym.
Then he went up stairs, two small flights of metal grate stairs that led to his office - a relatively small space that contained filing cabinets, a trophy wall and a narrow corner desk that had seen better days. He didn't bother to shut the door - a policy he'd kept from day one unless it was a private meeting for sponsors or restock. But there was nothing like that planned so there was no need to shut the door and block out the sound of the gym working slowly on the ground floor.
He set his coffee aside, the caffiene doing nothing to shove the tiredness off his mind. He hadn't slept the last few nights, woken between pain and dreams that broke his heart. So he had reached for the coffee and thrown it back like water in the hopes it made him look more alive than he felt. Carefully he ran his hands over his face, sighing.