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!.
He knew he'd fucked up almost immediately. The look on his brother's face when he clocked Derek was heartbreaking, and he gave a quiet sigh. That was his mistake, he knew Nick preferred Nash, but sometimes things stuck in your head, like your brother's name - and he always thought of Nick as Nick. He was going to pay for it now, but he'd take it - he'd take whatever was thrown at him in order to take away whatever was eating at the young kid. At least his words got him to move to the side of the road, which was an improvement from being in the middle of it. Next he just needed to get him into the car, and hopefully come back with Derek for a bit. It looked like Nick needed a moment away from the house, some dry clothes and some food.
”It’s Nash,” Yep, there it was. Derek pressed his lips together to avoid saying anything more incriminating. He pulled the handbrake up on his car and took it out of gear, but left it running, blasting on the heat. It was pouring outside, and he didn't have a jacket on, but he'd suffer it to get his brother in the damn warm. "I'm sorry, Nash, slip of the tongue." He spoke like he had a gun to his head and was putting up his hands, trying to de-escalate a situation. He -slightly reluctantly- got out the car, immediately pelted with rain to the point his shirt stuck to his body like a second skin. "What are you doing out here, in the middle of the road?" He asked, coming around the front of the car to get closer to his brother.
”Is that how long you’ve not been to the house? Fuck off, Derek” He frowned - his signature look - and shook his head, "I know, and I had plans to be over again soon, things have been busy at work." He explained, knowing it wouldn't cut it for his brother, but trying anyway. "Will you get in the car with me, please?" He pleaded, "Come back to the flat, I've got pizza, and dry clothes." His first attempt at a bribe, he hoped it worked, he could already feel cold setting in and he wondered how Nash hadn't felt it yet - he'd get sick if he stayed out here, believe it or not as his brother probably wouldn't, Derek gave a hell of a damn about the kid.
He knew his father couldn't argue with him on that part, just the way Derek couldn't have argued that he wondered if there was alcohol in Shaun's drink. Whether his dad liked it or not, there was always something going on in the house - even just because of the sheer volume of people in the family. The more people in the mix, the more likely there were to be arguments - people had different wants and needs, opposing opinions, did actions that others would disagree on. It was natural for families to have drama, it just seemed to be on some kind of epic scale for the Breckah's. They were a family of fighters, what more did Shaun expect?
"Can't a man be tired?" Derek looked at his father - really looked at him - taking it all in. He sighed, a heavy sort of sigh that should come with a man twice his age. "Of course, especially when you carry so much baggage." He didn't meant it in a bad way, he could have said burden, but he couldn't not be a little bit sour about how the 'burden' of the family seemed to lie with more than just Shaun. But every day, even the weight of alcoholism alone, and the grief of loss, would be enough to drive a man to bed every day. It was were Derek's opinion was one of sorting himself out, getting ahead of the game, shouldering the responsibilities that couldn't be shelved or fixed. "Perhaps you should be talking to someone more professional." He said it quietly, knowing his father would hate his words. It was true though, counsellors seemed to get the best out of people. "You might not then feel quite so tired."
Derek frowned slightly as his father dismissed the offer. "Uh- no, no I am good. I'd just put it aside for the boys to pick at.""When was the last time you ate?" He asked, giving him a critical eye. He felt like the father, but he couldn't help it. Who else was going to look out for Shaun, if he didn't? "If not Chinese, I can at least make you a sandwich or something? We could eat together?"
Derek frowned as he saw his brother about to turn away, "were you really about to turn tail and run?" He asked, somewhat incredulous about the behaviour, "after beating down the door like a madman on the run?" His voice was a little gruff, still only just awake. He rubbed his eyes roughly, though the cold chill of the night air was enough to help give him a slap in the face. "nothing." Derek's frown deepened, almost becoming a scowl in confusion. "What do you mean nothing?" He asked, because there was no other logical reason for his brother to be here now, at this hour, looking as agitated as he did. Something had to be wrong. Shaking his head, he stepped out of the doorway, offering space for Crev to enter. "Come inside, it's freezing." Derek's bare feet were starting to go numb, and it was too late in the evening for him to handle it.
"i'm sorry. i didn't know .. there was nowhere else to go." Derek sighed, waiting for Crev to come in before he closed the door behind him. "Don't need to be sorry, Crev, you can always come here." and he meant it to - unlike when people offered it for the sake of saying the words. He would welcome any or all of his brothers here.. well.. perhaps Keith might need to persuade him a little, but they were still blood and it was drilled in Derek that he would take them all in if something awful happened. Even Keith. "Do you want something to eat?" He asked, heading into the kitchen and switching on the kettle. He was at least getting Crev a hot chocolate, and himself a coffee - he didn't even offer the kid the choice. He wasn't going to give him caffeine at this time of night, or his age, and he needed something hot inside him. It would help steady his nerves too. Something had upset the kid, and Derek needed to know what exactly had happened. Once he'd finished getting it all together, he plunked down a hot mug of chocolate infront of Crev, taking a swig of his own coffee. "Sorry no marshmellows." He apologised.
He watched his father straighten as he heard Derek's words, and he wondered if he'd just interrupted his dad sleeping once he realised he'd had his eyes closed. It was too late to take it back now though, he'd woken the beast. Again he briefly wondered what was in the glass, if it had sent his father to sleep already - maybe it wasn't his first. It hit hard that it didn't take much for him to think the worst of Shaun, but until he'd been proven otherwise, he couldn't help but fall back on the things he knew as opposed to the things he was being told.
"Why does anything need to have happened?" Derek raised a brow, remaining standing as he watched his dad take a drink. "And no, before you ask - there is no alcohol in it." He pressed his lips together, hating that it was in his mind to ask that and the fact that his father had guessed it. "Alright," He responded with a shrug, not denying that he'd been thinking it, that he still didn't trust his father's word. "And because there seems to be an air about you like there's been trouble." He added defensively. Since when was something not wrong? It made more sense to ask than it did to assume it was all fine.
"What's brought you around tonight?" Derek blinked and then remembered himself why he had come home. He raised his right hand as if that answered the question as the white bag swung from his fingertips. "I brought Chinese, you hungry?" He asked, as much as a white flag as his dad was going to get for assuming he was drunk out front.
Derek had been away for a week, which seemed odd for him to say, but it had been needed. He'd been invited to a tattoo convention up in Birmingham by another artist, and he'd jumped at the chance, taking some much needed annual leave from his bouncer work and enjoying life up North for a brief time. It had been weird, getting away from it all. He hadn't realised when Hickstead had begun to feel like home, but apparently it did now, and being away from it felt odd. Like it had crept up on him. Still, it had been refreshing to spend time in a hotel, not worrying about cleaning or feeding himself, going out for dinners and drinks, and spending some days wandering around the exhibits, seeing the artists at work and being a part of the panels.
Now it was back to earth with a bang. He'd stared at the group chat message for a good ten minutes, debating. It sounded harsh, that he didn't instantly jump on the bike and take off. The problem was, there was always something with this family, and it hit that much harder after a week of peace and normal. He'd switched his phone off for a while, and even when it had been on, he'd muted notifications, needing a break from it all. It had been perfect, just what he needed, and then there was this. Back to the shit. He felt guilty for it, he would never be like Keith and abandon his brothers, he just couldn't do it, didn't have the heart to, but it still hurt to have to come back to shit sometimes.
It seemed he was the last to arrive, though he shouldn't have been surprised, he hadn't exactly hurried. Letting the door shut loudly behind him to announce his arrival. There was a chatting chorus of voices, all battling over each other, and he let it buzz around him until he heard 'let dad talk', just as Derek entered the room. He took stock of the faces, ranging from anger to concern and fear, he propped a shoulder against the frame, trademark frown already settling over his face. "Someone care to fill me in?"
Derek had had a long couple of days, and it was with a heavy stomach of guilt that he detoured on his way home to drop by the old homestead. It was always an odd mix of feelings when he headed down the road, a strange mixture of anxiety, that churning sick feeling, and worry and guilt - what had happened since he had last dropped in, or what hadn't happened. Guilt he hadn't popped by sooner, anxiety because he didn't really want to be there, it made him feel on edge. He brought with him Chinese food, there wouldn't be quite enough for everyone - feeding the five thousand took a lot of money and a lot of Chinese - but it was something, a tasty treat for the taste buds and all that.
His foot steps slowed as he saw the figure on the front porch, frowning slightly until he figured out which figure it was. Then he acknowledged the state of him and his head tilted curiously. Something was up, he could see it - feel it - the second he stepped onto the property. That wasn't unusual, but some days were better than others, sometimes the atmosphere wasn't so heavy with dread and gloom. His brow furrowed as he paused in front of the slumped figure of his father, a brief glance to the drink in his hand and wondering if he were to sniff it, whether it would contain alcohol. He dismissed the thought - not his problem. "What's happened?" He asked, because clearly something had and there was no point beating around the bush.
He caught Shaun's nod, but there was nothing more to be said about it on his part. He wasn't ready to say anything further. He didn't want to start an argument about all of it, he'd come in good faith to give him a hand, and he had to admit his dad did seem sober for a change, did seem with it well enough, but one day of it didn't make up for years of alcohol abuse, of drunken yelling and clobbers around the head. His ears still rang from the memory of them.
"And I interrupted your down time," Derek gave another sigh at that and glanced at his father. "That wasn't what I was saying." And it wasn't. He hadn't meant it in that way at least. Maybe it had come out that way though. It wasn't intentional but it was hard sometimes, with their fractured relationship, for things not to come out wrong or sound like an accusation or the beginning of an argument. He wondered if it would always be that way of if one day, it would actually sound genuine.
"Just tidying up as best I can, Get dinner going, washing done, get things packed away... I only have one more thing to ask - when you get a moment, tally together the money you spent on food and the like so I can pay you back. I know money isn't everything, and it doesn't fix stuff, but I know I put all of you in a bad spot - horrible spot. It won't fix things, it won't make things better, but I want to repay you and your brothers for doing what I should've been doing." He was quiet for a moment, not wanting anything he said to come out sour or patronising. He glanced at his dad, a dad that was trying, and shook his head. "I can't do that." and he wouldn't anyway. "It's done now, I don't want the money back for it. Even if I could tally it up." it wasn't as simple as one or two shops, it would be way too complicated to go back over the last few months and work it all out. He didn't have the energy.
Derek had had a long day. One of those dreadfully long days that made it hard to want to do anything more at the end of it than just go straight to bed, still clothed and all. He'd worked the graveyard shift as a doorman, but then gone to the gym instead of bed as he had an early 8am tattoo appointment that would take most of the day. Some people would have chosen sleep, but Derek knew sometimes it was better to soldier on and sleep when he was dead. Okay bit dramatic, but to at least sleep after the day rather than have two hours and be groggy. He had been downing coffee so fast he felt it would have been easy just to inject straight to the vein, but it had worked. Somehow he'd managed to finish the tattoo to his usual high standard of work and the client was pleased. But the long day and the hard concentration had taken a lot out of him.
He'd attempted to stay at the parlor and get some concept sketches done for his newest client who was due to get her ink completed next month but everything he'd tried had been sloppy and not to his liking. In the end he'd given up, swinging by Starbucks on his way home to grab yet another coffee and a quick bite to eat. There was no chance he'd be making dinner when he got back. He'd just about managed to wolf down the sandwich and get in the shower before crashing on the sofa with the TV blaring. His own fault, he'd thought that he should try and make it a couple more hours before bed but his brain had had other ideas.
He woke to the pounding of the door, Netflix having paused mid series to ask if he wanted to continue, his phone left uncharged on the table had now died, completely disoriented as to what time it was or where he was for a moment. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, groaning at the crick in his neck, a hand moving to rub at the tension sat there. Stupid. He should have just gone to bed. At first he thought he'd imagined the banging but when it came again he frowned, sleep immediately forgotten. It was late enough for it to be dark, which meant it was too late for someone to be knocking at his door. Especially like that. Covering a yawn, he checked he'd at least remembered to put joggers and a shirt on before he opened the door. "Crev?" confusion at first, until he looked the boy over and saw the bare feet, the state of undress and the wild look in his eyes. "What's happened?" Because something had always happened.
Derek had had a long couple of weeks. He'd taken on some extra shifts at the club, as they'd been so desperate for the help. Things had picked up with the beginning of a new university year and all that, the fresh blood had been fast to hit the town in an attempt to paint it red. He didn't mind all that much, though the teenage behaviour did start to wear in him quite fast after a heavy night, it wasn't as if the adult behaved any better. If anything they could often be worse. At least when you threatened the youngsters they tended to give you a sheepish look and buck up their ideas a little. It wasn't just his bouncer role that had been busy though, he'd had an influx of clients, a couple of those with quite a demand for large and complex pieces of art. In his spare time when he should have been sleeping, he'd been sketching instead. Designing and then sometimes having to redesign the tattoo's as the individuals they were for requested changes or adjustments. Some of them had been pickier than his usual lot too, which hadn't helped with his lack of spare time. At least his bank account would feel a little more fed than usual. Which would definitely help when it came to the expense of Christmas with a lot of siblings.
He felt a twinge of guilt, as always, that he hadn't been back to the family house recently because of his work. He still made an attempt to drop in when he could to least make sure there was some knd of decent food in the fridge, that the water was still running, and the electrics hadn't been switched off. If he couldn't, he'd at least text the runts to check in, but his phone had been silent from familial messages and that did worry him a little. Perhaps it shouldn't. There was the saying that no news was good news after all. Still, he made a quiet vow to himself as he packed the car up with his monthly food shop that he'd pop by tomorrow to see everyone was okay.
It wasn't long before Derek was on his way home. Heavy traffic and a road closure sent him a different way home to the usual, which found him driving closer to the house than he had anticipated, and when he caught sight of a familiar figure standing in the middle of the pavement, despite the gloom of the day, he frowned. He dialed down the sound of his music and made a split second decision to pull over to the side of the road, winding down his passenger window and leaning across the seats so he could shout his brother's name and hopefully be heard. "Nick?! What are you doing!"
Derek saw Shaun nod, half expecting a response from the words and automatically tensing - but in his father's defense nothing came; perhaps for once he had learned his lesson that making comments would end in arguments. It could be about anything too, but Derek's temper was as quick and hot as the rest of the families when it came to it, and it didn't take much to rub a nerve and spark the flames. But, he still loved his dad, even with all those complicated feelings in between. "I know." Derek glanced at him, but this time made no further comment - no need to say anything further, the message had been received. Maybe if Shaun proved to him that this wasn't all bullshit, maybe if he got his shit together and gave a crap again, he might believe it, he might relax a little. Perhaps a tiny bridge could be mended to begin to cover the chasm between them.
"Got any other plans for the rest of your day?" Derek hesitated in the doorway, watching his father go fishing for tools, wondering what he was up to now. He sighed and shrugged, "I just finished a shift so was just going to chill out for a bit until tonight's work." It was rare for Derek to have a half day off, let alone a full one, but that was his choice. He wanted to be able to afford his lot in life, he was saving hard for a house, and paying rent on the flat hurt his bank balance enough that the second job caught up with it and meant he could keep saving as he did. In all honesty he would probably have fixed himself some early dinner, had a beer and potentially even a nap so that he could get through his shift and not crash before the end of it. "And you?"
He saw his dad nod and once he felt him take up the weight, he also bent at the knees and lifted. "Yep, count of three we lift, Alright - one, two, three!" His muscles gave a small groan of protest but between the two of them, the bench didn't feel too bad. He always kept himself in good shape not just due to his work, but out of the necessity in case he needed to defend himself or a loved one - it sounded stupid but there was always a voice in the back of his head that he might need to one day, and it kept him from slacking off at the gym. He noticed that it wasn't quite the same for his father, the bench dipping down toward Shaun's side; alcohol did more than affect just your mind, his father's body was weak too.
"Thank you Derek, For helping." He gave a nod as they moved the bench to it's new place and Derek set it down carefully, taking a moment before he straightened out his back to avoid anything pinging. He wasn't even old but on occasion his muscles didn't like fast movement when he was shifting about heavy objects. "No worries, any time... just a call away." He couldn't help but say it somewhat warily. He was only too happy to come to his aid when it was something meaningful, a productive or positive change in his life. The drunk phone calls, that Shaun barely seemed to remember, where he needed help getting up where he'd fallen, or his brothers calling cause they'd found him collapsed or hurt something from drink, those he did not appreciate. It had been one too many times...
"that looks far to complicated for savages like us. too many buttons." Derek rolled his eyes, "I worry for you, if you can't even find the on switch to a dish washer.." He retorted, well aware he was being tested somewhat. He had to admit that he brothers didn't have make him feel like he was adjusting to life as a father; the constant fights and back and forth repartee. He wasn't so sure he wanted them after all this, or perhaps just the one with nobody else to fight with. He knew well enough that the boys could handle putting on a dishwasher, it was whether they wanted to or not was the issue - dad sure as shit didn't. ”I’m not an idiot derek. I’ve done the dishes like four times this week already, its someone else’s turn.” He sighed and rolled his eyes, "sometimes it's not about keeping tally, unless you all want to get unwell." Mold wasn't good for a person, and if they didn't look after themselves they'd all start to fall sick.
”Maybe you should leave properly like Keith then.” His frown became a glower as he looked at Link. "Like I said before, none of you shits are bothering to take care of things. Do you want me to repeat your whinge from a moment ago?" He couldn't help but snap a little, his patience lost. You try and do something nice, try to look after your family, and this was what it came to - don't bother, leave then, I already did it boo hoo. Christ. "fuck stain, that's a new one. losing your creativity are you you heaping pile of psychotic deranged energy," Derek frowned, shooting Mav a look, "Oi. Watch your mouth." He was reaching the end of his tether. Coming in to feed and clean up a bit was one thing but he didn't appreciate all the angry bullshit.
The shattering of glass pulled his attention again and he turned for the source, his back immediately up. That kind of noise was usually following the chucking off a glass, or a plate, and he had to fight the urge to reflexively duck just in case. "What did you do?" He asked Jace, glancing him over curiously. "No one likes you. And you're going to end up alone and you deserve it! Because you're a fuck up!" Derek shook his head, "Seriously, enough of the crap." He snapped again, stepping forward to check Jace's cut when the boy was suddenly gone. "Fuck," He muttered, "Jace! Come back so I can check your hand!" He called out, hesitating to leave the glass broken on the floor for someone else to step in. He shook his head and went to grab the dustpan and brush.
