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!.
It was weird how he would get annoyed at his mum at random times before her passing and always wondered why parents had to be so irritating at times. All he longed for were moments just like those. She had been their constant in the home, their safe haven as well as their emotional support and whenever the second youngest had felt frustrated, angry or even sad she was always there to let him get things off his chest. Even if it meant being a snippy teenager.
The small pebbles barely hit the headstone as Nash didn’t put any force behind his lame attempts of throwing the gravel at it as well as the thought of not wanting to damage the slab of stone that had become so important to him. Oh, he wanted to be cross with Tracey Breckah today, wanted to be mad at her for not being here anymore, for leaving them and being the cause of each and everyone’s mess back at the house but he also knew this was the last thing she would’ve ever wanted.
The ground was moist and damp but it didn’t matter, he wanted to sit close to the grave instead of on the bench near the trees. Besides, why would he stare at someone else’s final resting place instead of the one he came for and loved. The one he still needed. The corners of Nash' mouth turned up in a small, sad smile. If mum could still reply to him she probably would’ve told him to stop throwing rocks at her and go do something useful with his day. Figures.
God, it was quiet here, why did cemeteries always have to be so damn quiet? So your thoughts would mess even more with your mind? Nope. He needed some distraction today, needed something to smile about. Nash dug his phone out of his pocket, opened Spotify and scrolled through his lists, ”Want to hear your favourite song, mum?” he asked and pressed play, knowing there wouldn’t be an answer to that question.
Maybe he should’ve just gone back to sleep or kept his mouth shut all together because the current situation was burdened with unspoken grief from both young boys. The darkness only added to the loaded conversation that they weren’t having. The noise from the bed on the other side of the room had grown quiet but Nash had heard Creven roll over. The breathing was steading out a little but it was still in the same familiar rhythm it had been before.
The fifteen year old rolled over too and clasped his hands behind his head on the pillow, his mind returned to all those years ago when they were still little. Shit. He suddenly knew exactly what Crev was doing. "You aren’t trying to count the stars, are ya?” his blunt voice made him cringe at his own words. ”You really think that stuff helps? That’s for babies, mate…”
Oh, he remembered the bad dreams Creven used to have and how mum would snuggle his little brother up next to her and taught him how to count the stars to calm him down and make him fall asleep. It would only be moments before she would notice Nash was awake as well and beckoned him over. Mum in between her two youngest sons, there hadn’t been a better and more safe and secure feeling in the whole wide world.
He swallowed back a tear, he wasn't going to reminisce much. It would only uncover too many emotions. It was easier to ignore his feelings because man, he could still smell her hair if he tried hard enough. His brother’s reply about having to ask someone else made him shrug in the dusky room. Ask who? Like, what was he even talking about? The sarcastic comment that followed was an answer in a way that was not unknown in their household, especially with six older brother’s and one younger one. It made him snort, ”Funny.”
”No reason. Hmm. Sure. You worried about your game or something?” It was the easiest thing to say to avoid the real underlying reason. They both knew that wasn't the cause of either of them being awake but there was no way he was saying ‘I miss her too’ right now.
He snorted in an understanding way as he leaned forward and nodded, ”Yea, alright. Good point” he told the girl across from him. ”Maybe if we all read some more stories that took place in The Hundred Acre Wood the world would be a much happier place?” Life could be tough and Nash figured he needed to be lucky even though the events at home and the aftermath of it all were rough at the moment but he still needed to count his blessings for having a family and for having known his mum as long as God had intended it to last. Maybe things at home would get better? At some point…someday.
Emma had obviously dealt with plenty in her life up until now too, her body language and words about sorrow and ghosts at night only emphasized it. Nash wondered if he should just out right ask her about it or just slightly get a feel for how far he could take it. He’d usually just spat out whatever he wanted to ask but somehow this felt like a different citation. He was an idiot, yes, but no fool. ”Some people really get dealt a shitty hand in life, don’t ya agree?”
”Stephen’s at Oxford!” he beamed before twisting his lips, ”Well, he was…he’s home now but I’m sure he’ll go back at some point.” Nash wasn’t sure about that at all but he really did hope so for his older brother, the one Breckah who was certain to go places if fate didn’t go and mess things up as it seemed to be doing so at the moment. ”You have a ‘smart’ sibling too?” he wondered as he laughed while airquoting the word smart. ”What does that make us?”
Nash took a bite of his lemon loaf and grinned, not caring if his mouth was still full or not, ”Your English is pretty good though, what’s your native language anyways?” It wasn’t French or Spanish, that much he could tell. He question about his brothers made him laugh even more and he quickly swallowed the rest of his food before he chuckled it all out, ”Two, God, I wish I only had two. I have six older brothers….and a younger one. I’m sure you’ve seen some of them around school?”
”Woah, horses and football, you’re pretty active!” Dang, this girl kept busy for sure. ”I watch most of the footie on TV during the weekend and I’ve watched some school games. Oh, and any sports game my younger brother Creven plays”Well, he used to. Before.”I mostly hang out in the auditorium? he shared
’Just a scar. Somewhere down inside of me. Something I cannot repair. Even though it will always be’.
The new Linkin Park song was blasting through his earbuds and if Nash was being honest, maybe it wasn’t the best music to listen to right now. Maybe he needed to find some happier stuff, music that made him feel better instead of even more emo than his brother Jace was on a day-to-day basis. Didn’t Miley Cyrus have a song out? That probably wasn’t all bubblegum and happy go lucky pop anymore either.
The sudden words directed at him broke his train of thought and caused the teen to look at the shoes that were in front of him. Nadh casted his eyes up at the figure standing near the old oak. Ah. Shit. Busted. He popped out one of his earbuds and the cord fell down before it dangled over chest. Nicholas. Pfft. He hated being called by his Sunday name. Usually his automatically short, and clipped, reply would be ‘It’s Nash’ but this was a teacher and he should have been in class so he wasn’t sure if he was in a position to enforce nicknames he preferred right now.
Nash liked Mr. Stonehouse a lot, the man knew his music as well as his area of expertise and he was fun to be around in class. The raised eyebrow made the boy shrug, he could tell a fib but it wouldn’t do him any good, ”It’s just history, sir, ‘s not like I’ll miss much. All the events covered in class already happened anyway and I can read up on it later?” It was a good and impressive excuse even if he said so himself.
[attr="class","character-skycalls-h"]"All the world's a stage"
[attr="class","character-skycalls-text"]What was happening? This wasn’t him. Choking on stage had never happened to him before, not even during an opening night of one of the school plays. Sure, he had been nervous before, ya know, a healthy dose of tension every aspiring, and professional, performer needed but he had never actually almost freaked out. This didn’t feel good though, he felt his emotions running higher than they should but mostly he was just angry at himself for not having anticipated this being able to occur. It was Hamlet for crying out loud, death was as prominent in the play as it was in the Breckah family life at the moment.
”Because it’s only a practice round, right? Not as important as the real thing…” he shrugged, knowing these little moments could be of way more importance than he let on but he was not going to share his true feelings in front of his entire year. They already felt sorry for him, he could feel it at several moments throughout the day. Nash tried not to look at the man but he could feel the teacher’s eyes on him. This was not the sort of stuff that he was used to happening in drama class, this was the class he could destress in usually. His safe haven.
The quiet words made him look up, hoping Mr. Gallagher wouldn’t see the pain in his eyes. Take a moment? To do what exactly? Think about stuff he was avoiding in the first place? Nash snorted softly, this man was hilarious. He didn’t want to be different, things were already different and this would only single him out even more. ‘The others will go first’, Nash mulled over the words as he tried not to openly scowl when Trevor got called up to the stage. Did he just fuck up his chance to get lead roll in the Spring production?
Nash picked up a chair, spun it around, and sat down with his arms folded over the back. Like, what conversation was there to continue? ”Nah, I’m alright, I’ll watch Trevor show us all how it’s done” he replied, not liking the whispers from the rest of the class, ”sword fighting still sounds more fun though”
Nash’ eyes started to glint as a chuckle escaped him, ”I’d suggest ‘Winnie-the-Pooh’ if you want something happy?” Shakespeare had never been merry or fortunate to him, then again, he didn’t really like to read anyways. He had no patience for books and the fear of missing out on anything fun always won out. ”Um, no..” he admitted, ”I read the ones I have to?”or just google the summaries. Some were more important than others especially if they turned out to be test questions, ”Or I ask my brother, Stephen is like a walking dictionary. Did you read all of the ones on the list?”
There were modern movie adaptations? Interesting, something to look into if he ever needed to know more about one of those time period books again. ”I’d lose the plot if we all spoke the way they did back then” It was tiring just to think about that….wait….did people back then think in Shakespearian English too?! Mind blowing stuff.
He could relate to being up later than needed but Nash wasn’t going to say that out loud even if his eyes probably gave away that there was more behind his next words than he was admitting. ”Sleep is for losers anyways” he opted for, hoping he would make the girl feel better by making her smile or laugh. When in doubt, always resort to humour, that was his motto anyways. ”But it does suck…not being able to sleep” he added, not wanting to come across as a complete careless prick.
Oh, he knew what show season was, alright. His other brother Maverick was the one into horses and riding. He was pretty good at it too until the accident and Nash hoped the boy could go back to things the way they were before. ”Yea, I know what it is, my brother Mav rides too but figured every rider has a different approach to it? You excited?” And football, now she was talking! ”You play football? That’s ace! I love playing but mostly just kicking the ball around and watching matches” he shrugged, drama class mostly took up all of his time to invest in being on a sports team as well.
Somewhere along the last couple of months school had stopped being a priority. Okay, who was he kidding? Education had never been a priority to Nash but it had been mandatory and something he just did because that’s what was expected in society. It was what he had been taught, it was conformity as well as the rhythm of family life.
These days were different though. Things had become unfamiliar and time had become a blur, days seemed to drag even though the weeks and months since mum’s passing kept ticking by faster and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it. The memories of her physical presence fading even though he tried to hold on as tight as he could. Nothing lasted in this graceless age.
History class, lame. It was one of the last periods of the day but who actually did any work during the end of the school day anyways? Nope, it was useless and brains were fried by then, it was enough of a reason for Nash to decide to skip the class. He had been a nuisance in most of the classes lately, barely paid attention and being more rowdy than he needed to be, so he was basically doing them a favour by not being there. What was the worst that could happen to him? The worst had already happened, nothing could be worse than losing a parent.
Nash kicked against the big oak tree before he leaned his back against it and slid down to the ground. Gee, this wasn’t necessarily the good life either but he tried to tell himself it was better than being stuck in class. He pushed his earbuds into his ears before blasting the music through the tiny speakers as a distraction from the world around him.
Nash always needed that bustle, needed to be entertained in ways. It didn’t necessarily have to be something that had social value, even though that was a bonus, but he just needed to keep busy otherwise he would get bored and things would go south. He wasn’t really a person who loved peace and quietness, that stuff was way too nerve wracking for him, especially these days because it gave him time to think about mum never coming back and that realization made him both mad and desperate. Mad at fate for dealing their family such a shitty hand in life, mad at himself for being afraid and desperate because he didn't know what to do with those feelings.
While he never really did appreciate the stillness, it had been nice to enjoy the space in the kitchen again without arguments or people snapping at each other. It gave the boring plain cornflakes more flavor somehow, or maybe that was just his hunger finally stilling now that it was given something to eat. Either way, it was pleasant and pleasant hadn’t been a sentiment he connected to being home lately. Before he was even done speaking up the person in question bursted into the kitchen and it made Nash snap his head up quicker than he wanted to.
Stephen. With a bat. Of course. He rolled his eyes before looking back at his now almost empty bowl of cereal. ”What were you going to do with that?” he wondered lazily and nodded over at the bat. He hadn’t taken Stephen for one to be scared at night, but things were different these days, perceptions had altered. ”Whack the gremlins with it?” Boy, he was funny, even at midnight. Nash sat back as he dropped the spoon in the bowl and snorted at the comment about brotherly love, ”I happen to like cereal at night,” lamest excuse in the book, ”and eating by myself” he added as he mumbled.
”I don’t need you to defend me!" he snapped before even having thought about it. Shit. If anyone didn’t deserve it, it was Stephen. ”We can just blame the gremlins?” They could’ve taken the milk, right? It was only water those creatures couldn’t handle. Nash threw a slight hint of an apologetic smile his brother’s way, that was all he was getting. He really did not want to smile at all but, God, he was glad it was Stephen down here instead of anyone else. ”I bet gremlins are nicer than the rest of the lot that lives here”
”Oh, come on,”, he smirked, ”don’t tell me you expected all of them to survive? it’s Shakespeare after all, more than half of all his characters kick the bucket somehow.” Christ, something was definitely wrong with him, here he was trying to get away from grief and graveyards and death in general and all he found himself talking about was just exactly that.
Nash spotted the list of words. Ah, right. She was not a native speaker and even to him those words were rubbish half of the time. They really needed to update pretty much half of all the books in the school library to more modern standards if it was up to him. ”Nah, reading is still plenty cool but those old books are boring as heck. They need some modern touches, imagine MacBeth walking around with a mobile phone, maybe he even read about his prophecy on instagram”. Wicked, right?
Emma asked him if he wanted to sit down and Nash put his drink and cake, that was now crumbling into the napkin, onto the table. He grabbed the chair across from her, turned it around and sat down. i’m alright, you?” There was no way he was going to give her the truth. ”Tell me more about this show season?”
[attr="class","character-skycalls-text"]Arcades were always fun because there was this sort of unspoken competition every time you stepped foot into the place. Instant adrenaline when needed. Maybe that wasn’t exactly the case when you went there by yourself though. Shit. Nash twisted his mouth as he entered the arcade, it was like stepping into a different world than the one out there. With the sounds alone he could close his eyes and know exactly where he was. He really missed coming here with his brothers and his dad but not as the family they were these days because they were literally falling apart like a cloud breaking open and pouring its shattered pieces out. Good times, not.
Everyone in the family seemed to be doing their own thing lately, whether it was pretending to keep the family going, beating each other or other people up or ditching the family all together but it wasn't like there was anyone who paid attention to him. Nash needed the attention, he thrived on it and it felt that none of his loved ones were acknowledging his presence by engaging with him in the way he wanted to. Was it selfish? Maybe? But God, he was bored.
Hickstead sucked. He would’ve been able to do so much more than visit the arcade for the umpteenth time this month if they had lived in the city. It didn’t matter right now, at least it was warm and dry. It didn’t look busy in the game hall today but it never really was on days like these. Nash looked around as he took off his jacket, heck it was almost empty in there. He scanned the room again, “But not completely empty” he said to himself as he spotted a cute blonde headed girl playing at one of the machines. Wait, he had seen her before! At school over the past week, she was the ‘hot stuff’ him and his friends had been talking about. Who was she? Oh, he was going to find out alright.
He had hit the jackpot for sure!
Nash trotted over while trying not to look too eager but nearly tripped over his own two feet, enthusiasm overcoming him as he bumped into the girl. Fuck. He straightened himself up as fast as he could when he heard the pouting words, a frowning face eying him as he looked up. It was still a cute face though, what was all the fuss about anyways? The fifteen year old casually leaned against one side of the pinball table and raised his eyebrow at the girl in a playful way, ”I can pay you back, any which way you like....” The words were laced with confidence. Geez, Breckah, where did that come from? Could he be more obvious? Could he even live up to it? Probably not but hey, fake it until you make it, right?
[attr="class","character-skycalls-text"]Even in the dusk of the room with the slight rays of the moon’s light coming through the curtain he could make out Creven’s figure in the other bed. Sharing a bedroom with his brother had been part of his life for as long as he could remember. Nash wasn’t even sure if he could ever sleep in a room by himself anymore, the steady breathing of Crev being asleep had always made him feel safe and it was a feeling of being home, being where he belonged. Ironically enough that same breathing sound was now the core of his frustration, the element that made him miss their mother so much more. Damn genetics.
His brother’s voice was mild but it was clear he wasn’t happy with what the older of the two had said, ”Well…no,” he mumbled from underneath the thick pillow. Of course he didn't want his brother to stop breathing, he didn’t even want to think about losing another member of their family. Shit, he seriously needed to think before he opened his damn mouth but it wasn’t like he could take it back. Apologizing now was only going to make him cry, “It’s not like the rest of us breathe that way, why do you have to?”
The other teen had been right, it wasn’t like the boy could actually change anything about his respiration. Was he lashing out because of his own grief and emotions to a brother who was dealing with the exact same stuff? ”Why are you awake anyways?” Geez, Nash, compassionate much? What the hell was wrong with him, things had never been this strained between him and Crev before. Sure, they fought and argued at times but he did that with most of his brothers, that was normal right? ‘Manners maketh the man’, that’s what their parents had always taught them. ‘If you can’t say anything nice don’t say anything at all’, mum’s words. Well, mum wasn’t here anymore and he had lost faith in just about anything, if not everything.
[attr="class","character-skycalls-h"]"All the world's a stage"
[attr="class","character-skycalls-text"]Year 11. How the hell he had even made it this was far still a mystery on its own. Nash wasn’t some academic miracle-child and while he really did try, sometimes certain classes, or teachers, just didn’t match with him. Besides, mucking about on purpose was way more fun to make the schooldays pass. Drama class was different though, it was something he took seriously and thoroughly enjoyed. He definitely wasn’t attending school to be remembered for his scholar skills, nope, it was pretty obvious to any of the other students or teachers what the boy was aiming for.
To be or not to be auditioning for the play of Hamlet that they were going to be putting on this semester wasn’t really a question at all. He was Nash Breckah for Pete's sake, of course he was going to be first in line to try and get the lead part. It was his drive, it was in his blood, it was all he lived for. He was not going to settle for anything less than being the main performer in the production if he could help it. Okay, so things had been different over the last couple of months and while he couldn’t wait to let the play take over his life again, to skip out of the grief and pain that had been so very prominent he also felt heartbroken that his mother wasn’t ever going to be in the audience to see him perform on stage anymore. Never again
Oh shit. The silence around him snapped him out of his thoughts, was it his turn to say something? Nash could feel eyes staring at him as he gazed into the auditorium. It almost made him feel small and vulnerable and he wasn’t having it, he needed to reel in this part to move on. No suffocating, not now. He looked at the notes in his hands, the lines were easy to recite but the action part was something he had not thought through quite well. -Takes the skull- Yea, not happening, he wasn’t touching anything related to death ever again. ”Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him,...” he practically stammered out, ”blah, blah and so on. I’m not picking up that skull, Mr. Gallagher.” Nash stated in an almost frustrated manner as he pointed at the prop on the floor and took a deep breath, hoping he was able to keep it all together. ”Can't you just have us practice some fight scenes or something?” The teen wondered as he hopped off the stage, knowing exactly what his teacher excelled in as he tried to twist the situation as fast as he could. He was not going to lose face or show any kind of emotion in front of his classmates or teacher.
The tears came easily. Mornings, noon and night. Nash still teared up when he looked at the photos of mum that hung on the walls throughout the house. Photos in which the family was still complete, photos that would never be the same again. They had gone from just filled frames to treasures that nobody could ever replace. If at any time in the future tragedy struck again and there was a fire, floor, or any kind of destruction to the house, those were the valuables he was going to save. No questions asked.
Nights were the hardest though, mentally. Nash spent many hours lying awake all through the night, weeping silently as he thought about how life had changed at the snap of a finger and there was nothing they could do to get her back. Nothing. The only thing Nash accomplished by trying to keep his emotions private was a wet pillow with the tears he cried. All of his brothers, and dad, probably had nights just like those but there was too much going on to actually talk about it together like reasonable people. Talk about the core of it all, about things that mattered and to remember mum as she should be remembered without all the arguing and drinking and mucking up. Christ, she would’ve kicked all of their arses if she was able to.
Nash wasn’t going to break though, he wasn’t going to admit he was a crybaby so he tried not to cry each morning as he woke up into a world where his mother was no longer physically present. It was quite difficult though when his younger brother, whom he shared a room with, was undoubtedly the spitting image of Tracey Breckah in everything. Literally everything. And he was right there each and every time Nash opened his eyes.
He had been awake for a while as he stared at the ceiling while listening to Creven tossing about and his sleepy mumbles. Nash remembered the days they’d crawl into a bed together just for company and giggles. They had been so close as the two youngest and while he still felt the closest to Crev, even in times of trouble, these days things were…different. His brother’s breathing changed. Ah, he was awake. The combination of the memories and the lack of sleep however made it hard for the fifteen year old to stay calm. ”Bloody hell, Crev," the frustrated sigh and words were clipped, ”you even breathe like mum. Can you knock it off?” Nash didn’t even wait for an answer and buried his head under his pillow. Was it unreasonable? Probably. Were they the best choice of words? Nope, but that’s how it had come out and he wasn’t going to take it back either.
There was nothing wrong with having Starbucks for breakfast, right? While Nash didn’t drink coffee he loved a good slice of lemon loaf, or whatever cakes were being displayed at the counter, and hot chocolate as a way to start his day. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that early anymore but he had slipped out of the house as soon as the coast was clear and was in dire need of food right now.
He looked around the cafe cheerily as he waited for his purchase and spotted Emma sitting at one of the tables completely absorbed and caught up in a book. Items clutched in hand he made his way over, a grin tugging slightly at the corner of his lip, ”Spoiler alert, all the Mac’s die one way or another." Did he read it? No, not all of it but he had a brother who excelled in English and literature so whenever he needed to know anything book related he’d just casually inquire Stephen about it. It was a hell of a lot easier than googling it and it came in words he actually understood. Win-win situation.
Nash smiled, letting his playful and mischievous eyes do the talking as usual, ”Please don’t tell me reading books in public places is like an indulgence for you?”
School had become his second home. His only safe haven and some sort of sanctuary where he didn’t have to worry about outbursts from an aggressive brother or drunk father. All he needed to do was keep his teachers happy and content and Nash was pretty good at that while basically not doing much of the work he was supposed to be doing. Did it help that they took it easier on him and Creven with everything that happened to their family over the last couple of months? Yup. And while he felt bad about taking that kind of advantage over the back of his mother’s death he wasn’t going to apply himself to schoolwork that he wasn’t ever going to use again for the rest of his life.
Music was different though. The teen had found a love for the art early on, most definitely mum’s doing. It had been her singing that led to the engagement in his own vocal abilities and music class was certainly what made school the perfect refuge. He had forgotten his sweater in the room after class and hadn’t bothered to go grab it earlier since he had all the time in the world after school, detouring what was made these days better.
Just around the bend, the sound of a violin could suddenly be heard but it wasn’t music just yet and as Nash stepped into the room he saw it was Oliver. Christ, that boy was more talented than the Breckah boy would ever be. The bow glided over the strings and the other teen was obviously in a world of his own and seemed to be fighting the music instead of letting it guide him. Nash understood the intensity of music, the way it could make you forget about almost anything. He played a few instruments himself but nothing like that.
”Geez, what piece is that?!” Nash flashed his classmate one of his famous grins and winked, ”I was about to call you stringnado but you better stick to sharknado. Can’t excel at everything, mate.” Oh, it was a joke and the fifteen year old knew Oliver well enough that the boy would master whatever he had set his mind to.
”It sounded ace already though, way to difficult for ‘normal’ people like the rest of us” he airquoted the word normal with a smirk and sat down on the edge of the podium in the room.
