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!.
“Wow, if you hate grime so much – why are you still here?” he jabbed. “Also, it’s called working. Probably something you don’t know what it is. And if you do, you’re probably doing something silly like drugs or playing secretary.” Despite the words, Hunter’s tone never changed. Just nonchalant, monotone. But he wasn’t going to let her kill his vibe.
“Tch. Nothing like rich assholes to treat the people that build their homes and shit with the most disdain.” He and his dad had their fair share of rich people just building a skate park just cause. The money was good, but damn some rich folks were idiots. Hunter did his best not to judge people and poke the stereotypes but this chick was a walking stereotype for sure.
“Sounds good! Let me grab a few sizes and styles and then we can see what feels more comfortable.” He turned around to step onto a step ladder to grab some higher boards. Despite being tall, there was still quite a bit of inventory and it reached up all on the walls of the shop. His eyes found three variations, sizing from 9.5-11, either shaped or popsicle. After they were in hand, he climbed back down and walked from behind the counter.
“Alrighty let’s try this LandYachtz. It’s a 9.75. I just want to try it for size and see how you feel.” Hunter placed the plastic wrapped board onto the specific rug spot for trying boards. “When you’re putting your feet on, match the bolt holes. I’ll guide you from there.”
Hunter shrugged. “Eh, my mom loves it. Hard to get good Mexican around these parts, she says.” He had been poor a good chunk of his life so knowing a good selection of ethnic food was not a history of his. Hunter did like trying new things though, especially when he traveled around. Something about experiencing different food after slaving away in the sun. Granted, it took him a while to build his spice palette. But it had gotten to the point of him being able to eat triple spicy at the local Indian joint.
“Hey, as long as someone shakes on it. You can't ever go back on one of those. I guess it keeps the shady business shady,” he smiled. Hunter would never do something like that. But he had seen people do it. Hold a hand shake over someone. It was a street kind of thing to do. “Damn, they still do school in the summer huh? That's rough. Well, I'm glad to hear that I'm somewhat of an interesting enough fellow. Though America sounds pretty neat. I've never been but I want to. What part are you from?:
Hunter opted for a margarita over ice, with a lime and tajin rim. It wasn’t usual, but he figured he would be here for a moment and was already pretty full of bar top snacks. When the drinks were dropped off, he added them to his tab. “Cheers,” he smiled, holding up his glass before taking a sip. The salty and acid of the tajin raced his tongue and lips. Ever since his mother had brought some over after a vacation, the taste of tajin and chamoy was a weird fix.
A hearty chuckle escaped him as she inquired about his doings. “Yeah. It’s the local spot for my coworkers and me. It’s a good business model. People get mad when they lose, so they buy more alcohol – even when they complain about losing a few quid to a so-called rigged game. I mean, the entertainment value is always priceless.” He shrugged. “You’re quite a way out from the Uni, right? Escaping a final exam?” Granted, his time frame of ways was different than people from the US. A pro had traveled in once and overheard Hunter complaining about a two-hour drive. That was an eye-opening conversation.
His smile widened. “Hey, you know – nothing wrong with starting something new. Nice to meet you Eva, I’m Hunter. How about we figure out what you kind of want to achieve first, huh? Are you looking for a more commuting style? Or are you want to head first into the land of tricks? Both are solid in their own right, but the latter will take more time.”
Hunter himself sometimes wasn’t a fan of being the professor type of these conversations. But he had watched his dad go through a mental list of questions. So far, it had never steered anyone wrong. Plus, it also gave the customer a few options, even if it meant that they left feeling they would never pick up a board. After all, it took a really strange person to want to ride a piece of wood around for fun – with the possibility of a broken arm.
Hunter snorted when the disgust became apparent in her tone with his shirt meeting his wheels. “Because I’m not a stuck-up Richie rich.” He rolled his eyes as he changed his balancing placement. “And no, it doesn’t. Because we already do something so stupid. Not everyone is cut out to fling themselves into the air over a cement ground, and land on four or two wheels.”
He smirked when she got offended at the ramp tramp comment. “Not my fault,” he shrugged. “Sometimes the rich girls and boys around here like to find the dingiest guys to piss off their daddies and mommies.” Hunter himself wasn’t into that kind of thing. He was used to people watching him, either in awe, disgust, or sexually. His mind was always elsewhere, meaning how he would land something or how high he needed to ollie.
The front of his board hit the ground, but barely made a sound. Not wanting to stay idle too long, he gave himself a little push and made his way over to the bench with his stuff. All the talking had made him realize how much he needed some water. He grabbed his massive water jug that was covered in peeling-off stickers and cement dust. Another thing that would make her look at him with utter disgust.
Hunter looked and smiled at her. That boyish, playful smile he always had, the one his mother was convinced would be the thing that would break a few girls’ hearts. Hunter didn’t know if that was true or not, but he knew there were plenty of ramp tramps out there. Ones he often didn’t associate with, even if they were only there to gawk and maybe try to get something out of it.
“First time board? Alrighty. Nice to meet you Eva, I’m Hunter. There are quite a few things going on in it. I guess the first thing is – do you want a board that you can ride and do tricks on? Or are you looking for something like a cruiser? Bigger base, and softer wheels. More of a commuter type of ride.” Granted, most people went for both – but the trend of cruising seemed to be a current thing now. Not like it was bad, but Hunter wasn’t about to charge someone up the ass for it.
“Nah, doesn’t get in the way of steeze, but it fucks up grip. At least my shoes aren’t wet either.” Hunter shrugged and began running the hem of his shirt on his wheels, like a kid wiping their hands on their shirt after eating chicken nuggets. Hey, his shirt was at least dark and not white.
“Hmm? Yeah, board got caught up. But this shit humbles you.” He wasn’t exactly expecting the conversation to keep going. It was always short, thanks and goodbye. Usually, he wouldn’t mind – but he was losing daylight. But Sarah would yell at him if she knew he was being rude.
He tilted his head and looked at her. Was she seriously pulling the Do you know who I am card? “Nope. Don’t know you. But if you’re a ramp tramp, then I’m sure I have friends that know you. I’m Hunter,” he replied, dropping his board to cement. If she was going to force him into conversation, he could at least work on his balance. So he got onto his board and tilted himself into a manual position, balancing on his back wheels.
The need to make a joke about her name was there, but Hunter knew that it would be in extremely bad taste. His humor amongst his friends and family sometimes wasn’t the best for the public. “Twenty minutes? Wow, I hope work has been paying you well to afford it,” he chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. “Nothing wrong with a bit of liquid courage. I’m Hunter. How about I treat yah to some courage before I flex my nerdy skills?”
Hunter wasn’t one to deny that he had a bit of an obsession with pinball in general. The only other person he had seen attack this one specifically was a teen girl or a few kids that were allowed in during family time. Maybe the theme was too kiddie for the others, but Hunter could care less about that.
Call is obsessive, Hunter called it exercise. The weather was predicted to be extremely warm and Hunter didn’t want to be stuck out in the blazing sun. While the park in Hickstead was nice, there was limited shade which was a bummer. His dad was lobbying for them to be able to build a shade tarp, but the town thought it would be an eyesore. But Percy thought that a bland shelter was worse, but nonetheless, the hard-core skaters would be set up with umbrellas attached to their chairs. If they were that smart, that is.
As he was rearing up to grind the taco coping, his board caught and shot out. Damn. Hunter rolled, like a professional parkour person. He stood up, finally feeling the burn on his lower arm. Well, could be worse. But where did his board go?
Thankfully, someone called out that they had it and he turned to see a girl with it. Man, he was having some luck the past few days with the cute girls. He jogged over. “Thanks!” he smiled, taking it back. Once the feeling of the dew on his wheels hit his shirt, leaving a small wet mark – Hunter frowned. “Damn, my wheels are wet. That sucks ass.”
The shop had been quite busy in the early pm. summer hours were a lot different compared to the winter and fall hours, something that helped a lot. Though, it did stop Hunter from being able to go out and enjoy more of his time on his skateboard – it meant that the shop was going into business. Which was never the worst thing in the world.
He finished moping up an unfortunate blowout in the bathroom. Thank goodness the women’s and staff bathroom was a key lock. Lord only knew what it would look like if men were allowed access to both. After what felt like the fifth time washing his hands, Hunter returned to the front of the store.
There was a blonde, cute looking – mumbling about the difference. “Well, hate to tell yah, there’s a lot of difference,” he teased. “Welcome in. I take it this is your first time. What can I help you with?” Hunter offered.
HISTORY Brother of "Mimi", how he met Sarah is up to the player. Owns City Brick Skate Shop & Building Co. The rest is pretty open. You can find more info here!
sarah -- reid (nee --) pending
FACE Jessica Alba, Open
AGE 00/00/1979, 43
RELATION aunt, turned Mother
HISTORY History is open. The player can decide how she met Percy if she's made first.
-- -- reid
FACE open, male or female (can look related or be adopted)
AGE 00/00/2004, 18
RELATION cousin, turned sibling
HISTORY Was five when Hunter moved in with the family.
-- -- reid
FACE open, male or female (can look related or be adopted)
What was it about a cold, cold beer after a long day of concrete schmucking? Hunter didn’t know, but he didn’t mind either way. He was settled at the bar two blocks from home, wanting to sit for a minute before heading home. Hunter looked grungey, but he didn’t care. There were a lot of blue-collar people in here so he wasn’t sticking out.
Fingers tapped on the picnic table that was out in front, allowing him to people-watch. His eyes scanned over the folks. A lot of people dressed up for the summer, but a few were dressed for the wrong time of day. It was barely five o’clock and the streetwalker clothing was out and about already.
Hunter finished his beer and walked inside to escape some of the sun glare. There was a separate room for pinball machines, and he was happy to spend a few coins there. He headed to his favorite one, the Scooby doo one – but someone was already there. A young woman, maybe around his age? Hunter leaned against the wall, waiting for his turn. When he heard about the so-called failure, he couldn’t help but smile. “How long have you been battling it?” It wasn’t a rude question, just out of curiosity.
