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!.
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
He had a long day between managing four horses - the three Naomi had given him under her care and Pointer - and dealing with shit that just kept on seeming to come up. No matter how many times Sage explained to people that he was not a stablehand, but a groom - and the fact that there was a difference, nobody cared. They all wanted him to do something. Sage found it utterly annoying, especially when it came to certain clientele within the barn. Shockingly, he kept his mouth shut, if only to not get himself in trouble with Naomi.
What the young man hadn't been expecting was to nearly kill himself on a backpack in the tack room. What pissed him off even more was that the stumble had happened right in front of Emma Young and Sabine Radley, the latter of the girls flat out laughing at him while Emma, well, he wasn't sure what to make of the look on her face. Sage himself huffed, ignoring the girls as he grabbed the bag and whipped out of the tack room as fast as he could. Blue eyes took one look at the bag, and he had all the answers he needed as to who nearly killed him, but even worse, embarrassed him. It was dumb really, Sage wasn't even sure why he was so upset over it other than it had been a day.
Sage headed outside, getting a good view of the area before noticing a buckskin horse and rider meandering in the outdoor arena. Clutching the backpack, he stormed with purpose towards the two. He came up short at the fence, and while he didn't yell as to upset Sandman, the teenager had a tone, "Angel!" He called out, holding up her bag as evidence, "How many times do I have to tell you to put your bag into your locker?" Honestly, at this rate, Sage was beginning to think that the thirteen year old was starting to do it on purpose.
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
Sage Lavigne had watched his fellow Blue Arces rider, Cara, on the screen at their tent. She had done well enough on her first horse, and truth be told, he hoped her second horse would settle for 'well enough'. While the young man more or less got along with Maeve, Naomi's other protégé, he and Cara had no love for each other currently, and not only did he goade her whenever he can, Sage was a dick who loved to rub salt in the wound.
His time was approaching near now, and he got up and grabbed Orb from his temporary stall and lead him towards the cross country start area now. Swiftly, he hopped up and the dun stallion's head was high in the air. His ears were forward, but Sage could see the whites of those eyes, likely thinking about whether or not he wanted to be afraid of something. He whispered some sweet nothings to Orb now, sweet talking him like he would some girl to get what he wanted out of them before he broke their heart. A snort escaped warmblood, his neck starting to arch and his head lowering, submitting himself.
Orb was always an enigma to Sage. He gave him good pat before they walked up to the starting line. The horse was so athletic, so talented, and yet he was scared at everything. He was as only as brave as his rider, and that was only if he was willing to trust them. The bell chimed, and they were off into a gallop. As long as he could get Orb to take each jump without a refusal, Sage knew they would do very well, maybe even place. Speed was never an issue with the stallion, only fear. As they approached the log now, he could already feel Orb having some thoughts again. The young man added leg now, pushing Orb forward as he said, "Come on. Let's beat Cara and Fae."
Something seemed to click, and the stallion added a bit more speed to his gait as the two of them counted the strides and launched over. Sage kept on the leg pressure, as well as the brains, as the pair of them stormed through the cross country course now. Never minding the time, but always minded the jumps. At the final jump, a tractor, Sage let the warmblood loose, almost recklessly. No doubt Cara would snarl at him, maybe even Naomi, but in that moment, the young man didn't care. And neither did Orb, as he launched himself forward and tucked over the tractor. A daring and epic jump, with an exploding a clapping and cheering as they landed and crossed the finished line.
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.
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
The one who identified herself as Cara almost looked utterly loathed to deal with him. The frown on her face only made him laugh quietly and shake his head. Maeve, the blond, on the other hand appeared quite cheerful. But before Sage could say anything to either one of them, a warm voice carried over all three of them. He looked to see Naomi Campbell there with a professional looking clip board.
He listened to her rattle off the names of his assigned horses now: Bug, Orb, and Hawk. Ice blue eyes searched the small herd for them, but he stayed put as he clocked them out, unlike Maeve who already went to go speak to the horses as if they could understand here. Well. Sage couldn't judge, he was guilty of speaking to horses in private as well. As soon as Naomi left the three of them to their own devices, Sage smirked, "Cara's horses must think they're too good to hang out with ours."
Just by watching the three interact around the herd, he knew who he would be riding this morning: Orb. He looked a little skittish and willful compared to Bug and Hawk. While all three horses would likely have their own learning curves, Sage was already taking a bet with himself that Orb was the one who needed the most sorting out. Walking up, he pulled the lead lines hanging from around his neck and attached them to Bug and Hawk's halters now as he placed himself inbetween the two, "Feel free to lead the way, ladies."
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
Naomi Campbell gave a coy but warm smile, and the young man couldn't help but to feel like he had stumbled already in his interview. He figured this had just been a formality, and Sage had gotten the job, and yet, it was as if Naomi really wanted to know him. The young man shifted a little in his seat, a form of a fidget, as Sage mulled over her words, "I got into riding because of my parents. They put me into a saddle probably before I could walk." Something told him she heard all of that before too, "But I continued riding because I want to beat them."
And, that was partially the truth, he did want to beat his parents at their own sport. Sage wanted to surpass them, and take all of their awards and accomplishments away, he wanted to dance on their graves. But there were other parts that made up Sage Lavigne - softer, less spiteful parts - but the young man wasn't sure if he wanted to open those parts to Naomi Campbell just yet. She wasn't his godmother, she was a boss. Ice blue eyes stared at her for a moment, trying to find his reflection in her own eyes and any further insight to what she must see. Probably a talented, ego centric young rider.
He tried to not sigh at the thought. His gaze looked away from the older woman now, looking over the photos and pictures and bookshelves filled with more on the walls, "I think horses...make me who I truly am." His gaze flickered back, "At least...I think one might." But he still hadn't found that horse, whomever it might be. But a few horses he had ridden, one of his godmother's, just nearly felt like it.
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
While Sage had made a point to look over the file that had come with his new horse - after all, why should he trust a gift horse from his parents - nothing in that file had prepared him for what came next. At least Pointer had the decency to throw his head up and let out a loose shrill whinny as if Sage had done the most appalling thing in the world as an owner. Or fuck, maybe had. The young man avoided the dancing strides, and but he knew that look in the stallion's eyes, he had seen it on dozen of horses.
If he had been smart, he would have let go. But Sage could be stupid, and stubborn, and instead, he gripped the lead rope tight and side stepped as Pointer surged forward with the power of a future Olympic jumper. Sage followed suit, less gracefully though, as he was dragged. Grass, dirt, and stone ripped at him. Thank god he wore long sleeves today. His eye blue eyes watched the world go as a blur, and his eyes met Pointer's as the stallion's giant head fell from the weight of dragging him, "You. Mother. Fucker." He gritted through teeth, attempting to kick himself up as he pulled with all of his upper body strength up the lead rope, closer to Pointer's head.
Two could play difficult life being. Sage also might die, but fuck, he would die before letting some pompous horse think they could get the best of him by dragging him. Nobody said being nineteen made you bright. It was impressive Pointer was still managing to keep his head up as best as he could, but his neck had lowered just enough for Sage to dare to let one hand go of the lead rope and grip onto a huge chunk of mane. He kicked the ground again as best as he could going some 20 kph or faster, and hoisted himself to a ride of death.
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
Did she just walk past him without giving him the time of day? Sage just stared at the back of the girl's head and her horse, taking a long draw of his cigarettes'. Either he was loosing his charm or she was a real snob. Guess the latter should be a given, she was kinda cute. The young man puffed out smoke now, shaking his head some. The movement though, must have snagged her though, or perhaps her horse as her voice raised up now: "And what's his problem?"
Blue eyes flickered to the girl once more, getting a real good look at her now. Damn. She wasn't just kinda cute, she was...cute. And yet, Sage wasn't sure if he cared for the onslaught of words coming out of her mouth, "Or something." He finally responded, taking another drag. He should be kinder, less jerkish, but the young man couldn't help himself. He was still nursing his pride from Pointer getting the best of him, his side and arms certainly felt it, "I'm just telling you what the file says."
She looked so...little. Compared to him. Compared to her horse. But shit, did she have a rider's body, not to mention, that messy blond hair and blue eyes. Those eyes. He should just make a move, and yet, Sage was still feeling brutish: "So - who are you? Other than the stables know-it-all."
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
By the looks of it, Dublin had been well packed for the evening, and unlike Sage, looked like he belonged with the crowd, "Damn, you came up with a cover story?" The young man asked with a laugh. They may be close in age, but they clearly had different ways of going about things. Guess it shouldn't surprise him, they technically saw each other in action at the stables. Sage pushed off the iron fencing now, chucking his backpack over with a soft then before his blue eyes, "Well, we can't keep Great-Great Granny Esmeralda waiting, but I do prefer breaking a rule or two."
He leaned back against iron fencing again, his core tightening as he squatted down a bit before locking his hands and nodded to the young man to get over to him, "Here - I'll boost you over if you're too chicken to climb." Fighting words alright, and Sage said it all with his award winning smirk.
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
Sage Lavigne finished tightening the girth on his dressage saddle, the dun stallion letting loose a heaving sigh. Blue eyes rolled, "Yeah, Orb. You gotta work." The young man didn't really care of dressage - it had always been his least favorite part of eventing, but even he wasn't going to bitch and moan about it and risk his job with Naomi Campbell. He hardly got along with his fellow grooms, and he wasn't about to give either young woman a chance to sell him out if they had it in themselves to do so.
Once ready, Sage put his foot into the stirrup, stepped in close to Orb now, and swung himself up swiftly. Checking his reins, he played around with them, checking in with the dun stallion. It was the young sportshorse's first show after all, and truth be told, Orb could be a bit of a wuss sometimes. All in all though, Orb seemed fine. Perhaps he was saving his antics for the cross country course. They went to the warm up arena, limbering up, before it was their turn to for the main arena. They stepped in, walking down the center before stopping and saluting - all eyes were on him now, both admirer's and haters. A slight smirk couldn't help but to twitch at his lips, and with that, they moved forward.
Orb bent his neck, stretching out into that smooth dressage posture as he went to the working trot. Sage made sure that each transition was as smooth as possible, after all, it wasn't just Orb who could get knocked off points, it was the rider as well. They moved through their lead changes and paces, gliding over the grey sand. The circles were fine, the serpentine, well, Sage could feel that needed a little more work back at the barn. There was no doubt the judge's noticed it too, and soon after the thought crossed his mind, Orb tripped. Sage remained up right, squeezing the stallion forward as he caught his footing and swiftly recovered now. There went all of those points. Still, his face remained void of emotions.
They finished the course, stopping once more down center line to halt and salute. Once the claps came, only then did Sage relax. While it wasn't the best, the young man couldn't fault Orb. All things considered, it was a good ride for a first show. He learned forward and patted the dun stallion, as they walked out the arena now to go join the rest of the Blue Arces riders and to cool down.
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
"Naomi," Sage said out loud, rolling the name off of his tongue and lips, "I think I can handle that." Still, he hovered in the doorway of her office, blue eyes staring at the woman before him. She was warm and welcoming, a far cry from his parents. It was strange, given that Naomi Clarke was on same footing as them, but the young man supposed that even in the Equestrian World, there were high ranking people who weren't complete snobs. As Naomi motioned to the two guest chairs in front of her desk, Sage supposed he should probably step inside her domain now.
He crossed the threshold, and when he wasn't struck by lightening, Sage continued his way to those chairs. As he slid into them silently, Naomi Clarke then asked the deadliest question known to man: "And tell me a bit about yourself." Blue eyes locked with hers, how he hated this question. It was always a trap. The young man stalled, leaning back in his chair and shifting, as if he were attempting to get comfortable, when really he was trying to figure out the best way at not coming off as a dick. Unfortunately, Sage Lavigne didn't know how to do that, so he went for simple, "I can stay in the saddle and ride whatever you throw at me, ma'am," he managed now, "Without complaining, of course." Not to her face at least.
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
Sage was really beginning to wonder why this horse's file had been all over the place. Was there something he was missing here? There couldn't be given that he read over the file three times. The guy who delivered him to Blue Arces told him to watch out and that the stallion was a dick, and yet, he was walking like a gentleman. He wasn't sure on what to think. Still, Sage doubted that his parents got him the perfect horse. The young man knew better than to suspect that.
He passed his worries off for now. There was no point in trying to figure out what might go wrong, he just had to wait for something to go wrong. As they stepped outside into the sunlight, he could hear Pointer beside him give a huff of content, "Huh. They really kept you cooped up then, didn't they?" Sage made a mental note to talk to the stablehands about that. Perhaps the stallion was best kept on his own in the pasture verses the stall when he wasn't specifically with Sage himself and the grass was fine. He had been lost in his thoughts, and that content allowed him to grow lax. The stallion's head lowered, walking nicely until.
Sage felt a slight pull and resistance. Blue eyes looked to Pointer now, who faltered and halted, now trying to get a patch of grass rather than walk forward. The young man frowned, let a sharp whistle, and pulled, unware of the surprise that was instore for him that came in the package of 1100 lb stallion by the name of Pointer.
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
Sage Lavigne had been at the bar last night when he got the call - be at Blue Arces early, he was testing out new horses with two other girls. By other girls, the young man had no doubt that his boss meant Maeve O'Doyle and Cara Kitchi. He had yet to formally meet them, he was just that new to the barn and work. While Sage politely agreed over the phone, he groused at the idea of working with others has he had closed out his tab and went home to sleep.
With the morning upon him though, the young man could do nothing but meet his destiny, or perhaps, competition. He was, however, mildly excited about the horses. Sage was curious about the young horses that Naomi Clarke would pull for competition growth and miles. As he pulled into the parking lot now, blue eyes clocked one car. So, he wasn't the first one. Grabbing his bag with his helmet and his protection vest, Sage headed for the barn now - not bothering to lock his car and promptly left the keys tucked away in the shade flap.
He headed inside and made a beeline to the indoor arena where he was greeted by a line of horses - an array of colorful sporthorses if one would. But they weren't the only living beings in the barn, "Ah. Guess I'm the one fashionably late," Sage smirked now, his blue eyes looking between the two young woman from beneath his mop of brunette hair, "I take one of you is Cara and the other is Maeve?"
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
Rich people were so weird. Maybe that was hypocritical coming from Sage Lavigne, son of two ranked equestrians. But considering he had been chucked away like the troublemaker he had been, and still was to this day, the young man thought he had every right to look at the rich through the lens of an outsider. Speaking of trouble, he hoped he didn't find any tonight, but sometimes, it just had a habit of finding him. It's not that the young man minded, but it could be irritable all the same. It usually came in the form of girls, and their boyfriends, who expected him to fight fair, and no doubt, this graveyard movie night would be littered with them.
Sage couldn't even remember how he heard about this event, it had been exclusive. Probably from some of the snobby riders at Blue Arces. Required tickets and a list and everything, that's why he was hanging out by the back, and would be jumping the fence - six pack and all - to get inside. But he had company tonight, so Sage lingered around, looking as nonchalant as ever waiting for his coworker, maybe it was friend, to arrive. Dusk was settling across Willow Bridge City and its graveyard, no doubt the movie would play when it was dark, but Sage didn't really care. He was more about the thrill of getting into somewhere that he didn't belong verses watching something that the rich and fancy deemed atmospheric for a moonlight night amongst the tomb stones. Right when he pondered if he was going to need a smoke did his blue eyes catch a familiar figure, "And here I thought you were going to chicken out on me." Sage said with a smirk now, finding himself staring at the one and only Dublin de Brun.
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
Sage wasn't sure what he had been expecting when he had opened up the stall door fully - the stallion bolting maybe, trying to bum rush him out given how he had been cooped up. Instead, the opposite appeared to happen. Pointer took one or two steps out and stopped, before leveling him with a look that seemed to say: What the fuck are you doing boy? Give me a signal. Blue eyes blinked, staring at those mismatched eyes, "Maybe you're not as terrible as they laid you out to be." Humans were never misunderstood, but animals were all the time, "Alright, let's see where we can go so you can show me your stuff."
He made sure to give some slack in the lead, the perfect 'j' so to say, and his hand rested a good few inches under Pointer's mouth to make sure the stallion didn't feel crowded - after all, he already had a stallion chain on. Sage led the way now, first heading to the indoor arena. Besides him, Pointer seemed to be walking just fine. Fine to the point where the young man almost felt like it might be safe to let his guard down, but he also knew that doing that may also be a mistake within itself. Unfortunately, the indoor arena was taken, which meant that they would have to walk to the lunge pen. If memory served him correct, they would be walking right by the pastures. Thankfully, given it was a schooling day, everyone was inside and not outside, not even the boarders, so walking by the pastures shouldn't be the end of the world.
"Guess we're going outside then," he said to the horse, mainly talking to Pointer as if he were a human who could understand his words. Some people thought that talking to their horses was silly, but Sage ultimately thought it was a good bonding tool even if he did sound stupid to someone listening in. He lead Pointer out through the double doors at the back of the barn and into the sunlight with the pastures in view. His steely blue gaze was locked ahead though, looking to the path towards the round pen. Little did he know that his morning was about to get incredibly interesting.
I’d always thought I was above being fascinated by anyone but myself.
Sage Lavigne stared out at the pastures, leaning up against the outside wall of one of the barns while blue eyes rested on a small field with a sole black stallion sitting in it. This morning, had not gone as planned, with taking his new horse out. The young man was rather impressed that he had gotten out of the situation with all of his limbs in tact. Looks like his new job wasn't going to be the only thing that would come with a learning curve, Pointer, his fucking horse, required a learning curve too. No wonder his parents had gifted him the stallion.
A heaving sigh escaped Sage now at the thought, as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a box of smokes. He tapped it a few times against the palm of his head, still watching Pointer from across the way. The black stallion looked like he had settled out after this antics this morning between the indoor arena and the hallways of the barn, eating up the spring air and ripping into the grass at his heart's content. He looked like the epitome of calm, unlike how he had been with Sage. No matter though. He'll figure Pointer out like any other horse he had sat on. Despite the antics and excitement, even Sage could tell that he had a potentially good, if not great, prospect on his hands.
Popping the box lid now, he slid out a cigarettes' and put it into his mouth. Next followed his lighter, as he cupped along the end of the cancer stick, lighting it up and taking an deep inhale before exhaling out the smoke. His nerves had long been steadied since talking to Naomi this morning, and dealing with his horse, but that didn't stop him from smoking. He earned it, and it was only 10 am. Sage was half way through his cancer stick now when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye - a girl, leading a horse. While earlier, Sage had left a note on the pasture with Pointer that nobody should put their horse in their unless they wanted a huge vet bill, he decided to just warn her ahead of time, "Hey. Don't put your horse in the field with the black horse with a blaze." Little did he know that his interaction with her wouldn't end there.
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