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 had been a while since Dallas had done a freestyle to dressage, but he had always enjoyed doing them in the past and was keen to try another whilst the option existed. He figured Aftershock would enjoy the pump of something loud and upbeat, so ACDC struck a cord with Dallas when he chose his song. They'd done a few practices to it, and he'd tried to make it relatively uncomplicated so that the test flowed well. It was a nice change for him to get to pick his own moves, and it allowed him to go with those that would best show off his horse, and keep Aftershock's ever busy brain occupied. He'd watched some of the others go before him, smiling at the ingeniousness of their tests and song choices - of course, he rolled his eyes' at Leo, that lad was quite the fool sometimes.
Aftershock felt great as they warmed up, and heading in the ring he felt surprisingly focused and on the ball. As they progressed through their test, the gelding's attention drifted a little, and Dallas had to work to bring him back onto the job properly, giving and taking with the reins gently to encourage him to soften properly again. He knew they'd have lost some points at the couple of delayed transitions and the slight hollowing, but overall he was pleased with the gelding as they finished their test. Letting him out on a long rein and giving him a good pat of thanks.
Dallas was impressed with the young mare, so far she'd behaved very well for her age and her lack of experience, and he was pleased with how she had gone in the warm up. She seemed focused, and though she felt a little nervous under saddle and unsure, she took direction from her rider and moved on as she was instructed. She had always been a sweet mare, though anxious, but he felt with a confident rider who would stick with her through the years, she would flourish. He didn't want to keep her, she wasn't quite for him, but he liked her attitude.
Settled her as she gave one of the plants a side eyed look, he turned up the centre line feeling the mare panic a little, feeling the change in environment. Dallas sat quietly, keeping her together and closing her legs around her in reassurance. As they went through the movements, he felt her slowly begin to relax - partly that she was tiring now, she was young and not as fit as his older horses, and also now that she felt confident in what she was doing. She almost dropped out of canter early, but he kept her just enough together, and she resisted him at times out of worry, but he felt they'd done a decent test once they'd finished and given the final salute. He gave her a good pat and let her walk out on a long rein.
He felt the arm squeeze but didn't respond, there was no need to - she shouldn't have to thank him for politeness. It was rude of the host for not having asked for Cara's name, it was bad enough she hadn't known it, given that Dallas had marked who his guest would be - as required - in advance. He pursed his lips in displeasure, these were the kind of things that annoyed him; so desperate for his money that they zero'd in on the one with the cash like vultures. He put it out of mind for now, he had brought Cara to have a better time, not a grumpier one - not that he was blaming her in any way for this - but at least they had been left to their own devices for a bit.
”I keep up with some of the social dancing but I haven't had time to go in Hickstead. And,” Dallas glanced to her curiously, wondering what she was going to say but hesitant to. He hoped their friendship was still intact enough that she would still open up to him in that, still trust him to understand her. He took a sip of his water, allowing her time to think about it. ”And I haven't had a good partner in years.” He raised a brow at that, both were understandable reasons, and he thought easier to fix than she might think. He tilted his head slightly, "you always found time before.." he wasn't accusational, just an observation. "Are you sure that's the real reason? You're not putting it off?" He could get why, he knew how it felt to finally have the freedom of choice, sometimes you didn't want to choose it at all, until you feel like you loved it again, or not at all. "I would offer, but I am a terrible dancer." He added with a wink. He could do a slow step for a formal dance floor but that was about it, and he hated it.
He noticed her look at the champagne and felt a stab of guilt. Just because he wouldn't indulge didn't mean she should suffer this event sober. "Sorry, feel free to partake." He promised, he could cope with seeing her drink, he had a handle on things now and he wouldn't tip over the egde, not with Cara. ”Fine, you win - it was way less than ten minutes. So, victor, what do you want as a reward?” He hmmmed as he thought on it, contemplating all the ways that he could lord it over his friend, chuckling a little. "I want you to make an outrageous bid, on the worst piece of art you see tonight" before she could panic, he smiled, "I'll be funding the bid. Call it my charitable contribution to whatever cause it is tonight." That would keep people happy, and he would hang the crap up in his hallway just for the sake of it. He liked art with a story.
”Oh please, my Michael Jackson impersonation was spot on,” Dallas gave an unattractive snort and roll of his eyes. "That's what I let you believe. Sometimes I'm nice." he teased, though he'd seen both better and worse impersonations, so there was that. He was well aware of the young woman's talent in that area, having seen it multiple times over the years as children. "Do you still dance?" he asked curiosily, wondering if she'd given it up with less pressure from her mother or whether that pressure still remained. It was part of their unspoken understanding in each other, the bullshit of parental pressure and all the shit that came with it, like the fact he still loved and wanted to make his parents proud as well as push back and make it on his own. How fucked up was that.
A hand extended to him and he took it gently, offering Cara as much support as she needed to exit the car. God knew how women could strut around in heels like that without tottering over. He let her dictate the pace but there was no hurry to get inside other than to escape the chill of the wintry night air. It was a lovely building and in the right mood and circumstances he could appreciate architecture, but for now he wasn't interested. It was just another grand building used in attempt to con Dallas out of a grand sum of money.
A light hand on her back, Dallas gave a careful steer in the right direction as they entered, giving their names to the man in power and seeing the spark in his eyes as he realised which guest of honour this one was. Dallas just about refrained from rolling his own. An offer to take their jackets and he helped Cara out of hers before his own. Let nobody ever say Dallas did not have the manners of a gentleman. It was one of the first lessons his mother had instilled in him.
”How long do you think before the first beggar comes to you for money?” he hooked his arm around hers and sighed quietly. ’ll bet you anything, it will be less than 10 minutes.” Dallas watched an older woman clack toward them in stilettos and a sleek black number, a grin already fixed on her face. Wonderful, he came the special treatment. "I'd say less than that. In five...four...three..." his murmur trailed off as the woman approached to hearing distance. "Mr wood, wonderful to see you, thank you for coming." as it he could turn down the invite without being a dick or sending a considerable amount of money to apologise for his absence. "Would you and your guest like to follow me this way, please." Dallas gave a slight frown. "Miss Jones" he reprimanded, for the woman not even having asked of Cara on his arm. The woman took a moment, blinking comically and then began to profusely apologise. Dallas waved it off and offered Cara a seat first as their designated table before taking his own. He waved a hand at the champagne to signal no and only breathed properly once the host had buggered off. "Urgh I hate it." He complained.
”Just a wee bit but I promise not to tell anyone,” Dallas shot her a look, "I'll hold you to that," He promised, in case she had second thoughts and believed it might be amusing to put him on the spot at some point. If he was mean - or younger probably - he likely would have done it to her, put her on the spot infront of a group of the event organisers and watch her try to wiggle her way out of it, or pull him into the hole with her - that's what Cara would do. He didn't act like that anymore, even if the thought was amusing, but he had a reputation here to uphold and he couldn't afford to fuck it up. Yeah sure, he had the 'rents back home in cow country, but he didn't want to go back, especially not with tail between legs because he had fucked things up for himself here and no longer had any clients.
Dallas took a left and then a right, realising that they were almost there already; the journey had taken no time at all. Ignoring the awkward quiet for a moment, at least it passed quickly. He figured they'd have to talk about that particular elephant at some point, but now wasn't the time. Not just before they were about to go to an important charity event and play nice with the beggars. ”Of course,” Dallas caught her gaze for a moment, before returning his eyes to the road, his smile widening a little to hear her chuckle. ”I don't even remember why we found it funny but the amount of trouble I got into thanks to this song and you. Do you know how many laps your dad made me run because I couldn't stop laughing?” He laughed at that, gently waving off her poking ministrations.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Dallas teased, pulling up into the parking spot out the front of the hotel - the valet began to walk towards them. "I have no idea why it was funny, but your dance moves certainly made it worse," He reminded her, turning off the engine. "Are you ready?" He asked as he collected his coat from behind his car and got out the car door. He made sure to head round to Cara's side to quickly pop open hers, and handed over the keys to the valet with a quick 'thanks'.
"Ooo, I love it when you act so mysterious," He gave a little chuckle, though in all honesty he should probably remind himself before they showed up at the door and he made a fool out of then both. "It's probably a bit shit of me not to know," but over the years he couldn't help but be a little cynical. These events might be flash and no expense spared, but it was all because they wanted money. Money money money - all things came down to it. If he wasn't rich, he wouldn't receive an invite, they wined him and dined him and kissed his ass to the point of chaffing just so they could hope to squeeze a few more thousands out of him when he already did his due-diligence and paid out plenty to charity. He couldn't send it all, he'd have nothing left to donate. He was tempted to boop her scrunched nose, but he figured she'd probably get pissy at him for messing with her make up, so he left off.
He checked his mirrors and then pulled away carefully into traffic. "I do hope they have those avant-garde paintings - they make for the best entertainment, especially when they have no meaning," Dallas glanced at Cara with a half smile, already glad that he'd brought her with him this time - better than sitting moodily at the back, staring at the alcohol he could not longer have. "There'll be plenty of them, all with a ridiculous price tag." He rolled his eyes. His house was also full of them, thanks to interior designers that loved his no expense spared, no limits gold credit card. "I heard that one of the up and coming artists in Austria painted a blob with three colors. No one could guess what it was but when he said the painting's name, one lady fainted He called it unrequited desires of a virgin. Can you believe it?" He caught her look and shifted a little in his seat, shaking his head. "Sounds about as disappointing as a virgin's first time normally is, so I guess he's halfway right." He commented, then regretted his words given current company and past experiences.
Pressing the button on the steering wheel to move the music along, one of his favourites - one that him and Cara used to enjoy as kids - came up and he couldn't help but glance at Cara with a small smile. "Remember this one?" He asked, turning left onto the motorway to head out of town. The event wasn't far, but it was in a place a little fancier than Hickstead and would take about twenty minutes drive. Plenty of time to try and cheer him up about doing this event before they got there.
Dallas wasn't so sure this was his best idea, which seemed mean given that this was his friend, his childhood friend who he had always loved dearly, just in confusing ways. It was just that, he didn't know if this was going to merge lines a little, and he didn't feel that was fair, or quite right just now. The last thing he wanted to do was blur this situation, given it had been so long without each other in their lives, and how good it felt to be back to how they once were. He didn't want to spoil that, was concerned about spoiling it, and he wondered vaguely if inviting Cara to this party had been a mistake and would threaten everything.
He'd been going to functions all his life, trussed up in a penguin suit as soon as he was old enough to walk, and paraded from charity dinner to charity dinner like a show pony. He'd left America barely an adult, hoping he was leaving that kind of shit behind him, but even now he couldn't quite escape the name and all it came with. He'd come to dislike the dinners a little less, they had decent alcohol and usually above average food, but he wasn't much for dancing or schmoozing the folks to spend their money, he also didn't enjoy the ass kissing from others encouraging him to spend a pretty penny. But still he spent it, causing all the more brown nosing because of it. It was for charity, how could he sit there and not reach into his pockets?
At least he should have a decent laugh with Cara looking gorgeous on his arm. He'd never taken her to an event before, he hadn't been old enough to be given a plus one. He hadn't used to like going on his own, as it tended to encourage vultures circling in the hopes he might pick them for the night, or depending on their age, they'd be trying to set him up with daughters or grand-daughters - always beautiful and intelligent and a perfect match. He might have been a cocky shit as a young twenty year old, and a bit of a womaniser, but he'd always been sure to take a woman on his arm to fundraisers, even if it was just for the night. For a while, he had taken Harlow, and since her, nobody at all.
He shot off a quick text to Cara once he'd pulled up out the front and parked. He took a moment to put on some music he liked whilst he waited - knowing how long some women tended to take to get their shit together. ”It's good to see you tonight, Wood. Now remind me again, what is this event we're going to?” Dallas rolled his eyes but smiled all the same as he put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. "Good to see you too, you look lovely," Because you always made sure to compliment a woman. "This is an art auction for underprivileged kids... or it might be for cancer? Who knows." He shrugged, it was all the same in the end.
He barely had to bother to try and avoid her swat, it was weak and pathetic, not nearly as bad as the times she truly meant it. She had a heavy hand when she needed to, which he was happy to know when it came to looking after herself but was less impressed when it was him on the receiving end; though, she didn't pack quite the punch she might have thought she did. He just didn't tell her that. "it's not a bitch fit." Dallas raised a brow and gave her a look that said he didn't believe her. "Uh huh, sure it's not.." He said, glancing down as she released the station to grab the front of his jacket. He reached up to gently pry her fingers open and to take her hand instead, keeping her upright without her strangling him with his collar. "they're withholding the good stuff anyway." He gave a small chuckle, "They always do, you have to be almost dying to get the proper good shit." He'd had enough trips to the hospital to know from his own experiences.
"i didn't call you." Dallas would have put a hand to his heart if his hands weren't busy holding his sister - both to keep her from hitting the deck and to also keep her from decking the help. "Well observed, glad you're memory is in working order then," he said evenly, knowing she must have had some bump to the head to behave in this way. "Come on, back to bed sis. The hospital called because they needed to let someone know you were here - whether you like it or not." He added warningly, having a feeling she was about to argue with him. He saw the falter and the wince and he carefully adjusted his hold to try and help her out. "i just want my clothes." He nodded and gave her a kind smile, "Alright, well I can fix that. But back to bed first or I'll refuse." And he tried to steer her in the right direction.
Dallas had been asleep when he'd gotten the call. Ironically, he'd fallen asleep on the sofa, a glass in his hand, his neck drooping at an uncomfortable angle that immediately gave him a crick when he was woken by the piercing ring of his phone. He jerked, spilling the soda water on the sofa and then cursing for it and trying to wipe it off with a clumsy hand, still half asleep. He'd been tempted to drink earlier, more than just the one beer he allowed himself these days, and the temptation had lulled at him enough that he'd gone and poured every alcohol he'd had down the sink to hold off. It wouldn't have stopped him going out to the bar, or calling something in - he had money, it wasn't hard to pay someone to bring you something you wanted in the middle of the night - but being tired had stopped him. Settling down on the sofa and allowing himself to be distracted by a complicated film until the movie had become a blur and he'd drifted off. He usually liked to get himself to bed before he fell asleep, it was always important to be balanced in riding, and falling asleep crooked on the couch would not to wonders for his muscles.
The phone had continued to ring as he put the glass aside and patted the cushions for it. As always, his heart leapt into his mouth a little to know who it was. There were only a limited amount of people who would call him at this time, and there was always that tiny ridiculous twinge that it might be his ex, calling to tell him she was okay, what had happened, that she was sorry, that she was coming back for him. He thought less about it these days though, hoped less for it - didn't want her to come back. Mostly, his thoughts about her now were just what had happened to her, but even those were less. Now he fumbled for the phone and managed to press answer, slapping it to his ear with a rough, "Hello?" He hadn't expected it to be the hospital, and he'd become a whirlwind of motion, luckily still dressed in jeans and a dirty shirt where he'd drifted off before his shower, he donned a jacket, grabbed his keys from the hook and broke some speed limits. Thank God he hadn't been drinking. This was exactly the reason he didn't want to do it anymore.
"don't touch me. i want to leave so go find my clothes." He arrived just in time for the main show and he raised a brow as he approached the scene, giving a small chuckle. "Awe, come on now sis, that's enough of the bitch fitting." He said, not unkindly, as he stepped in to take over from the nurse. "Come on, back to bed you cripple, and behave yourself or next time the nurses might not be so kind of the pain med's for you.. and you might really want them." He warned. Sure, he got where she was coming from, but he also needed her to rest and make sure she was okay.. and also not batter one of the nurses. His bank balance had suffered greatly before to get her out of trouble, he much preferred the idea of not having to do that anymore.
Keep fighting over your preferred age group, I'm sticking to four legs and a tail - they can't talk back and when you've had enough you lock them up and go home. Easy!
And here I thought you were just going to say 'women are' in general. That will certainly help you - I always believe the best thing to do is ride as much as you can, and a variety of horses too.
Just about persistence and practice. 
