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!.
Daz assessed the situation, watching with keen interest as the drama truly began to unfold, being careful to keep himself unseen for now as movement seemed to erupt from all sides. Cam was losing control of the situation, and fast. It wasn't going to take much for the hostages to tip the balance and take over. Stabbing Ben was bold, perhaps a little stupid - Ben would be able to identify him easily enough at such close quarters, unless Cam had been smart enough to stab him somewhere that would kill him before he gave a statement. He had also incited a bit of rebellion in the others for the movement, and Daz wasn't convinced the rest of the gang were following Cam's orders anymore - rather that they were doing whatever they pleased. Chaos sprang to mind.
Time to really ramp shit up, see how Cam handled having pressure from the outside. He pressed call on his phone, knowing Cam couldn't stop him from dialing in the police. He raised the phone to his lips and in a few low words, described the situation. Hanging up without giving them more than they needed, he smirked across at Cam and began to slink around the outside of the trouble, giving a few of the gang members a well needed shove if they came too close, a show of proof he was still on side of the hostages. It wasn't long before the sirens began to wail, coming closer by the second. He glanced across to Cam as if to say 'your move'.
Daz stayed sat where he was, continuing to observe. Outwardly, he gave nothing away - a stoic, unemotional face, which would give off the impression that he was being cautious about the situation, or was in shock, when internally he was the one that had orchestrated this entire thing, he was the reason this was happening. It was not the way he would have done things by a long shot, Cam was making a bit of a pig's ear on it, but he was getting to the point eventually. You're going to need to spill blood, boy. He thought, eyes narrowing very slightly at the way that a few of the customers began standing up to the challenge. The kid being the till had some balls - stupid balls, but all the same he hadn't crumpled. Another guy was standing up for them now too, and there was a woman sidling about as though she was holding onto a secret.
The key to this kind of success was having control of the situation - and then holding onto it. Cam was going to lose control very quickly. He was being ganged up on, and they didn't have his respect. Only a few seemed genuinely scared; the couple still sat at the table were clearly trying to stay out of the limelight. Cam should have utilised that, should have taken better hold of the captives. Taken all phones out of the equation, bundled them together, scared the shit out of them. It wouldn't matter too much if he got the money, but he was getting points for style here too, and handling. So far, he was on middle ground. Daz shifted in his seat, considering whether he should get involved and wind the others up, or if he should stick to where he was. He tilted his chin up, careful to keep his face in shadow as he looked from one face to another. Slowly, he went to stand, deciding he would make a few moves to see how Cam handled some extra pressure.
An eyebrow raised slightly at the shouting of the guys. He knew that Cam's inability or unwillingness to speak would create a problem at some point, it was partly another reason he had put him into control of this to see how he handled it. Threat did not just come from voice, but it was a lot less threatening to see someone scribble their words on a piece of paper to say 'stick 'em up'. He could allow the use of other's voices, but at some point Cam would need to use his. "Open the til-ll... money in the bag." Daz's expression darkened. It would suit the mood of the room, given the other people's expressions, and with his hood up and cap low it was hard to see his face, but that kind of opening line? Tsk, it just wouldn't do.
He took the moment to look around the room, catching the varying reactions of the customers. They ranged from shock and concern, to downright disbelief and one even seemed amused. What the fuck was this? So far, unimpressive and likely to fail. He watched the cashier hesitate - he wasn't going to give up the money, he didn't even seem like a difficult personality, but Cam wasn't being commanding enough. It was weak, and lackluster, and the boy was going to need to do something drastic to bring the attention of the room.
Since dragging Cameron into the gang, he had yet to really challenge him. He had warned the boy that he would have to pass trials in order to stay in the gang and earn a proper place, as low as that place would be. For now, he was still just ..a pledge if you will. He had a place to sleep and he got a share of the food, albeit not as much as the top dogs did, even had the opportunity to wash. But, he didn't get to stay if he wasn't going to earn his keep. Everyone had a part to play in Daz's gang, and they'd all had their challenges to get there. To be gifted a spot. He smirked slightly as he seated himself at the back of the cafe.
He had told the kid what the deal was. He'd done a couple of tasks so far, small fry things really, just to wet his whistle. This was his first proper test. A hold up. Daz didn't do them very often, it drew too much attention and it was rarely a good idea to do them in his own town. He was mostly an observer today, this was Cam's show and he was here to sit back and watch it unfold - to see how he handled everything, how well he planned it; to score his attempt. Daz knew how he would do it effectively, he'd done it before. Now was the time to observe and see what the kid was made of.
Daz smirked as he sat in his spot and watched the drama unfold. It took no time at all for them to find the offering, for them to gather like sheep, for them to mull over it like morons. He snorted and rolled his eyes, God he hated people, how mindless they were, how pathetic. They all clustered around the jumper like it was an alien, wondering how it had got there and whose it was. The owner and culprit of the jumper looks understandably confused as shit, he wasn't to know how it got there but Daz knew enough that the kid was a trouble maker - easy to pin it on. He gave a low chuckle and then shifted away. No need to watch anymore, he'd get bored soon enough, but they would be busy for hours. Now time to make everything worse. He wasn't done yet, not by a long shot.
Daz watched them all flitting about like idiots for a few more minutes before he took his chance. He pulled the cap down low over his face, but left his hood down - he didn't want to pull attention to himself too much. He would have put the jumper there earlier if given the chance, but it had been too quiet, and the yard were on edge enough, this timing made the most sense. He grabbed a piece of wood and strode out from behind the building with confidence, throwing the piece onto the pile for the bonfire and melting seamlessly into the rest of the crowd.
He ducked around a couple of people and went toward a section of burned barn that had less people around - no point being part of the cluster. He bent down, using his broad back to cover his hands as he acted as if he were searching through the rubble, looking for something, and then he quickly chucked the jumper in under the rubble. He had already trashed it, covering it with burns to make it look like part of the rest of the ruins - but not enough so the obvious blue colour and the giant Seven Oaks Stables logo on the back couldn't be missed. Smirking slightly, he kept his head low and picked up another piece of rafter, hefting it up and heading back to the bonfire. Chucking the wood onto the giant pile, he then ducked low and snuck back to behind his hiding spot, waiting for the excitement to begin. It shouldn't take them long to find the out of place jumper, and then they could start to put two and two together.
Daz watched the gathering from afar and smirked. He found it entertaining how idiotic people could be. He had no interest in the stable rivalry, he didn't even like horses, but he was often bored and looking for people to screw with - the two stables were already butting heads, it was amusing how little it took to send them truly at logger heads with each other. With the tension already rife, not one person had questioned whether the barn fire was started with someone outside of the yard, so convinced they were that it had to be one of the rivals - pathetic. Now, he just needed them to find the evidence he had 'accidentally' left behind to really point it toward the White's.
It wasn't even personal, he had no vendetta against them - he had plenty of others but neither the White's, nor the Clarke's had pissed him off, he just needed to take the heat away from himself. The police had been sniffing around him recently, and what better way to pull their attention of his situation than by sending it elsewhere; plus... well, entertaining wasn't it, to watch them all run around like headless chickens. He would wait out of sight for now, and intervene soon enough to help them find his parcel. Plus, he might start some other trouble whilst he was here - why not. Feeling smug, he returned to hiding behind the out building, giving them further time to find it before he went out there.
inflexible, cold, cruel, heartless, insincere, dishonest, self centered, dispassionate, violent, ruthless, street smart, versatile, can make just about whatever he needs with whatever materials he can find, merciless, psychotic, survivor, has a strong will power - will keep going no matter what, cunning
LIKES: manipulating people , being in charge , getting what he wants , night time , partying , coming up with plans , being feared , good food , guys and girls, he's not fussy DISLIKES: snow , heavy rain , people trying to manipulate him , people trying to overthrow him , people who cry , clingy girls , when he's not obeyed or listened to , getting hurt himself - it's inconvenient , going hungry STRENGTHS: physically intimidating and powerful , excellent planner and strategic , street smart , cunning , manipulative , versatile; can make anything out of few materials he has , a survivor WEAKNESSES: cold and heartless , cant always hold back on jumping into things , doesn't have a soft side , unchangeable FEARS: dying SECRETS: sometimes, deep deep down, he wonders what a family would be like
"NOW, I COULD USE SOMEONE LIKE YOU,"
STATUS IN SOCIETY: scum, essentially - street rat OCCUPATION: none, gang leader EXPERTISE: thieving - pick pocketing and shoplifting etc strategic - excellent planner ruthless - does what's needed to get the job done WEALTH: nothing PROUDEST MOMENT: none, he doesn't really feel pride MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT: maybe the time his brother almost killed him, he sees himself as stronger than raz so that was a bit of an embarrassment for him.
"SOMEONE WHO'LL KILL ON MY COMMAND"
FATHER(S): unknown MOTHER(S): unknown STEP-PARENT(S): none OTHER HALF: complex feelings for - CADEN ASHLEY HUNTER - 22 - 2nd in command/theif SIBLINGS:RILEY MORGAN PRICARD - 19 - engineering student/stable hand/ranch hand Jasmine 'Jaz' Pricard - wanted ad CHILDREN: father of Dean - 6 - with HAYDEN MAY JAMES Archer - 1 - stolen from RILEY MORGAN PRICARD and HANNAH ZOEY WELSH Katie - unborn as yet
Daz grew up on the streets that he now runs. He was born the eldest of two other siblings into a drug induced haze. He never really knew his parents, doesn't remember their names, he only has a vague memories of their hollow faces before they died. Both of them were low lifes, who barely had two pennies to rub together, and every cent they had went towards drugs and booze. How their mother popped out three kids and survived, Daz has no idea - nor does he care. She died not long after their sister was born, Jaz, and their father died not long after. Daz woke up shivering to find his father sat there unresponsive - having OD'd - leaving the eldest to care for his two siblings. He didn't have to, he could have left, but he was barely walking and had no idea about the world - he didn't even know how to feed himself properly. But Daz was savvy and resilient, and he did what he could to drag himself up. Once upon a time, he'd had feelings, and he'd given a shit about not wanting his siblings to die.
Those feeling shifted over the years, resentment, and the bitter, unfairness of life gave him a sour taste. He had to do awful things to survive, which started with stealing and ended with killing. He was too young when he first stuck someone with a knife, another kid trying to encroach on his run down corner of Brighton, where him and his siblings were bunkering down against winter. He'll never forget that hot rush of blood over his hands - no matter how much he scrubbed them after, they never felt clean again. After that, he learned to switch off his emotions, and he found that by doing so, it opened up whole new avenues to him - he stopped caring, stopped feeling, he did anything he needed to do to get what he wanted. He joined a gang in Brighton, and started working on status, beginning at the bottom and fighting his way to come out on top. They became a well known, feared gang on the seafront, until it went tits up. Daz challenged the leader, and he won - but the rest of the gang hated him, and despite the technicality of becoming their leader, they turned on him.
He butchered some of them, and left the others with memoirs of him, grabbing his siblings and running North to escape the carnage he'd left behind; the police had been on his tail, and he couldn't afford to get caught. He found himself in Hickstead, an interestingly sleepy town with plenty of fun to be had. Here, he found himself a home - an old abandoned warehouse, which he took as his by kicking out some old drugged up fools - and began his empire, building a new gang which would soon become as feared as he had been in Brighton.
THE TOP DOG: this is the guy in charge. he is the leader and what he says goes. he's been challenged for leadership in the past and he's never lost a fight. respect him and obey him or you'll be in deep shit. there is nobody that isn't expendable in his book and you'd better damn follow his lead.
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SECOND IN COMMAND: often the leaders closest friend or the one he'd trust most out of the gang. usually has the same train of thought as the leader and therefore they are able to work together as the best team. they've usually earned this place but sometimes it's challenged. they're the only one's who are able to advise the leader without getting gunned down.
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THIRD IN COMMAND: slightly higher respected than the others in the gang, not as trusted as second in command. they are generally used more to give out the orders the leader has given rather than to advise the leader or anything. they're kind of lackeys but they don't tend to do much dirty work, just get told to make sure the others do.
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SPIES: pretty obvious what these lot do. there's a lot of other gangs out there, and of course the police and such do occasionally come out of the wood work to try and take the gang down. the spies keep an eye on things outside the gang, possible threats, what other gangs may or may not be up to. they don't tend to do much heavy work.
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THE MUSCLE: these are the heavy guns. the muscular hulks that kind of act like body guards. most of them are all brawn and no brain. if the leader instructs them to send someone a message then they're the one's who do it. they're not the only one's to fight but they're the ones who first step forward to protect their gang members or send a message and the like.
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THE INTELLIGENT: they're the genuis'. these are the guy's who know everything in the book about electronics and calculations and such. if the leader asks them to trip an alarm or disable it then they can and will, easy peasy. some know how to make bullets or guns, some know how to hack computers. either way, these guys are usually rather well protected.
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THE SMOOTH-TALKERS the flirtatious pretty much. these guys are really much the same as the dogs bodies if it weren't for the power of their words. they're incredible at getting out of situations, they flirt or charm their way out of pretty much everything.
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THE GENERAL DOGS BODIES: these are the rest of them. those that don't fit in with the other categories. these guys are the one's tended to sent out to steal food or supplies. everyone's made to do tasks like that, but this group usually more so as they're not always use for much else.
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THE TRIAL-RUN'S these are those going for initiation. a lot won't make it, a lot of these people are just play things for the gang to make them do stupid things. some however will make it into the gang properly.
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THE LOST CAUSES: the dead. the run aways. the one's that lost a challenge of leadership and all those that have been turned away from the gang fit in here.
this abandoned premises is the claimed property of Daz and his gang - if you get caught sniffing round here, you're dead. if you're here looking for trouble, you've found it. his gang is deadly, does what it wants - lives outside the law. if you enter with intent on being part of the gang? bewear, he won't take in anyone and initiaion is tough. but still, if you proove yourself you might be a lucky one..and survive.
