Character Master-List

Owner (1/1)

Lara Sawyers

Barn Manager (1/1)

Responsible for the overall upkeep, alongside Lara.

Warner Ray Sinclair (temporary)

Senior Riders (7/10)

This includes work riders, competitive riders, etc. Please ask/specify if you have another role idea – anything goes!

Junior Riders (2/2)

Under-18. May gain some competition experience, but mostly work as grooms and work riders for the easier horses.

Barn Master-List

Riders are welcome to bring their own horses, but will be expected to ride a variety of mounts as the farm requires. Work riders will receive daily assignments, with brief outlines of what they may/may not to do on this horse, focal points, etc. For now, weekends are free, but as soon as show season picks up, Saturdays/Sundays are dedicated to competitions.

Barn A

Barn B

Barns are otherwise occupied by livery clients and Serenity-owned horses, though many stalls still stand empty.

Living Arrangements

Riders have arrived in a gradient rather than a set day, so rooms have yet to be fully assigned. Those already living on property have likely taken a room for themselves, but with the new arrivals, some need to double up. Riders are welcome to swap amongst themselves -- as long as the property rule of "no unnecessary drama" is obeyed.

1: Lara

2: Warner

3: Lennox & Lenore

4: Daniela & Wren

5: Jeongin & Sebastian

6: Yara

7: Atticus

In general, nothing is spoon-fed. Cooking is rotated through them, as are chores, and there's an expectation that everyone pulls their weight. (The junior riders get off a bit lighter, but with that comes a stricter curfew and more monitoring than the rest are subject to.) Breakfast is a make-it-yourself affair on the weekdays, though you'll likely bump into some other riders drinking their morning coffee, as is lunch. Dinner is the one time of day where everyone is required to be in one place at one time -- socialising after is encouraged but not enforced.

The daily routine varies, depending on what needs to be done. Briefings happen over breakfast (or over text for those who miss/skip that) with exercise assignments, odd jobs that need to get done, lesson schedules, etc.

Opening Premise: It's arrival day for most of the newcomers, though some may have trickled in over the last week. (That call is 100% up to you.) It's a cool day - while England is starting to think about summer, the autumn chill is still thick in the air. Overcast, but not rainy.

[ Lennox Hardy | 16 | Open ]

Head pressed against the truck window, Lennox's eyes were closed but she was very much awake. A weather report on the radio trickled through her ears, the shrill and peppy meteorologist yipping about how the summer sun was just on the horizon.

Lennox opened her eyes and got a nice view of the clouds overhead.

Yeah, right.

She shifted uneasily against the leather seat. It wasn't used to her, not like the worn cloth from her mother's 'charmingly rustic' (on its last life) sedan.

Speaking of, Lennox's mother had noticed her daughter's stirring and shot a question her way.

"Are you a hundred percent positive that you want to live on property?"

Her tone was level, more accepting of the idea. When Lennox suggested, no, insisted on it, she was baffled that her daughter would willingly relocate to an unfamiliar place. Far away from everything she knew. Living amongst total strangers, now that, was the strangest part about the whole thing.

Lennox huffed, about to turn away and pretend to be asleep so she didn't have to go over this again. Instead, she fixed her mother with a resolute stare and gave her verdict for what felt like the millionth time.

"Yes, mom, I want to do this. Have to do this. If I'm not gonna fully commit, how else will I show everyone that I changed?"

Lennox's mother nodded.

"You know you don't have to prove anything to me." Her gaze never left the road, but sincerity poured out from her voice. Heavy as the chill in the air. Except her tone was warm, not biting and cold.

"I know."

Silence falls. Lennox goes to peer out the window, stretching her neck to get a glimpse of the horse trailer, it was borrowed along with the truck. The barn manager at Lennox's old stable let them use it for the journey to Serenity.

A newfound worry sagged over her shoulders. The trailer was jostled with every bump in the road. Was Fortuna scared? How would she react when they got there?

Lennox loved that mare. Dearly. But goodness, it was hard to get a handle on her. Yes, that was what drew Lennox to her in the first place, but there were moments where she wished that Fortuna would just make things easy.

Then Lennox realized, it was moments of weakness where her mind went to this place of thinking. That was absolutely not allowed. Not for a second. The ability to manage her own horse was a mark of her skill as a rider.

And that wasn't going to come easily. She shouldn't expect it to.

With that, she locked her nerves in a box at the back of her head and threw away the key. Settling back against her seat, she closed her eyes and nodded off.

⚬──────────✧──────────⚬

Lennox jolted awake after being prodded in the arm. She blinked rapidly — once, twice, three times — until her vision was clear.

"We're pulling up right now," came her mother's voice. Not knowing where else to park, she veered the truck off the path and plopped it down onto a nice patch of grass. Out of everyone's way. Hopefully.

Lennox was out of the truck first, grabbing the suitcase lying at her feet beforehand. A particularly frigid wind ran past, and Lennox pulled her jumper closer against herself. It was a dry green, like the grass underfoot, and smelled like home.

She would've opted for something more professional, fussy about the chilly weather, made her wear something warm.

She scanned the property. Ahead was a boxy house currently being conquered by vines, its white paint peeling. She would've scoffed at that, but she was too busy snooping.

"We'll head there first," she nodded, because pointing was rude, and only spoke in certainties because she had little idea of what to do.

If her mother noticed, which she probably did, she didn't call Lennox out on it. Lennox led the way, and she followed. As usual.

Yara Silmaris | 21 | Mentions: Lennox, Kit

Her arrival to Serenity was not the type that demanded great attention. There were no flocks of photographers, no grooms rushing back and forth, as if perpetually late to something nobody else seemed to know existed. Here, and at least for now, she was just another young woman arriving at a yard – boots dusty from the journey, her curls escaping from where she had pinned them back.

Parking the horsebox on a grassy verge, she stepped out, pausing for a moment to admire the view. The green seemed to spread far away into the distance, speckled by small dots where other houses held residence. Overhead, the clouds shot past with the wind, creating small pools of light that appeared and faded at random intervals. On the other side, she spotted another girl, walking across the gravel towards a house, followed by who could be presumed to perhaps be her mother. Yara stood silent, watching her stride across for a moment before turning away as the sounds of shuffling in the horsebox caught her attention. Roxi. Undoubtedly making her opinion about the entire journey known.

Three Times a Lady.

A ridiculous name for a horse, who most days, behaved like she had been personally offended by the concept of patience. Yet, that was the very nature that drew Yara to her. That kind of almost wild, untamed soul, full of life, excitement – passionate!

Roxi was beautiful, unquestionably so. She had the kind of presence that made people glance back – the rich, copper coat that burned like flame in the sunlight, the expressive face, three neat socks. She carried herself with a natural arrogance, head high, eyes alert, as though the world existed merely for her inspection.

And perhaps, in her mind, it did. She was five - old enough to have opinions, and young enough to believe every single one of them was correct. Talented too. Difficult. Dramatic. The kind of mount where you almost wish they were duller, if only to make your own day easier.

And suddenly, the absent-minded thoughts were again, interrupted by the bright eye that fixed accusingly on Yara, as if she had personally orchestrated every bump, corner and traffic jam on the journey.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Yara murmured, climbing up the ramp, “You’re the one who insists on travelling like the world is ending every time we go above forty.” Roxi answered by blowing a long, theatrical sigh through her nostrils, warm air ruffling the loose curls. She reached instinctively for the mare’s forehead, hand disappearing into the thick, slightly unruly forelock.

For all her dramatics, Roxi had never been a horse that withdrew from affection. Quite the opposite. She demanded it with an almost embarrassing level of confidence, leaning into scratches with complete disregard for personal space, convinced the world revolved around her comfort. Which, admittedly, it often did.

"You're impossible," Yara said softly. The mare blinked, entirely unrepentant. As the warm air drifted into the horsebox, carrying with it the smell of fresh-cut grass, hay and horses – new horses – Roxi’s ears shot forward. The relaxed, sleepy traveller vanished, instantly replaced by the alert young mare whose curiosity consistently outweighed her common sense. Her nostrils widened as she sampled every unfamiliar smell, every distant whinny, every bird calling somewhere beyond the hedgerows. Her muscles quivered beneath her copper coat - not with fear exactly, but anticipation. She wanted to know everything, immediately.

"One thing at a time," she said quietly, slowly stepping out, "You don't have to inspect the entire county this afternoon." Roxi appeared to disagree. The moment her front hooves touched the ramp, she stretched her neck as far as physically possible, ears flicking from one direction to another with almost comical urgency. A tractor hummed somewhere in the distance. Several horses answered each other across adjoining paddocks. Swallows skimmed low over the fields before disappearing into the open-fronted barn.

Everything was new. Everything demanded investigation. For perhaps three whole seconds, everything remained blissfully uneventful. Then Roxi spotted a wheelbarrow.

She froze.

Not violently. Not dramatically enough for anyone unfamiliar with her to notice. Merely a subtle hesitation, one ear fixed rigidly towards the innocent green wheelbarrow sitting quietly against the stable wall, as though it had spent years plotting this exact encounter.

Yara followed her gaze.

"The terrifying wheelbarrow," she said gravely. "How ever shall we survive?"

The mare considered this. Then, apparently deciding the suspicious object was not currently advancing towards them, she released a deep breath and marched forward with all the exaggerated dignity of someone pretending they hadn't been worried in the first place. Yara laughed under her breath. It was impossible not to.

The rest of the walk was entirely uneventful, much to Yara’s personal relief. For once, Roxi appeared content to simply observe rather than challenge every unfamiliar object in her path. She continued to glance around with interest, ears flicking between sounds, but the initial intensity had faded into curiosity rather than suspicion. By the time they reached the stable block, she had apparently decided Serenity was acceptable.

Her stable was easy to find, already prepared for their arrival. Fresh bedding lined the floor, a hay net hung neatly in the corner, and cool water waited in a clean bucket. Everything had been thought through, which was something Yara appreciated more than she would probably ever admit.

Roxi, however, was far less interested in the effort that had gone into making her comfortable. The moment she spotted the hay, any previous concern about unfamiliar surroundings disappeared entirely. The mare walked straight over, buried her nose into the net, and began eating with the deep concentration of someone who had not been fed in days rather than someone who had finished breakfast that morning.

Yara leaned against the stable door, watching her. "Good to know where I stand." To that, Roxi did not even flick an ear. The only response was the steady sound of chewing.

There was something almost insulting about how quickly she had moved on from her dramatic arrival. Ten minutes ago, the entire world had apparently been filled with potential threats. Now, she had decided that none of them mattered because hay existed.

"Settling in already, I see." She turned to face the man standing a few steps away, a faint smile on his face as he looked towards the mare. “Roxi has her priorities straight, what can I say?”, his smile was somewhat infectious, and his visual admiration of Roxi brought the warm feeling of pride to her chest. She looked back at Roxi, who continued eating with complete peace, entirely unaware that she had apparently spent the last several minutes creating an international incident over a wheelbarrow.

"Need a hand with anything else? Tack room, feed room, finding where everything is?"

Yara hesitated for only a moment, usually used to sorting herself out. But only for a moment – this was a fresh start after all, and it couldn’t hurt to make some friends. "Actually," she admitted, "that would be helpful."

"Thought so," He nodded towards the yard, “Come on. I'll show you around."

Atticus “Kit” Thorne | 28 | Mentions: open.

Many people would describe leaving as … difficult, painful – some other synonyms of that. But compared to arriving, leaving was more structured, more … straightforward. You leave, at a specific time, from a specific place. You have everything packed, you say farewells. You leave.

Arriving was different.

Arriving meant standing somewhere new and admitting, even if only to yourself, that you did not entirely know what came next. And for Kit, that had never really been the case. Serenity was the first place where Kit had arrived without a plan.

The drive from Yorkshire had been long – long enough for him to know every bend in the road by the time he finally turned through the gates. The weight of uncertainty sitting heavier than the bags in the back of his car, he took a deep breath. For most of his life, the next step had already been decided. A qualification, a degree, a promotion – he always had a goal he worked towards.

This time, it was different. There would be no-one waiting for him, no hourly timetable.

Just Serenity.

He’d told everyone that this was temporary, a chance to figure out what he wanted to do instead of rushing into things. The problem was that he had never been good at doing nothing. And it was uncomfortable to realise, that without something needing him, he wasn’t entirely sure who he was.

The yard itself was quiet – not silent, but quiet. The smell of hay, and fresh-cut grass. The distant sound of hooves against cobbled floors. The scrape of a broom against concrete. Familiar sounds. And that comforted him more than he cared to let on.

The first few hours passed in the way most of his first hours anywhere tended to. He unpacked the essentials first: clothes, riding gear, toiletries. The process was methodical, everything placed into specific locations, clothes folded a certain way. Given the long journey, he felt it best to shower off the exhaustion, before Poppy was delivered.

---

When Poppy arrived, Kit has been long expecting her, watching the horsebox trundle up the long, winding drive. When the door opened, the gray Hanoverian stepped carefully down the ramp, shaking off the stiffness that had slowly crept into her bones. She paused at the base, looking around slowly, ears flicking back and forth, watchful, slightly wary.

Poppy never panicked, just simply watched and assessed, always thinking, always aware. Kit has been leaning against the side of the stable doorway, watching her survey Serenity like she had been appointed to inspect the entire property. Peeling himself off, he walked down to greet the driver.

“There she is.”

The mare’s ears flicked once, and she turned to face him. With one sentence, she was fine. The tension through her neck eased, and her attention shifted away from everything unfamiliar and towards him. It had always amazed him how much trust could exist between two living things without either of them needing to say anything. She had simply always been there, uncaring about ranks or qualifications or expectations. She only knew him.

He stepped forward, resting a hand against her shoulder.

“Long journey?”

Poppy blinked.

Kit glanced towards her. He laughed softly under his breath, fingers moving through the grey hair along her neck. For all her opinions, for all her stubbornness, for all the times she had tested his patience, Poppy had been the one constant through every version of his life. Feeling her presence beside him now, he felt relieved – at the very least, he had a friend in her, if not in anyone else.

---

That morning began like every other had. Up at seven, quick cold rinse, quick cup of tea. Early mornings were something he had long been used to, and something he had grown to like. Mostly for the quiet. There was something magical about the world before everyone else had fully woken up that he appreciated. The fog creeping away under the morning sun, the slight breeze carrying the sounds of the countryside to the doorstep when he sat with his mug. When everything was slow-paced, calm, weightless.

Once the day began, everything would become much faster-paced and more demanding. And that started with feeding Poppy, who had greeted him with equal parts love and judgement.

“You’re unbelievable,” he stated, opening the door. “I’m aware you know I’m the one who feeds you.”

The mare looked away, dramatically huffing until her feed had been tipped into her bucket. After that, the rest of the morning continued with a quiet efficiency. Water buckets checked, hay-nets filled and bedding tidied. There was some comfort in the repetition. So far, most of the riders had not yet arrived, so there had been little opportunity to make some friends. But it was his turn to make dinner tonight, so that had to be prepped for.

Going back inside the house, he made his way to the kitchen, scouring through cupboards to see what could be made. Cooking was a small talent of his – perhaps a career in another life. It was satisfying to create something out of virtually nothing, to make it tasty – and more importantly, it was something he enjoyed doing alone.

Pulling two chickens out of the freezer, he set them in warm water to defrost. Simultaneously, he began mixing a marinade, humming some song under his breath. Slowly, his mind slipped into flow state, his brow furrowed slightly, head tilted in concentration, as if that would help him find the secret ratio to the perfect sauce.

Had anyone walked in, they likely would have found the sight amusing. The tall man, humming away, entirely absorbed by the tasks of soaking the rice, cutting up carrots, setting the marinated fowls into the fridge. It wouldn’t be a grand meal by any stretch, but nice enough to make one feel at home.

The thought did cross his mind in the process that Poppy would need a turnout soon, so that was something to prioritize after this was over. The afternoon sun had warmed the yard by this point, the sharpness of the morning replaced with something softer. The jumper could be easily set to one side now.

In the process of walking into the stables, he noticed the new horseboxes that had arrived. New riders presumably. Seeing nobody immediately present, he continued into the first barn, catching sight of the young woman and her chestnut mare. The latter was of more interest to him – the striking color, the self-importance in her carriage. The kind of horse who probably had several opinions before breakfast.

Kit watched for a moment, amused despite himself. Then he approached, giving them enough space to not feel crowded.

“Settling in already, I see.”

His eyes flicked towards the mare, the faintest smile appearing.

[ Lennox Hardy | 16 | Open ]

Lennox stops short of the main house and doubles back around towards the trailer. What's thinking!? She's getting ahead of herself, she has to let Fortuna out before getting settled herself. That's probably what the other riders are doing, and she can't be the only person not to do the same.

Lennox is suffocatingly warm with embarrassment as she goes up to the trailer and hops in through the escape door, still hung-up over being so disoriented. But the only person who noticed was her mother and... she doesn't care, even took Lennox's suitcase for her.

Still, Lennox was wrapped up in herself and spooked when Fortuna's big, dark head was suddenly in her face. The reaction caused the mare's ears to go back and she started pawing at the ground.

"Sorry, girl..." Lennox breathed, stretching her hand out and running it over her cheek. Fortuna wasn't soothed much by this, but Lennox knew she was full of pent-up energy from the long ride over here. She just needed to walk it off.

But she had to be unloaded first. Lennox applied some pressure onto her lead rope, she didn't have to give a verbal cue because Fortuna shot back down the ramp, almost dragging her rider with her.

Winded, Lennox started walking Fortuna around, allowing her to let off steam. She starts off by tossing her head, snorting petulantly, maybe she stomps her hoof. It's all routine. Eventually she turns all quiet and cherubic with her big, soulful eyes. Until she gets bored. Or a scary paper bag flies by.

Then It's time to bring her to the barn, and Lennox has the barn arrangement memorized by heart, of course. Barn A, Stall 3. She's headed over there and already passing through the entrance, and if she sees the other riders, she makes no effort to be social. Busy, busy, busy, no time to chat.

She arrives at Fortuna's stall, which is towards the front of the barn and a good distance away from anyone else's horses. Good. Less chance for people to bother me.

Lennox undoes the latch on the stall door and leads Fortuna inside, shutting it behind them. She slips off her halter. The mare is already getting a lay of the land, sniffing every inch of the space. Taking in the scents of new horses. Getting overwhelmed. Prancing restlessly.

Lennox lays a hand on the mare's shoulder, grounding her. "It's okay. This is new for both of us, but we'll get through it. We have each other." Her voice is low, warm, and airy. The way a mother soothes her child.

Fortuna's breathing steadies. She's still on the move, but her muscles are less frantic. She's in explore mode.

Lennox took this as her cue to slip out. She left the barn and saw her mother. Oh, right, she was still here- uh. Oops. She was standing by the trailer.

Lennox jogs over to her and slows to a halt.

"Alright, um, we have to bring Fortuna's tack box inside. Maybe just- uh, put that back in the truck?" she waves in the direction of her suitcase. Sweat proliferates at the back of her neck. So unprepared. So humiliating.

Her mother gives a noncommittal bob of her shoulders. "Sure," and sets the luggage on the passenger's seat for the time being.

Back in the trailer again. Lennox is pulling out the tack box from a storage compartment and she nudges it down the ramp. Her mother is already there, ready to give her a hand. They're standing on both sides of the tack box.

They dig their hands under it, Lennox counts to three, and the tack box is airborne.

They shuffle to the barn, then to the tack room, and drop the box in an empty space along the wall.

Lennox and her mother walk back out to their vehicle, and Lennox grabs her suitcase.

"You're sure you aren't forgetting anything?" her mother joked good-naturedly.

Lennox smiled, squinty-eyed. Only her mother could talk to her like that.

"I'm sure."

"Then I'll get out of your hair." They embrace each other. "Call me if you need anything, okay? Promise?"

"I promise." She didn't argue. If she obliged, then maybe her mother would end the hug before anyone saw them.

Lennox's mother pats her back and withdraws. "I love you."

"Love you too."

Her mother gets in the truck and drives away. Lennox watches until she disappears down the road in a cloud of dust.

Now it's time to get settled in the main house, and she remembers that she's bunking with another girl. She rolls her eyes and makes her approach, entering through the front door.