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    The North

    Within the Northern vicinity of the city the wealthy gather behind meticulously trimmed hedges and high class victorian architecture. The streets are paved with stone, the buildings are made of brick, and the storefronts are brightly lit and inviting. In the North every establishment is made to cater to the rich and the wealthy. Many such places are used to the sometimes peculiar requests of the otherworldly but here there is little that money cannot buy - weather it be illegal or merely looking the other way. Vampires and Dark Hunters are often found upon these Northern streets, their long lives often contributing to their sizable wealth which allow them the luxuries that the North provides.

    What's You'll Find Here

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    St. Pancras Station

    owned by no one
    1 employees

    St. Pancras Station

    A historical train station renovated in to a luxury resort-style country club that unites Victorian elegance with contemporary style. Relax in the full-service spa featuring spa treatments, saunas, spa pools with hydro therapy & aqua bar, and relaxation lounges. The club offers many dining and entertainment options including Seven Sisters Lounge, Victoria Bistro, Barlow Gastropub and the formal St. Pancras restaurant as well as boutique shopping and event halls. Join The Chambers Club for a more exclusive entertainment experience.

    Owner no one

    Iórkæll Dværg

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    The VooDoo Room

    owned by no one
    0 employees

    The VooDoo Room

    The Voodoo Room is an award winning bar that aims to provide an eclectic and exotic atmosphere. The bar is filled with intoxicating liquors and a voodoo vibe to keep you coming back. Their mixologists meet the highest standards with our fantastical themed selections of cocktails and specials.

    Owner no one

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    The Witchery

    owned by Rowena Metcalf
    0 employees

    The Witchery

    Dark, gothic, and throughly theatrical, the Witchery is a place to indulge yourself with it's fabulously lavish suites. Whatever room you choose, you'll find glamor, indulgence and luxury. The suites you have to choose from are: the Vestry, Sempill, the Old Rectory, the Library, the Turret, Heriot, Guardsroom, Armory.

    Owner Rowena Metcalf

:: When We Were Young, Our Eyes Were Blue :: (Birdie)124.149.47.211Posted On March 08, 2015 at 1:54 PM by Tobias


“No…No, No.”

The shaggy locks of the man simply continue to shake- much to the continued distress of the sales assistant whom had been trying unsuccessfully for the past fifteen minutes to remove the deviant from her store after it had become entirely clear he held no desire to purchase an upmarket handbag. Dark eyes narrowed only further in determination at her continued harassment of him, a warning growl of sorts hitching within his throat as the woman dared to step slightly closer then she had been standing before, feet hurriedly stepping backwards in the wake of the sound that rolled within his throat. Arms moved to fold determinedly over his chest, the boy shifting only enough to seat himself upon the nearest leather couch designed for guests or long-suffering boyfriends- Tobias refusing entirely to be moved from this position despite the exasperation of the woman and concerned looks of several customers whom had become rather distraught at the thought of having to walk past the prickly Leopard in an effort to actually leave the store- many having taken to perusing the offered bags far longer then normal. Sir, we do not allow loitering in our store. Unless you intend to purchase something we really must ask you to leave.

“No.”

He hardly understands the garble of words he is offered, mind merely picking up upon those few select phrases he does, along with the tone of the vocals offered towards him to result in the belligerent answer the woman receives. He hardly holds interest in her, much less the store itself, his appearance within this particular location dominated entirely by the fact it is raining. He detests the water that falls from the sky, indeed on such occasions he remains content enough to stay in his room and in his bed, assured even Tetradore will not demand anything of him in such weather. It had merely been by chance that this afternoon shower had occurred, a similar chance having seen the boy take shelter in the nearest building- the unfortunate Prada handbag store, the bare footed, sodden, gangly creature entirely unwelcomed by the vast majority of the staff despite his desire to do little more then remain upon the leather couch- eyes trained upon the glass doors before him, waiting for the falling rain to cease before the voice of a new, male sales assistant saw Tobias head turn towards him. Sir, you can either leave quietly, buy something, or we can phone the police or have our security officer remove you from the premises.

For a moment the moppy haired boy is merely content to stare, attempting to process the words offered towards him by this new, more determined individual before one long limb deliberately rises, folding beneath the other until he sits cross-legged upon the couch in a show of further resilience against their determination to move him, lips parting to mutter beneath his breath in a display of insanity that only further seems to terrify the store staff, the small group moving off to hiss frantically beneath their breaths about how in the world they intended to move the ‘crazy’ boy without damaging either the store or its reputation. Can we call someone for you? This offer seems to distract his attention from the rain that hammers outside, fathomless dark eyes shifting to rest upon the youngest girl amongst the group of nervous individuals, the fear that radiates from them a truly intoxicating thing that momentarily seems to distract the animalistic creature.

“Birdie.”

It is a single uttered word that results in little more then blank looks from the people around him, long fingers moving to trace against the patterns in the couch he sits upon, the youngest girl speaking again now in a voice deliberately slow and gentle, the one so many use for individuals they believe to be afflicted with any sort of mental disability.Do you know Birdie’s number? Where does Birdie live? Such words do little aside from earn the woman a scowl, Tobias entirely oblivious to the notion of numbers, believing perhaps that the woman sought to know Birdie’s age, the only number to which he has ever heard the curly-haired woman refereed and one he hardly knows.

“At…the Ark. Birdie lives….at…..Ark.”

It is only after several more minutes of confusion that one member amongst this human congregation seems to recognise this name as the name of infamous battling arena that few humans ever dare stray into, another fifteen minutes given to scouring a phone book in search of a number for this Ark, a number that Tobias and perhaps even Tetradore surely did not know even existed for the lack of either ever having answered the phone, much less ever heard it ring amongst the noise within. Tobias continuing merely to stare out the window, one ear trained towards them all the same. Hello, yes, to whom am I speaking? Jack? Jackal? I….see. I require to speak to someone named Birdie. No I do not desire to bet on anything. I….oh…hello? Birdie is it? We have your……male companion in our store and he refuses to leave though will not say why. We are sensitive to his…condition and while our store never discriminates against it’s customers he is causing a disturbance and we think it best if his carer or friend would come to retrieve him otherwise we will be forced to call the police and we know how stressful that can be for…..the mentally…..disadvantaged.

“I….am not crazy!”

He is…different, perhaps and yet he has existed entirely long enough to understand that such words are hardly complimentary, a hiss of sorts tailored to the end of his words before a rather expensive handbag is launched in the man on the phones direction, erupting the store into chaos once more…..



madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push




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