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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

ice, ice baby124.168.7.208Posted On August 30, 2015 at 7:36 PM by Rixon Leifsson

 photo 1638b989-d1ad-4590-8c4d-4d16fc4716cb_zps770e0cc5.jpg

It had been rather awhile since he had met anyone so inclined to the pleasantries of simple conversation, the girl seeming to display a genuine curiosity that did not hold beneath it some alter motive to achieve something from him and as such he finds her endearing in some manner of speaking. She reminded him perhaps, of a slightly more capable Claire, her look similar to that of his foxish companion as well and indeed perhaps for more the one reason he was content enough to tolerate her company- at least for now. The equine Alpha after all, was hardly known for his tolerable nature, he rarely suffered fools, rarely suffered anyone he found unworthy of his time and as such the woman was perhaps offered the privilege of it now if only for the curiosity he seems to find within her. The manner in which she asks further upon his heritage sees his attention incline briefly back towards her, the barest hint of the violet gaze beneath meeting the green of her own before he speaks once more with that seem deliberate, frosted calm that seems to clip each word, as if each sentence is punctuated by some deeper after thought and indeed perhaps it was. He was far more inclined to thought, after all, then wasted words and yet for now he is content to indulge her curiosity. She is correct after all, he had grown wholly tired of lazy American or English tongues attempting to work there way around the more complex syllables of his name when spoken in his own tongue. The thought in itself sees a simper catch upon his lip- faded and brief as always.

“It offers my ears some reprieve from their attempts, yes. I am Icelandic. I was born in the city of Reykjavik, but I lived most of my life outside it in Grindavik. It is the most…..stunning of countries, the land goes on for miles and if it is not made of ice it is made of fire. It is hostile but beautiful.”

He refuses to allow any sense of longing to truly exist within his tone, he had turned his back upon his homeland some years ago now, he could hardly go back, at least not for a few more years still until things had….changed and as such he sees no point in dwelling upon what cannot be changed. His head shakes softly, as if to dismiss the thoughts he has no care to think on- offering nothing further in regards to a past he has no desire to revisit- even if this land, this country, would never come close to comparing to his own in all it’s rugged, untameable glory. This city was…tame by comparison, the park the closest he truly came to any open space and perhaps the equine within him failed to take any true solace in that. The sudden storm however, seemed to remove his thoughts entirely from his own contemplation, this display of the woman’s powers only further seeming to earn his intrigue as he finds a seat for himself within the warmth of the café as the rain outside hammers against roof and window in a fashion he finds soothing perhaps- if only for the chill it brings to the air. How….useful this girl could be, his mind already considering the possibilities of her skills as he inquires further upon them, the question seemingly innocent perhaps though there is little Frost truly does without cause. The man far more cunning then others would believe. The information she offers is given willingly, freely, the man content to offer her his attention she speaks- her powers quite formidable for such a little thing as she was and yet perhaps much the same could be said of himself.

“I have not met anyone whose powers work it such a way- you must find them….useful at times.”

As to what he is implying remains to be seen, gaze resting expectantly upon her all the same for several moments as he reaches at last for his coffee and the sugar that goes with it, rolling that sweetened cube about and upon his tongue for several moments in some effort to savoury that lingering and yet far to brief delight it bought. His own personal drug- in a way, the man forever willing to seek out such things if at all capable- a part of himself incapable of being tamed into humanity despite his efforts. Control, after all and in all things, was a facet of his nature he rather prided himself upon. Her willingness to further display her talents was met with a simple nod.

“Good. After this then I will show you a place where your powers can be released with a little more freedom.”

Powers, he has come to find, are rather like his own more animalistic state- to long ignored and they became rather riotous, his lip quirking slightly once more into a ghost of a grin at some internal amusement before he fixates more wholly upon his own more recent discovery. The buzzing within his mind rarely ceased of late, even now it hummed and whispered, tending to…clear perhaps whenever the whispers tended to be about himself. It was logical, perhaps, that he is more inclined in the early stages of such a power, to hear those thoughts directed too or about himself with far more clarity then those given to consider other things. A part of himself is given to wonder, truly, if such a power had developed in response to Alexander and his new found……friendship, perhaps, with the Hunter. The implications of such a power however are far less intriguing to the equine. The mounted hunting division often rapidly seemed to develop the skills to speak telepathically with their mounts of vice versa, that such a power had been unlocked within his own mind after spending such a period of time with the hunter was suggestive of that relationship and yet truly Frost was still inclined to resist allowing the man to actually ride. They would come to that in time- for now Frost is content to remain belligerent in that regard. Scarlett however, was perhaps to be the unfortunate victim of his newest discovery, someone to test it upon- though it would seem perhaps she had already become aware of it. Her single uttered word ignored for now though he suspects she is correct all the same.

She takes a sip of her own coffee before speaking now, Frost simply inclined to run his ringer along the rim of his own cup in a fashion almost absentminded though he finds some level of intrigue in the attractive young womans reply all the same. When it is offered however, he finds himself inclined to frown, if only slightly. It was…an unusual response, one that was almost surprising in it’s honesty as both eyes lift ever so slightly somewhere beneath that forelock of white and he finds a simper upon his lips all the same. Cold as he often is, indifferent as he appears, he is not wholly unappreciative of the comment, what man would not appreciate the admittance of such a woman? One hand lifting ever so slightly to flick aside the hair that hung over his left eye alone- offering her perhaps her first uninterrupted view of the violet coloured iris itself. His right eye however, remains wholly covered, as always- that not yet a secret he is willing to share with a woman he has known for no more then an hour or so.

“It is uncommon in my country as well, to a certain extent. My bloodline, if you will, is prized for this particularly trait, along with several others. Horses after all, are often bred for certain characteristics, like many animals. Breeding programs allow certain traits to become more fixed if the mating’s are controlled. It merely depends on what the….owner desires.”

His words, as always, remain indifferent, almost callous and yet such a sentence is surely…unusual in all regards despite the cold manner and lacking emotion with which it is delivered, the words seeming a little…off surely, to even the less astute observer and yet the mans shoulders shrug all the same. He has practised indifference to his more unusual upbringing so long that he has very near convinced himself he does not care. Nearly.

“They are a mutation of sorts, though a harmless one, purely for aesthetic value though I am pleased you find they have achieved their purpose.”

A chuckle of sorts hums from within his chest, the man seeming to attempt to dismiss the conversation as the waitress arrives to place the plates of bacon, eggs, sausage and toast before them- Frost moving easily to spate the contents of his plate, pushing aside the bacon and sausage, reaching instead to pluck the toast from the pile.

“Vegetarian.”

He simply adds, almost an afterthought, as if seeming to explain the action of separating his foods- a shake of his head concealing his gaze once more from view.

“Where is your pack then, little wolf? I was led to believe most wolves travelled together.”




Frostbite
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