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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

my chaotic resolve124.168.7.208Posted On September 01, 2015 at 3:57 AM by Rixon Leifsson

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

He is used to being in control, he is used to dominating those around him. He is a stallion after all, he is designed for such things and more than that, he is an Alpha, a leader amongst his own kind- a creature designed to be dominant in all regards. Especially over females. This particularly girl, pretty though she was, was proving to be more trouble then he had anticipated, the girl possessing more spine and muscle then he had truly considered. He had underestimated her perhaps, in both regards to her courage and apparent knowledge and skill with horses. How was he to know she was more then a common rider? That she kept a number of her own horses, Fresian’s and Warmbloods. Perhaps had he been made aware of such things he may have even been willing to discuss such things with her. Equine bloodstock after all, has always been an interest of the young man. Maybe he would have even discussed his own equine form, the man appearing so similar, truly to a Gypsy Vanner made entirely of a pelt of snowy hue, indicating perhaps an infusion of other blood elsewhere, something lighter perhaps, Lusitano maybe- affording the stallion an movement truly extravagant whenever the warhorse chose to display it. It was his purpose after all- to battle and perhaps it is unwise of the woman to continue to attempt to exact her discipline upon him. He has already been classed as unrideable, untameable and unbreakable in turn. He has thrown all his previous riders, spent much of his life being as entirely difficult as possible- simply because he can, because he is tired of being treated as some beast of burden. Most of his energy of late put into establishing his own little pack- this young woman merely a toy to play with and yet….she was proving far more then that.

He barely sees the crop before she raises it once more, again determined to force him out of her space as it collides against his cheek. Yet this time it is not merely a dull slap as before, a weak and wasted effort- this time there is far more sting to her assault. It is not the first time he has ever been struck with an electrified object in an effort by another to achieve some respect from him and yet this time the pain is far more respectable. He wheels from her almost rapidly, a squeal resounding from within him as he canters to the side, head swung wildly in an effort to be free of the stinging sensation upon his check before he slows to a prancing trot, turning a circle around the woman now almost as if tied by a lunging lead and yet this is far more…dangerous. Each step is long and fluid, the stallion passing briefly beneath another street light, those faint touches of gold within his pelt flaring to life beneath it as each powerful muscle as the warhorse coils and rolls as he circles the girl again….though keeps his distance, eyeing that ridiculous stick within her hand- unwilling to allow her to strike him again.

You are truly beginning to annoy me now.

He is a magnificent creature truly, far superior to any other equine within the city, surely. The poor girl evidently fearing her insanity in the wake of his words, perhaps she would merely fear she had stuck her head to hard tonight as the stallion whirls abruptly and turns inward, stopping behind her now yet just out of reach- ears pricked forward.

Why did you hit me again? I dislike that. I asked you so nicely not too as well, tsk, tsk.

Whether she chooses to believe she is insane and imagining the words or not hardly matters- he is surely the most poorly behaved stallion she has ever met, perhaps she might believe him wholly wild or entirely unhandled. His eyes cast briefly downward towards the blood upon her leg, nostrils flaring at the scent, head jerking back slightly. Blood is….displeasing to him, the scent potent and thick as his head shakes again and those violet eyes seek her own beneath that long, thick white forelock. He is ready, this time, aware of the zapping stick she holds- eyeing it warily still- before each muscle ins his form seems to tighten- the stallion rearing suddenly upwards and before her, one foreleg striking out in threat, though not yet close enough to truly strike her as a few steps upon his hind legs carry him forward- attempting to her force her back now. Forelegs crash back to the earth, ears pinned back, head swung again in warning as one foreleg strikes out at her again.

Put your little stick down- or I won’t miss next time, come on now, be a good girl. Put it down and we can have a little chat instead.

No one said a stallion couldn’t be condescending now did they? The animal seeking one final time to have the woman yield to him, walking forward now- aiming to force her to walk backward in submission. He is wary this time though, her last strike seeming to have slammed some sense into him, if nothing else, watching her hand carefully now as he moves. How tough could one little girl truly be? Dominance is a game of give and take after all and twice now she had managed to force him away, twice she had demanded some level of respect and perhaps….on a small level had earned it, he had not struck her directly after all. Perhaps the ‘taming’ of this stallion requires all her skill.




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