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    The South

    Although the southern parts of the city might not have the luxuries of the north or the down town vibe of the east, but these suburbs still have their own sort of charm. Here small neighborhood owned shops often run rampant, individuals often know each other by first name. The west is a quaint, quiet part of town. It's the sort of place where children can be seen playing safely on the sidewalks and clamoring in the park. On the weekends in the families often take to the beach to enjoy the warm waters that surround the city.

    What's You'll Find Here

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    Beachside Bar & Bistro

    owned by Adelaide Labelle
    3 employees

    Beachside Bar & Bistro

    Resting right on the beach near the small, locally owned shops and markets sits a bar and bistro with an elegant yet modern interior. There is seating both indoors and outdoors on the back patio where one can enjoy the melodic sounds of saltwater waves and fresh air. The menu consists of French dishes alongside American and Seafood choices and a wide range of liquors at the bar inside to accommodate the varied tastes and cravings of its customers. It is a charming little establishment that allows for those needing a break from the busy city streets to come and unwind.

    Owner Adelaide Labelle

    Barkeeper Killian Carrick
    Waitress Abigail Hughes
    Waitress Elain Daray

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    Hyde Park

    Hyde Park

    Hyde Place takes up a large part of the Southern side of the city and includes a large playground, several fountains, and a small garden. The park is open from five in the morning till midnight though many shady characters may visit this place while it's technically "closed". The park has also been a venue for several concerts and hosts many holiday related events. Under a full moon, witches are often seen here for the sacred ground beneath the iconic Weeping Beech.

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    The Outskirts

    The Outskirts

    Beyond the city limits and over the bridge lies the deep, dark, and almost impenetrable forest. Often times seen as a way to guard this magical city from the world that surrounds it, many are entirely ignorant of the evil that may creep between those tree trunks. Many were-creatures use the forest for the transformations of their newest members and some even take to hunting here. It isn't particularly peculiar for people to go missing within this forest but once you get through, the rest of the world awaits.

THEY SAY IM A GOD On April 14, 2017 at 5:26 PM by IÓRKÆLL DVÆRG


It is dead here.

But that was how he liked it after all.

The sun is on the edge of the horizon, therapeutic splashes of color litter the sky. The blood red from earlier fading to delicate pinks and golds. It reminds the viking king of the crimson stained battlefields, followed by the lavish feasts and luxurious victory dances in the dining halls. A little homesick perhaps, but the world wouldn’t know of it. That scarred face is a gruesome mask able to ward off any and all who dare to meet him in his gloomy wake. Those nearly clear blue eyes so cold it can send his enemies into a frozen fit of fear. There are other sides too, but it takes a lot to find those.

He adjusts his seated position, forearm moving to rest over a bended knee, the other leg laying straight against the grass. His other hand rests on the silver tipped axe beside him, a reminder that he has nothing to fear except fear itself. He wields the very thing that could kill him. A risky move and yet he basks in the exhilaration it brings him to carry around his own demise. None have come close enough to rid him of this weapon, and if any should, well, at that point he might just lay down and let it happen for it would take a lot to do so. In battle, if one should ever get to that point with him, it would be an honor to die.

Perhaps that is what is so very wrong with him. He finds beauty in death, ugliness in life. For him, dying is a gift he would gladly accept and when you go into war with no fear, it can practically turn you into a god.

the colors fade and night forms around him, shadows happy to see him after a long day away. his inky flesh welcomes them easily, and they collide, causing the mass to fall away into darkness almost as if disappearing from thin air. he rises from his lowered position, hand finding his steel companion and bringing it along for the ride.

but his journey to delve deeper into his territory is interrupted.

He can sense the other before anything else, his predatory instincts kicking in naturally. He remains neutral, his gaze flicking to her hunched form on that bench idly. the cigarette smoke is disgusting to him. her voice irritating and to be honest, it seems like her mind is...well, messed up.

then again, who was the crazed viking one to talk? he moves to her steadily, thick hand sliding out to grab the cigarette and thrust it to the ground as boot follows suit, smashing the deadly poison that so many like to place inside their lungs. he is before her now, his shadow falling upon her as he unknowingly takes the place of the ghost boy in her gaze.



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