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    The West

    The western part of the city is often home to the poorer residents. Here there is a certain grunge that permeates the town from the graffiti on the once cleaned brick buildings to the broken and unmaintained architecture. Crime runs high within the western half of town, making it the home of supernatural gangs of illicit activities. Such activities are rarely reported however, and most residents are distrustful of individual's of authorities, instead letting the powerful supernatural beings sort things out amongst themselves. Be careful wandering the Western streets after the sun falls.

    What's You'll Find Here

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    Noah's Ark

    owned by Aiden Tetradore
    1 employees

    Noah's Ark

    Resting upon the harbor, Noah's Ark appears to be little more than an abandoned cargo ship. Accessible from an entrance hidden in the shadows, The Ark is a veritable Were-playground that specializes in fighting tournaments for all creatures great and small. With both singles and doubles tournaments to compete in, the title of Ark Champion is hotly contested amongst the Were population. If anything illegal is going on in the city it's sure to be happening within the back rooms or behind the ring-side bar.

    Owner Aiden Tetradore

    Co-owner Tobias Cain

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    Warehouse District

    Warehouse District

    The warehouse district rests just upon the harbor within the city. Many of the warehouses belong to corporate companies although some are used for less the legal means. Be careful when wandering this district at night for many groups meet within those dark, dilapidated buildings. There are also whispers of hard to obtain goods being sold behind those closed doors but you have to know who's who to get an in!

I met the devil and I sold my soul.; On May 16, 2017 at 3:17 PM by Brennan O'Connell

welcome to the darkest side of the sun

As he walked onward through the cluttered streets of Sacrosanct, watching and following her for what seems to him as an innocent look. Perhaps even only slightly curious to see what kind of life she lead after he so suddenly was plucked from this world and thrown like garbage into the unknown. He at least thought he was hot on her trail. That was until she made a quick turn down a street and disappeared from his line of sight, perhaps he was not as stealthy as he had thought. He curses inward. The warlock was not entirely prepared for the tables to shift and for Serafina to be suddenly become the hunter. She was hidden masterfully in the shadows, like a feline lying in wait within the dark and concealed confines of an alleyway she picked by change. It just so happened to be the one he hesitated in front of. His astute eyes gave the streets and sidewalk one more scan, all too oblivious to her stalking him in the darkness of the dimly lit passage way. There was only so many places she could hide, he pondered to, only the one place she chose was the place he actually never thought to look. In truth, he probably looked like a dumb bloke just standing there with a confused look upon his face.

That was when the raven haired witch ambushed him, she grabbed him so firmly by the collar that he didn’t even have a moment to register or think clearly what exactly happened, nor whom it was that attacked him. The man was already on edge from only recently returning to Sacrosanct, the stimuli of the city already assaulting him in an almost dizzying fashion. She sputtered chaotic incoherent words at him. The words simply did not make any sense to him when he shifted to full on survival mode, a primal state that had kept him alive and in one piece within that distant land he had come from. All he knew was he was being attacked and he reacted the same way he did all those countless times before, instinctually and merciless. His power to create thrummed to life rapidly that a weapon just suddenly appeared in his hand, a large dagger glowing a soft electric blue hue. He then pushed that smaller figure against the brick wall to his right with a firm and resounding thud, using the momentum that yanked him forward with strong and lightning precision. His impressive reflexes and muscles have honed even further from the last she saw him.

Something was not right in this roguish man, something inexplicitly broken.

Without thought, the blade had already shot up and placed firmly at her neck, his eyes blurry, swept in a haze of pulsing adrenaline that his heart beat harmonized with. He couldn’t afford a misstep or he would die, Or so he believed. From all that he has seen, it was well deserved.

But something reminded him exactly where he was, that distant call of his name on her lips and a demand that left the witch’s deliciously familiar mouth. He was no longer in that desolate wasteland he once was. He was in Sacrosanct, peering down at the woman that he had been following. He carefully blinks a few times as if clearing his eyes, allowing the obsidian haired witch to come into focus. Serafina. The sight of her so close to his masculine form chilled the warlock to the bone, sending an electric jolt through him so strong that his knees nearly buckled.

His heart slammed rapidly and forcefully in his chest, calling back his blade into nothingness and eases that powerful hold on her. He steps back only slightly, his mind reeling, but he maintains a closeness to her even though he does not touch her, his arms now at as his side. He drew forth a breath to steady himself, but he didn’t need it. Not with those familiar, sobering grey eyes piercing right through him, like they always did. It anchored him into reality. “Don’t you know not to sneak up on a man? I could have killed you.” He paused, peering down at her, that prominent Irish accent rang clear. “Although, I can’t say I mind this.” His voice seeped low and devious, as wicked rapacious smile forms upon his lips.

He took a slight detour before answering her question. He wanted to avoid the whole explaining part, in which no doubt, he owed her a lot of. Even if it would be one of the most difficult things to overcome, speaking of where he had gone and all that emotional stuff, well let’s say, he would rather walk off his own plank into shark infested waters.

Oh you know, spending several years in a hell dimension, just didn’t seem to quite flow off his tongue. Hell. Speaking was far more difficult than he could ever imagine; he hadn’t needed to with all the fighting for your life and all. Day in day out was a struggle at times, but the Irish man somehow adapted to that chaotic and carnivorous world, somehow made it work for him. It would forever change him.

How did he tell her, that he had been cast away by her mentor? All because of getting a little too emotionally close to the woman than now stood before him, a woman he still cared deeply for. “But if you need to know, love. I was just taking a stroll, before you assaulted me.” He lied lamely, a roguish grin crawling upon his scruffy face, the tone of his voice almost coaxing her to hit him with her umbrella.

He could not admit he was following her, even though he was quite unashamed by it. He knew she probably wouldn’t take too kindly to the gesture, after all, in her eyes he had simply vanished off the face of the planet without and goodbye. Although, that description could not have been more accurate.

Then he felt the burning excruciating sensation of the mark that marred his flesh. A painful reminder of the price he had to pay in order to escape that other world, to get back to a world with Serafina in it.

I know you are the only one

brennan o'connell


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