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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!

kisses & kerosene; On May 18, 2017 at 11:08 AM by Risque


A brief light touch of a foot, his foot, scuffed her sleek black fur, and it was not enough to truly wake the snoozing beast. She shifted so slightly at first, stretching out a massive paw, a rumbling noise escaped the seemingly peaceful feline’s softly sleeping form. The large creature looked more akin to a snoozing cat than an untamed creature meant to stalk prey in a distant jungle somewhere tropical. Where the weather was thick with humidity within that oppressive heat as though the air itself was too dense to breathe. But not to their kind, not to the jaguars and leopards that owned the rainforests and the various other unique creatures that dwelled beneath the dense canopy. The animal within her dreams of such a place, a place that is was designed to thrive and dwell, not a concrete wasteland such as this, which stunk of rot and piss. It was vile to the creature, and yet despite all the scents that assaulted her in every way, she still adapted. After all, she traded one world for another. Her timid nature could not be suppressed by even Risque, even as she continuously tries to push and shape her into something, or someone else more callused and ruthless. As though she had high standards that she could not fill, someone that the other felines (well the lucid ones) would utter his name in hushed tones when the queen was not present. The female jungle cat did as she was asked, as though she served a god and not just any mere vampire.

Oh, she would not be pleased if she knew she had forgotten the mission at hand and gave literally slept on her duty, it was selfish and she would be punished brutally. She only slept when Risque allowed it. When her mistress allowed her a few short minutes to curl up and close her eyes. Often times, she wondered if she had forgotten how sleep deprived she actually was. It was that thought of her failure that and the potent scent of the man she was tracking wafted her way that ushered her out of sleep. Her eyes shooting open so rapidly that she didn’t have enough time to adjust to the light within the room. He was kneeling before her, his fingers wiggling like worms before her face, she could have bit those tempting finger that her eyes watch with interest, but she didn’t dare for fear of her mistress’ wrath. She moved so quickly, nearly thrashing about like a fish out of water that she nearly toppled over that desk as she crashed into it in a scramble to get to her paws. Her powers to conceal lithe form flickered on and off as though she became a chameleon blending in with her surroundings, invisible but then appears as if conflicted as to what she was doing. The fear of failing her mistresses scared her more than the actual task at hand.

Find Tetradore. Give him the box. Bring him to Risque. That was her carefully laid out instructions, splayed out for her, engraved resolutely in her mind. She could feel the gentle tug of compulsion, the resolute desire to obey.

His words ring out, as she darts out of her resting place and out into the open her heart pounding in her chest to the tempo of a feverish pace of a drum solo. She shouldn’t be there he says. Yes, she was she thought. This was her purpose. She blinks at him blankly as though she doesn’t understand what he was saying. “You’re the, Tetradore. I found you.” She uttered in hushed tones, almost in disbelief and yet all too pleased by her own tracking abilities. She draws closer to the man, rubbing firmly against his leg starting with that dainty head the long length of her body, yes this certainly smelled like the man she was supposed to find. “I have a gift for you.” She purrs loudly, the words echoing in this fellow shifter’s head. She pauses in front of him, her tail moving in slow motion the tip flicking too and fro like a dancing snake weaving through foliage. She places the box at his feet, unhooked the black lace ribbon from her large, glinting incisors, taking a single silent step backwards.

“Now you must follow me?” She asks, unsure of herself at first, knowing very well that her mistress had meant it more as a demand rather than a request. Suddenly the panther makes herself invisible, suddenly nervous and unsure. She didn’t want him to see her, but he had to if he was going to follow her. What if he didn’t follow? How was she to make him come with her? It wasn’t like she could drag him back to Risque’s dwelling, could she? What if she couldn’t get him to join her, she hunkered slightly at the thought. Risque would not be satisfied with her and she knew what happened when the malicious Kitty Queen was displeased. The thought on its own clattered around within the confines of her skull.

She would be punished for her failure with pitiless intensity.

The thought made her shudder through her whole body, a resonating feeling that nearly shook her frame. She peeked out from the invisible veil, her sleek feline form once more exposed to the green-eyed man. “Please? I must.” She pleads. She drew closer, reaching to find a loose piece of fabric from his clothing, tugging it almost too gently in the direction toward the exit. All whilst she felt that familiar pull of Risque, calling her back, a call she could not ignore. It resonates within her, filling every single crevice of her body, that urgent tug of her demand. She would always return to that call, even despite not having a choice. She was and will always be bound by blood. ‘Yes, I am coming.’ She thought. An expectant look flickered across her refined face toward the one called Tetradore.


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