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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!

Enjoy your slay; On June 01, 2017 at 9:29 AM by Risque


It didn’t quite feel safe within the foreign Ark, outside of the familiar concrete walls of the only structure she had submitted to, at least she knew it was secure there. It was a safe enough harbour for the timid little creature, very much a creature of habit, not dwelling too far outside of her comfort zone. At least in the presence of a devil she only had to worry about the wrath of one rather than many. It was a far better alternative than being out in the chaotic world that was entirely out of her control and the forces that threaten her with their stifling presence. It was one of the many reasons why willingly offered to serve the Kitten Queen.

She had a job to do, to deliver the pack to Tetradore and bring him to her mistress. Failure would lead her to a path of a white hot fury storm she did not want to be pelted with. She had much preferred the jobs when she was to be her spy, to hide amongst the people without being seen. She was quite good at that. She had seen what happened to those that let Risque down and it was enough to make her very core quiver as though that quake within could crack her like parched earth. Her fragile heart beats its frantic pace without relenting until she knew that she had completed her mission. She almost felt her heart beat calm as he opens the small black package that now was betwixt his fingertips. She tail flicks to and fro in an almost flippant manner as though it could not rest as she was visible to the man that was more legend than actually a man standing before her. With an almost curious gaze, she watches those intricate irises seem to shift like dancing galaxies ever fluctuating.

She seems to snuff herself out of existence whenever there was a moment she was worried about his reaction, in case of rage overtook the man. Risque’s gifts never seemed to please anyone, but a gift was a gift and regardless of what it was in there and should be received with some kind of grateful aptitude. Presents were good, were they not? Even a predator offered gifts of their kill to those they cherished. The female panther seems to wait with baited breath for him to open the package wishing he would simply choose to open it later and follow her. Her mistress said nothing about him opening the package and maybe that was for the better?

She pleads with him to follow her, even tugging at his clothing gently to follow. The words, where are we going made her pause, frozen in her tracks. “I know the way, I will show you. No one will see us.” She didn’t like the idea of being seen, didn’t want the creepy crawly feeling of eyes upon her glistening ebony fur and even less upon her actual human flesh. When the man finally opened the black box she immediately hides from his eyes, invisible and frightened at the reaction it might garner. He dropped the box along with its contents with a hollow thud. She peers at it with wide curious eyes. It was his, it belonged to him. Wouldn’t he be happy to get it back?

A growl escapes him and the guttural sound makes her fearful of what was to come. “This does not make you happy?” She asked so very cautiously almost regretting her words. She nearly trembled so hard that it nearly vibrated her several feet. She draws a steadying breath, as though blinking back nerves that threatened to undo her, not that it took too much. But her agreed to follow her. Her mistress would be pleased. She flickered back into reality so that he can see her, for a moment, her body sliding along his leg so he could feel her presence. They slip through the shadows that remain familiar to her, only cloaking herself when eyes manage to shift to her way. She was happy to leave that unknown behind.

They wind through the seemingly very complex route she had created but in truth, she retraces her own path she took to The Ark perfectly. It took a good little while and couple of last minute route changes but they finally made it. The sign hadn’t been put up yet so it just appeared like an abandoned old warehouse. It was large, the perfect size to cater to all of Risque’s wicked decadence. “THANK YOUR MOTHER FOR THE RABBITS!! We are here!” She exclaimed she did it! The possibility of failure no longer hung above her head like a executioners blade. Here she stood next to the man that would no doubt stir quite the commotion inside. She slinked gracefully along the side of the building hugging tightly along the side of the wall. She could see the soft glow of the door she had left slightly ajar, propped open by a small stick. She wedged it wide open with her nose. “In here.” She spoke softly almost solemnly within his mind as if cautious to make too much noise.

Once inside, she checked to see if he followed her within and that the door clicked closed with finality. There was a resounding rumble of an agitated tiger clearly not impressed with something, it roared so loudly that she could feel it shudder through her entire body. She paused for but a moment before the meek panther spoke. “Welcome to Syn, Tetradore.” At long last, she was home and she would not have anything to fear, at least not this time. She allows him to let the scene sink in, to take in all the creatures that wandered the soon to be a bar so casually and at ease. It was a neon oasis within these thick concrete walls, the insides by no means matched the battered exterior. She purrs contentedly as she creeps further within the familiar bar, rubbing her head against his idle hand to encourage him further.

That was when a voice pierces through the seemingly exotic veil of the bar and she recognised the familiar pull of her mistress, her presence is well known and familiar. She moves toward that inescapable psychic pull, she even welcomes it. She drew closer as though lost in a spell, she slinks over to the raven haired vampire who exited the confines of her office.

Not a single animal stirred or made a sound when the cat queen spoke. “Tetradore?” Risque’s voice reaches out, her pitch is nothing short of that dark sensual appeal and yet laced with that familiar insidious intention. That gravitational pull of her intoxicating voice beckons her prized creature closer, Tetradore. It has been some time since she had laid eyes upon her creation. She dares him to deny her, to make her force her hand so soon. “Is that how you greet me, Tettypoo?” She multifaceted eyes flash dangerously toward Tetradore, as her timid creature moved toward Risque, her head low, submissive and eager. She rubs her cheek against her exposed leg, allowing her whole side to come into contact with the pale monster that was Risque.

Risque’s attention did not even falter from Tetradore, a salacious all-knowing grin placed upon her lush lips exposing just a brush of a deadly fang. That gaze does not yet falter. “You do not disappoint me this time.” She muttered her poison sweetness to her female cat, that voice calloused and void of any emotion or affection. Her hand caressed that sleek black fur idly like she had done a million times before a display that showed that this cat was hers. She waits for Tetradore to make his approach, her patience a short-lived façade. This night would not end well.


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