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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!

You don't know what hate is yet. But you will; On July 14, 2017 at 2:25 PM by Risque


The woman relished in this very moment as that look of utter defeat crawled upon his masculine features. Good, she thought, wondering if he had simply forgotten. Yet she had a lot of time to practice and hone her already polished torment techniques. Risque had a very unique brand of torture that would break even the hardest of exteriors, everyone had a breaking point. All that was needed was time and the right amount of pressure. If that breaking point could make a sound it would sound luxurious to the nefarious vampire, sending shivers down her entire spine, if it had a scent, it would smell like the finest intoxicating ambrosia. If it had a taste, it could light up her entire taste buds as though on fire with an intricate supernova of flavours. For a moment he did not dare look at her, avoiding those hypnotic pale eyes that did not waiver their mark upon him. He would not slip away from her sights, not so easily tonight. The night has just begun and she had only just started her psychological onslaught. A wicked delight thrums through her as though it vibrates her very ancient bones in anticipation.

His sigh was all the submission she needed to know at this very moment that he understood that the wicked witch was in fact not dead. She may not have been as powerful as she once was but she possessed her cunning, her control and her army. She had an army at her beck and call to submit to her very needs. And now, as the gears clicked back into place she had her panther back. She was patient, oh so very patient as she allowed him that much needed chance to blow off that steam, to make connections in the world he coveted so much. It made him that much easier to break and bend to her very desires. Yet she knew it wouldn’t be without a fight. Those very reasons that would make him fight, would also be the leverage she needed to control him. A devilish subtle smirk danced across her sinful lips that were painted that dark bloodied crimson as though it were the blood from a recent meal and not her favourite shade of lipstick.

Tetradore was more than just a mere pet in her malicious little game. He was always more. Why else would she allow him that taste of freedom? It was a gift as much as it was a curse. But to Risque, it was gift she didn’t bestow upon just any of her creatures. Risque gave him a lengthy rope and he somehow managed to hang himself with it. It was also far sooner than even she thought. Now he would have to return to her very clutches, one way or another even if she had to break what was already once broken.

That iconic scowl met her kitty cats features and perhaps it was that very moment she realised how much she missed her possession, her weapon, in its own twisted way he was her partner without the equality. He was hers entirely whether he admitted so or not. No matter what corners of the earth he crawled to, no matter how much he fought she would be one step ahead.

His words lash out at her, his insolence was insulting. She could feel the twitch of her lip as it nearly peeled back into a malicious snarl. She could handle his questions, could handle his reluctance. But flat out disrespect? It set her inner feline ablaze, irate, and ready to strike with that vicious hand. The walls that held her temper at bay crumbled almost too quickly as though it were made of sand rather than metal, her eyes exposed her quick to violence nature. Surely he knew this side all too well. His defiance was like a direct abrasive assault against the feline queen and it would b taken lightly. “You are foolish.” She hisses. “You owe me your life.” That ominous rage stirs within the kitten queen. That power she possessed to control felines bubbled to life pressing down upon him, as though that very voice echoed through the corridors of her kingdom. The female panther that led him here flinched and then hunkered down as if stuck. It was as though she felt that very strike and felt that power which slapped across her muzzle much akin to a unforgiving whip. She glared at those emerald eyes with her pale glittering fury. He was not making this easy for himself and yet she enjoys that taste of challenge, welcoming it for the simple reason that she would pay it back 10 fold.

The defiance continued, that emerald stare was filled with so much fight that it was inspiring how even against his odds he still tempted his fate. Perhaps that was the reason that got him killed in the first place. She could not have it. “I have little intention of simply letting you go. Oh, Tetradore. It is so adorable that you think you have a choice.” She nearly pouts, her voice almost wistful for him and it is all a beautiful act. Mocking amusement flickered behind those words that were still infused with her rage. What a dragon’s fury it was and he still goaded her. Yet she contains herself, like a nuclear bomb ready to explode and it didn’t take much at all. All she needed to do was press that hair trigger button and he was done for.

Oh such suspicion encircled and weaved through his words, through his very being as though he was at odds with his past and present self. That uncertainty bled all over the place. It is now she reveals her hand, allowing him to know the truth that had always been hidden from him. “The amulet you are wearing, came from me. A gift. Only you couldn’t know it came from me or you wouldn’t wear it.” She spoke so matter of fact, her hot liquid voice void of any emotion. “You came back to life like a phoenix from the ashes because of that trinket you wear. That trinket I gave you.” It cost her a great deal and she needed to ensure her investment would eventually pay off. She couldn’t have him die on her a free man, could she? “I gave you a chance to live your life without me. But once you squandered that life like a fool, you were intended to come back to me.” She nearly licks his flesh, suddenly distracted by that pulse she could see within his neck.

“To be honest, I thought you would last longer, alas. Here we are. You obviously need me if you can’t even survive a few measly years without your queen.” Those dramatic words tease, prod and slice as a small shrug of her exposed shoulders rise and fall. He is so close she could practically taste him, relishing in the way his skin flinches from her touch. The malevolent creature could feel his heat radiating from his hardened physique as the warmth caresses her deathly cold. She abruptly drops the amulet from her fingers, sensually tracing a pale, slender finger across his chest slowly over that forgiving shirt. Their proximity leaves them so close that she could practically taste the humidity of his heated breath upon her, drawing in that oh so intoxicating scent the vampire queen could not help but wonder if death altered his taste.

He still didn’t greet her and she was still miffed at that, not to mention that defiance he still held for her. Her demand is sharp and immediate. For moment she looked as though she were contemplating something but it passes just as fleeting. “Now. On. Your knees and thank me.” Her calculating words dripped from her lips. Each word was spoken low and yet shrill and enunciated, infused with that murderous intent. The look in her eyes displayed that she was on some kind of precipice, teetering off that obscure brink. The brush of that power thrums to life like licking flames as if threatening him to obey and yet she does not force him even though she can. She dares him to defy her now with that expression upon her gorgeous features made up of nightmares. Just so she can watch that defiance slowly dissipate from his vibrant stare. Oh he had no clue what pain was.. not yet.


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