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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!

is also great and would suffice120.154.83.167Posted On January 27, 2018 at 11:59 PM by Rixon Leifsson

we built this city on broken glass

There was a certain amount of daring to the girl. A bold sort of daring. Frost finding her attitude both appealing and refreshing all at once. The world lacked women with this sort of spine. A part of him perhaps drawn to the wildness of her nature all at once. It reminded him of….him, of home, of those very things he had once overcome in turn to reach that point in his existence he had today. Frost hardly found he regretted sharing that which he had with the woman. After all, she trusted him with her safety, surely he could afford her some trust in turn if only to further that bond between them. A weak pack was a vulnerable one and Frost so refused to allow his pack to display any weaknesses to the outside world. Perhaps he was over-cautious and yet he had reason to be. The world had taught him it's lessons hard enough and he was ill inclined to forget them. Malia promptly declaring that, if she was required to run that pack in his absence, she would learn and learn quickly all the same- the woman citing the speed at which she had mastered that shifting. Frost’s head nodded simply.

“You are, in fact, the first I have ever known to master it with that speed.”

It was, he suspected, her status as a born-Were rather than a created one that had facilitated her ease of transition and yet it had required diligence on her part all the same. Frost seeing little need to diminish her effort. The stallion, instead, inquiring after whether or not she was joining him for dinner. The man half anticipating she might choose to venture off into the night, her agreement taking him by surprise- in some measure- as he merely gestured for her to follow all the same as he led the way into that kitchen, Malia wandering to stand behind him as Frost’s attention shifted to the fridge. The stallion pausing to search for something acceptable for the woman and her decidedly carnivorous diet. Those pork chops in the least appearing do-able as he dropped them in that heating pan. His attention shifted toward Malia as she inquired on whether or not that meat made him ‘squeamish’. Frost allowing his shoulders to shrug.

“I offered you dinner, it would hardly be an offer if I required you to make it yourself. As for the meat it is not my favourite thing to touch but….blood is blood. I would be far more opposed to biting it then merely touching it. I am vegetarian because I have to be- not because i have some foolish ideas about the rights of pigs not to be eaten or some other human nonsense.”

That, he was sure, Malia might well agree with. Meat was meat. Meat was food. Perhaps it was not his chosen food but he hardly begrudged a carnivores need to consume it. It was the way of life. To feel distressed at touching it would be equally as foolish to his own mind. The smell nor taste appealed to him and yet he maintained that ability to prepare it all the same- it was a necessary skill. He hardly anticipated for the woman to suddenly reach for the hot pan quite before he could stop her, the girl burning her fingers as she hurriedly pulled them back with that insistence he would burn them. That meat barely even seared. Frost sighing slightly and yet he hardly scolded the woman in any sense.

“The fire underneath heats up the pan, the pan transfers that heat to the meat and cooks it. I will do them rare for you, the means, not all the way cooked, you will likely enjoy them more but no they will not burn. It will take quite a bit of time for them to burn. Anything you see sitting on this stove, if the fire is under it, is hot- do not touch it. Here, give me your hand.”

He turned back to that meal in the same moment, one hand held out behind him for her own, the other turning those flipping those chops over with the spatula. He waited only so long as it took the woman to offer him her burned hand. Frost closing his fingers over it before that affinity was readily summoned, that burn melting away instantly from her hand as he released it. The man affording her no words on just how that had occurred as he reached for the nearest plate to place those chops on it. The stallion switching off that stove before turning to place the plate on the table and in front of a chair for the woman, that cutlery placed beside it with a pointed look that clearly indicated hands were not appropriate lest the girl burn herself again. Frost returned easily to that fridge then, that bowl of salad plucked from it to be placed on the table in front off his own chair, Frost stabbing that lettuce leaf with his own fork as he sat, his hand kept as turned as he was able in an effort to prevent the woman seeing the burn that marked his own skin in place of hers.

“If you want them cooked more let me know, but that is as close to uncooked as they can safely get. Raw meat should not be eaten in your human skin, it arouses suspicion and more then that, you might make yourself sick. Cut it with your knife Malia, bite-sized pieces.”

One eye lifted once more as if near daring the woman to argue before that suggestion of that nights hunting was made, that small simper finding his features at the woman agreement to join him in so capturing a Hunter.

“I shall look forward to seeing what you can do.”



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