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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!

It's Truth Be Told Now71.94.239.232Posted On December 03, 2017 at 2:05 PM by Donovan Grey

Soft voice, but not soft spoken. There was some power and calm behind those words. It was female indefinitely. Seems that Donovan had been caught, but the female didn’t seem to be angry. As Donovan stood up, he found himself thinking back to a much similar situation.
Surviving his first night on the streets, and taking to violence. He remembered the rain pouring, and wearing a black rain jacket to shield him from the downpour.
He would see a drunk being thrown out of a bar into the alley. After the door shut, he waited for the right moment.

He didn’t want to just attack and make a ruckus, so like the Cheetah does, he would slowly creep forward, feet not making the slightest sound. The human would stand up and slink against the wall. He would lunge and strike at the nerve cluster in the man’s back and he would collapse.
This memory would cause some adrenaline to slowly flow through the veins of Donovan as he would shut his eyes and calmly breath.
The door to the bar would fly open, and a man wearing a trench coat and a cowboy hat would turn and see the young Donovan picking the unconscious man’s pockets.
“Youngster… Do you get a thrill harming a man that can defend himself? Or is there another reason why?”
The cowboy would ask young Donovan as he would put his victims wallet in his pocket and stand up.

His face was covered in specks of rain and he would look up at the grizzle faced cowboy that was asking him this question. He sighed and wore a long face.
“Sir.. I’m sorry… I’m stuck to the streets. It’s the only way I can survive.”
As the memory played itself out in his mind, he would open his eyes and turn to see the female leaning against the wall. He crossed his tattooed arms and stared at her with a straight face.
He could see she was in some sort of high position due her dress and her posture.
These things often gave away people, at least to Donovan.
After getting a small study off of her, he scoffed at her.

“I don’t get a thrill out of it. I don’t even feel pleasure. This is just something I’ve done for many, many years. It’s how I survived before I came to this town.”
He said in a voice that was monotone, and it fit his mood. He took a quick sniff of the air, and he could smell something. It wasn’t the garbage bins, nor the concrete stained by someone’s bodily fluids, etc.
No, he could tell that she wasn’t entirely human either. But he couldn’t pinpoint her. It wasn’t a disgusting stench, but it wasn’t a pleasing one. It was, plain.
He would dismiss this, simply because he had a feeling this female would make his trip to this side of town even more interesting.
“You think I like doing this? I didn’t have a choice a couple years ago. I still kinda don’t. No one wants to hire a “ruffian” or something covered in ink like me. They dismiss me first sight.
But I don’t think you came to this part just to have a chat, or just prod me with riddles.”

Donovan had a sneaking feeling that this woman had an ulterior motive for coming here. He just couldn’t pinpoint it. It was just like her scent, but this was an issue of mental sense being clouded.
He didn’t expect some well dressed woman to just appear out of nowhere and start barking questions. Let alone have a certain air about her.
“Who and what are you? Why are you here, and what do you want with me? Simple questions that have very simple answers that I’m sure you have ready to escape from your lips.”
He would cooly say to here, as he waited and would stand in preparation incase she would make a move.

These Voices Won't Leave Me Alone
image by allef vinicius


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