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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!

I want truth and reason, clean and decent 72.174.74.6Posted On January 11, 2018 at 8:42 PM by Lisé Dupont

and maybe we are two sinners
who go bigger, but burn quicker

”Is this what dying feels like?” Lisé asked herself as she laid sprawled out on the ground, the clouds spinning in and out of her vision. Moments before, she had been in a café, having a nice conversation when suddenly, James decided it was the most brilliant idea to make her keel over in severe pain. ”What a gentleman,” Lisé sarcastically thought as she recalled him informing her that he needn’t any explanation on where or what he was doing. Slightly listening, James rants on about how she had the audacity to touch him. “How else would I punch you? You know, you have to touch someone to do that,” she remarked wittedly back, still catching her breath.

There he went off again. Letting her know that she was a lowly creature, how she shouldn’t even exist, and how he should have killed her when he had the chance. “Well, you had your chance. It’s not my fault you sucked at it,” she crazily laughed back at him. “Ughh,” Lisé groaned as she felt all the stomach acid and alcohol that sloshed like a tidal wave in her stomach. She didn’t even know how booze could affect her so, she was a vampire after all. Yet it defied all logic. Just like herself. Before she could contemplate more on puking her guts out into the snow beside her, James reminded her of how his body isn’t affected like hers was when there was a certain distance between them. “I know, I just wanted you to feel something,” she sickly replied, more concerned about her stomach situation that James.

There was a sudden set of footsteps that trailed towards the two. The sweet smell of the café’s cupcakes wafted over in her direction. “Great,” Lisé sighed, but she suddenly shot Frost a look of caution. “Meet my roommate,” Lisé introduced the pissed off man beside her. Frost introducing himself with the smart-ass comment of how vampiric species possessed natural grace, that they did not uphold. “Oh, no problem. I’m glad I can make a difference in the vampiric community. That way, no one can generalize the population. Such prejudice generalizations I provide fresh perspective to,” she teased back. “As for him, he’s usually graceful. Forgive him, he’s having an off day. He tripped,” she laughed, amused at herself, still catching her breath. Lisé glanced up towards Frost who was now resting beside a car, looking prepared for anything. At least he seemed to get her hint of warning.

The stallion added that their conversation was not done yet and not a moment later did James burst out with rage, asking who the hell Frost was and that there was no conversation to be had. “I don’t think he was meaning you,” Lisé smirked, now the only one still sprawled on the ground. She had the sudden drunken urge to make a snow angel amid chaos. It was just something that she had to do, right then, right at that moment. Now the alcohol really affecting her, she casually responded, “Noo, I don’t want to go home yet. I want to make more snow ang- *hic*.” Even in her inebriated stupor, she was smart to figure out that it was indeed, time to go. “Maaan,” she whined as she stopped to pull herself to her feet. She looked back upon the ground, a widened smile stretching across her face, admiring her beautiful elongated, deformed, snow angel. “What a work of art, right? My parents w-would be *hic*, proud *hic*,” she gleamed, a glint of pain resonating beneath her gaze. “You two try to do better than that,” she stated triumphantly, placing her hands on her hips.
It wasn’t long before the drunkenness turned her into a mess of mood swings. Replaying in her head just what happened moments ago, she angrily spoke, “I don’t get why you do this James. If you had to go through the pain I do, you wouldn’t *hic* survive one set of torture, you wimp,” her brows now furrowing and talking as if she was giving the most important life advice. Her mind bouncing from topic to topic, she spoke proudly stating that she could find her way home. Thinking this was the best idea she ever had, she started walking, now swaying with every step she took until she landed flat on her face. This time, deciding it was best to make a snow angel face first.

Lisé Etta Dupont;
dante



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