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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 new school teachings, deeper meanings72.174.74.6Posted On February 10, 2018 at 11:31 PM by Lisé Dupont

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

James just always had to suck the fun right out of everything. Oh, how there he went on again, that look of utter hatred seeping out of every pore he possibly exuded. Just by the mere fact that she had met someone and was having a blast getting drunk and making snow angels. She noticed how Frost stood by the sidelines entertained by her and James’ atrocious banter back and forth to one another. Even if she was in a drunken stupor, fully admiring her fantastic snow art, James shook her into a sober state when he dared to utter the words regarding her parents. “You would know best, wouldn’t you,” she sneered back at him, a pure look of disgust in her eyes. ” How dare he speak of my parents in such light. The one day where he finds himself scared beyond belief, I will make sure I am there to feed off his fears until he draws his last breath. I don’t care if it takes me too.” Lisé impulsively thought as she lost her balance and fell back into the snow.

Before James could spitefully spout any more cruelty, Frost interrupted with how him and Lisé had not finished their conversation about giraffes. “Oh yes!” she chimed loudly in. “I was saying that if I was a were creature I would be a giraffe. Do you know why Jamesy?” she giggled stupidly. “Because I’m tall of course,” bursting out into a sensational fit of laughter, as if her punchline was the best there was to hear. “What would you be Frost? Oh wait, I already know that.” She snorted, remembering her remark on his nose. Frost had continued the conversation with a remark of letting James know, he was a lucky man to have such a woman capable in the snow. Lisé didn’t care if Frost decidedly was taking a jab to sarcastically speak about her. She knew fully well she was a mess. It didn’t take anyone else to tell her otherwise.

As to James’s comment on how he wanted to make clear to Frost that him and Lisé were not friends she broke out into another fit of laughter. “Heaven’s no, I’d never want to be friends with a mind like you in a million years. Not after people see you for the bastard you are.” She shot back at him. James ignores the both and asks Lisé one final time if she is going to need a ride back. “No, I don’t think so,” she firmly said. “I will come home once I’m finished with my snow angels,” she points her finger to the sky and nods her head. Taking another swig from her flask she turns to Frost and approaches him confidently. She leans in slowly to whisper into his ear, “The cupcake was delicious. You owe me three more.” Turning on her heels, she stumbles down the path, ignorantly waving her flask as a goodbye wave.

Lisé Etta Dupont;
dante



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