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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'm not selling out, i'm buying in108.93.10.156Posted On February 04, 2018 at 2:29 PM by ASKAREE

askaree


Where the hell was Spencer when she needed him? The curmudgeon's absence of late had left behind a decidedly difficult hole to fill, a peculiar consideration to blossom within the salted loam of Askaree's mind since so precious few individuals were granted such a literal second thought. Speaking of filling holes... it was probably because she had yet to fuck him. That was definitely it. Though it was not for lack of trying. Ish. The Egyptian wench had crafted somewhat of a game out of her tireless pursuit of the elder man, pressing him with but a small taste of her immense sensuality whenever it was that he found himself unfortunate enough to be caught in her presence. Admittedly it was as much for the arousing thrill of the chase and the humor she found in his annoyance than it was for any sincere interest she had in pressing creases into his starched sheets. Not that she wouldn't have climbed him like the tall, dark, and handsome sex-tree that he undoubtedly was had she been afforded the opportunity. When in Rome or whatever.

She certainly could have used a bracing dose of his particular brand of snobbish melancholy, especially this evening, as it seemed that she could pilfer not even the most scant measure of entertainment from within the various dives she haunted with almost alarming regularity. In previous periods of boredom the tanned woman had oft taken to pickling her organs in myriad genres of liquor whilst plucking impishly at the marionette strings of other patrons, whether to agitate or arouse them depending largely on which of her fickle moods swayed her. Tonight, however, not even the promise of a late-night/early-morning romp could quail the boredom that chewed rabidly at her innards. And so she finds herself outside, a gossamer curtain of dark brown hair asway in the evening's cool zephyr, an alarming amount of muscular control (despite the sheer volume of alcohol currently making its way into her bloodstream) seeing her stand upright of her own accord. She was a goddamn Olympian when it came to the sport of mocked sobriety.

That was until some asshole nearly pummels her to the ground in his rush to get to who the hell gives a shit. The phantom electric tingle of her affinity comes readily to her despite her state of inebriation, grabbing the man's foot to pull it violently from beneath him and send his body careening to the fissured concrete of the sidewalk below. "Sakhif 'ahmaq," she hisses to the groaning man sprawled upon the ground before she turns from him, perfectly content to leave him there and be on her merry way.



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