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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!

:: You Feel Left Out, Or looked Down On :: On September 03, 2014 at 8:33 PM by Tobias

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For a moment at least his attention is distracted from himself as the woman falls upon her own steak with an exuberance he is unfamiliar with, eyes narrowing slightly at the rushed manner with which she consumes her own steak before he simply loses interest in the matter, displeased perhaps that he had not gotten to feast on a second one himself and yet even Tobias is governed by the laws of pack. The dominant eat first- but the sub-ordinate must be left something, her steak left alone simply because instinct demands it of him, her rejection of it perhaps the only indication he may have been willing to accept as his own right to eat it. He simply watches the mean disappear before his attention returns once more to himself, the young male clearly content perhaps, to become a victim to his more animalistic side tonight. Perhaps it is merely the season, perhaps it is simply an unusual good mood and yet truly the dark-haired deviant seems content to present himself tonight, doing as any young male animal, quiet content to put on rather the show for any female that mare have to misfortunate of watching. His determination to strut up and down the warehouse is halted only long enough for those fractured words to escape his lips, tangled hair caught within those lengthy eye lashes as his dark gaze remains upon her, the woman’s cheeks flushing slightly though he simply does not understand why, merely offering her his continued attention as she speaks. After all, he has learned over time that looking at someone when they speak is considered…normal, even if he is given to forget on occasion or the words spoken hold little true meaning to him.

Modesty, perhaps, is not the strongest of his virtues, the womans comment in regards to his eyes seeing a grin of sorts flicker upon his youthful visage before he suddenly nods in agreement to her statement. He never was a humble creature.

“I know.”

He simply grins once more, the simper held for a moment or so, the look a mimic of Tetradore’s own rarely seen smirk before it simply fades, the boy unable to comprehend that such a look should surely linger longer, features blank and expressionless once more as he continues to parade towards the end of the warehouse once more, head turning slightly at her mention of his walk. For a moment he does little more then stare, as if unable to understand what she has said, head tilting slightly to the side in some effort to better perceive her words and yet he is perhaps…oblivious to his own ‘funny’ walking in this regard, the man utterly propelled by instinct within these moments, not entirely aware of himself it would seem, though indeed his ability for self-awareness is a shockingly limited thing. He pivots once more upon, returning to his prideful parade, seemingly having become obsessive about such an action, dark eyes continuing to flick back towards the woman every so often, as if seeking to assure himself she continues to watch, the man finding himself satisfied by her attention as she nervously rings her fingers togather, the man simply unaware of the thoughts that entangle her mind.

He does not give compliments, not truly, his ability to perceive that was is beautiful, pretty, attractive a sadly limited thing, despite the minimal grasp upon it he often seems to display. He simply….does not see beauty, not truly, cannot be made to recognise why a flower is more lovely then the dirt it grows on, all such things existing for simply what they are and as such he is content to view Birdie just as he views Nadya or Tetra. He simply sees….them, the being, the person regardless of the appearance presented to him, her scars so very meaningless to one whom does not see them and never will. Yet her mind is surely as so many other women, lost within her own continued thoughts and misgivings, Tobias unable, truly, to express his own thoughts on the matter. She shrug she gives is very near ignored by the boy, her words similar so, Tobias seemingly having lost all interest in this conversation as he very near prances about, the titanium chain hung easily about his neck as he had promised so many nights ago, bare feet near silent upon the floor as each long limb graces across it, well-toned form clearly on display in this moment, concealed, if only slightly beneath his shirt and jeans, this tousled hair fallen haphazardly about his face as always, paused a final time in his continued parade as she speaks- a sudden scowl crossings his features.

“Birdie! I am….not happy!”

Her question, evidently, is not the right one, his demeanour seeming to have shifted dramatically in these moments, displeased that Birdie has wrongfully identified the emotion he is attempting to portray, his dramatic lack of social skills evidently to blame and yet, such is his nature, the man remains content to blame the unfortunate woman in this moment , arms folding across his chest. The very notion of just why he is moving about in such a manner is evidently unfamiliar to even him, the rue reason entirely instinct driven, a thought even his mind cannot grasp and yet his garbled, broken words attempt to offer something of an explanation.

“I…am walking…because I want you…to look. You…have to…like it.”

He is entirely assured her reaction is not the correct one, gaze positively stormy in this moment, evidently displeased he was not given to have the desired effect upon her, unable to comprehend that such things are entirely foreign to her, the woman perhaps never having had anyone seek her attention. His own features shift now, a momentary look of…indecision seeming to plague him.

“You….did not….like it?”

That he may have, somehow, managed not to gain her attention and failed at his self-imposed task seems to cause the barest hint of hesitancy, fingers knotting together slightly in a mimic of her own as one hand moves to scratch absentmindedly at the back of his neck the man shifting abruptly forward once more- moving to sit….right beside her, far closer then he is generally given to sit, taking a moment to settle himself, his behaviour surely unusual to the woman in this moment as he sits so very close, attempting something of a smile.


He is curious perhaps, to see just how close Birdie may be willing to let him, testing the boundaries, seeing if he may be permitted to touch her in some regard, arm brushing slightly against her own as he rests beside her, dark eyes warily watching her hands all the same, prepared to dodge should she seek to strike at him and make it clear his small advances are entirely unwanted.

“I said…hello nicely.”

That she had not reacted appropriately to step one has clearly seen the man shift to step two regardless, attempting do as Tetradore had instructed him, offering some sort of polite greeting, oblivious to the fact this is surely un-needed, his extreme ineptness within social situations on clear display now as he sits beside her, seeing how close she may let him be.

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