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    The North

    Within the Northern vicinity of the city the wealthy gather behind meticulously trimmed hedges and high class victorian architecture. The streets are paved with stone, the buildings are made of brick, and the storefronts are brightly lit and inviting. In the North every establishment is made to cater to the rich and the wealthy. Many such places are used to the sometimes peculiar requests of the otherworldly but here there is little that money cannot buy - weather it be illegal or merely looking the other way. Vampires and Dark Hunters are often found upon these Northern streets, their long lives often contributing to their sizable wealth which allow them the luxuries that the North provides.

    What's You'll Find Here

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    St. Pancras Station

    owned by Eve Thorn
    0 employees

    St. Pancras Station

    A historical train station renovated in to a luxury resort-style country club that unites Victorian elegance with contemporary style. Relax in the full-service spa featuring spa treatments, saunas, spa pools with hydro therapy & aqua bar, and relaxation lounges. The club offers many dining and entertainment options including Seven Sisters Lounge, Victoria Bistro, Barlow Gastropub and the formal St. Pancras restaurant as well as boutique shopping and event halls. Join The Chambers Club for a more exclusive entertainment experience.

    Owner Eve Thorn

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    The VooDoo Room

    owned by Ceara Hade
    0 employees

    The VooDoo Room

    The Voodoo Room is an award winning bar that aims to provide an eclectic and exotic atmosphere. The bar is filled with intoxicating liquors and a voodoo vibe to keep you coming back. Their mixologists meet the highest standards with our fantastical themed selections of cocktails and specials.

    Owner Ceara Hade

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    The Witchery

    owned by Rowena Metcalf
    1 employees

    The Witchery

    Dark, gothic, and throughly theatrical, the Witchery is a place to indulge yourself with it's fabulously lavish suites. Whatever room you choose, you'll find glamor, indulgence and luxury. The suites you have to choose from are: the Vestry, Sempill, the Old Rectory, the Library, the Turret, Heriot, Guardsroom, Armory.

    Owner Rowena Metcalf

    Sous Chef Elenore Dorian

and the vultures, why, they circled (Petra)101.180.53.52Posted On May 16, 2017 at 6:16 AM by Arlo

Arlo James

See what it's like to be a vulture's lunch


He could just about feel that music beating from the ground itself, the deep thrum of that bass echoing in between the sounds of screeching tyres, car horns and the shout of the crowd itself. Those rumbling engines bayed like barking dogs as they roared at each other. Arlo weaving his way in and out of that crowd gathered on the far North side of the city for those entirely illegal and yet entirely enticing street races. He kept the hood of his jacket up as he usually did, his youthful features obscured by those shadows as the man simply did as he did best. Hiding in plain sight. Making his way in and about that crowd as no one of importance, the man bumping accidentally against the occasional person, uttering his apologies, averting his gaze, hurrying away- assuring there was nothing memorable about him in any sense. Those people were hardly able to recall him, much less find him amongst those throngs of others. Arlo well having disappeared long before they realised their wallets were missing. The vampire readily pilfering that cash from them before tossing the wallets themselves onto the ground to be picked up by another to implicate in turn. He’d been run this sort of scheme before, the man determined to at least try and make rent payments this month. Mi would murder him if he was late again. His room-mate becoming tired of covering for him and really, he supposed, he didn’t blame her.

He folded those newest bills into his back pocket, the man pausing on the curb itself as those new contestants drove forward, his lip quirking at the sight of that blue Lamborghini. Only one man in town drove a car like, two men, to be correct- if you counted that shaggy-haired man who rode shot-gun with him every single time. Tobias and Tetradore almost as legendary on the streets as they were in that fighting ring aboard the Ark. Arlo hardly knew either of the men personally. The Ark itself attracted no vampires and as such it hardly held his interest and yet every time they showed up to race he’d managed to win some money on them in the least. Hell, it seemed they were running out of competition in this city. The pair had won so many times even Arlo was beginning to think they cheated somehow and yet he supposed it hardly mattered. They were as good as a sure thing when it came to a gamble, the car they were racing tonight barely deserved to stand in that Lamborghini’s shadow. The vampire confident enough to make this bet even though he damn well knew he shouldn’t. He’d always had a problem with that. Gambling. The vampire entirely sure it was why he never damn well had any money and yet he was impulsive by nature, he liked the thrill of it, that game of chance- wasn’t it how he lived?

He unfolded nearly half those stolen bills, passing them to the man taking bets with a nod towards that blue car before settling himself on the sidelines to wait for that race to start. The striking blue of his gaze shifted away from those cars, glancing briefly about that crowd, the vast majority of it made up of humans and Were’s with the occasional witch. He could smell them, each of them, in that perfectly predatory fashion unique to his species and yet not a single one of those mortals that surrounded him seemed to possess the sort of blood that called to him. Arlo ignoring all of them as if they hardly existed. His gaze searching for that very…particular type of prey and yet none of his own kind had shown themselves yet. Too early in the night perhaps. They’d come though, they always did. They were attracted by the sheer number of mortal bodies to feed on at events like this. Those crowds making it easy for them to lure one away and then- Arlo so waited for them in turn. His presence here was still largely unknown, the covens were none the wiser, Arlo assured he had a few weeks, maybe even months- before the vampires of this town became aware that a vampire of his…species was among them. Crusnik. That’s what Malek had told him he was. A Crusnik. Arlo hardly cared what name they gave him. It didn’t matter in the end.

The roar of those engines as the cars took off drew his gaze from the crowd now, that single lap around the block would hardly take more than a few minutes, the scent of petrol stinging at his senses as that sound of squealing tires echoed around the street. It barely took five minutes before those cars rounded the corner again, the blue Lamborghini racing over that line nearly a full thirty seconds ahead of the other car. That was barely a damn race! He should have bet on a wider margin. Those winnings were collected readily. Arlo having nearly doubled his money. This was going to be a good night. That scent suddenly seemed to hit him like a steam train. His head jerking upward, searching for the source of it amongst the crowd. He could smell another vampire, close by at that. Finally. His pupils dilated readily, saliva pooling within his jaws in hunger and yet he swallowed those urges, focusing his attention instead on finding the vampire. His gaze at last settling upon a vampire woman moving through the crowd. His own affinity reached out readily, Arlo disappearing only to reappear several feet to the side of the woman, pushing that hood from his head, stepping through the crowd easily now, assuring his path would collide with her own, his shoulder bumping against her as that mock look of surprise crossed his youthful features. Those near azure blue eyes met her own, one hand lifting to run fingers though that mop of near-black hair.

“Oh geez, sorry, didn’t see you there. Hey- do I know you from somewhere?”

He didn’t. He was sure of that. He never hit the same mark twice and yet he only needed to get her talking long enough to at least attempt to lead her away from that crowd and to somewhere secluded enough to sink his teeth into her.

“Yeah, you were in New York last year weren’t you? At that party. Don’t tell me you don’t remember me?”

God but she smelled good.




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