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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

Rip off the wings of a butterfly;64.229.0.55Posted On May 26, 2017 at 10:12 AM by Petra Ambrose



Petra watches him with a studying sharp and keen gaze. How they gleam as though they are taking in far more than she was letting on, her mind working in elaborate and complicated ways so unlike those of her own species. Vampires were impulsive creatures by nature. But she enjoys her games of mischief and deception, the particular ways that she intricately interlaces those precarious webs almost more than the actual trickery itself. She often teetered on a fine line as she contemplates what is an illusion and what is that very fine and fragile line of reality. It was an easy feat to wander off that crooked path within that blur of reality and figment. If it should lead to the decent into madness she didn’t care, it would simply be another adventure to wander.

He seems to pause for but a mere moment, yet his expression remains lax and easy. On first appearances, he appeared nothing but good-natured and yet even she knew better than to simply judge off those initial visuals alone. One thing for certain was to never under any circumstances underestimate a vampire despite their age. Yet there is something about him that seemed young, his expressions seemed to betray that youth.

A dark laugh threatens to escape her and yet it dares not to slip. “Alas, here we both are.” She shrugs a rather idle gesture as a small quirk of her lips formed at the corners of her lush crimson lips, a knowing smile. She raises a brow as if daring him to slip up. Her gaze falls toward the racing cars as she mused. “I still cannot understand how so much power can be controlled in such a small metal box.” It wouldn’t take much to turn that power into a weapon.

He admitted that he rarely ever called anyone by their name. But what stood out was what he called her. ‘Babe’. What was this meaning in the word babe? It almost sounded insulting. She was by no means a child. She places a hand on her hip, a hip that belonged to a woman. She had sinful curves that did not belong to a child. How curious. “This word babe, refers to a child? Tell me, do I look like a child to you?” She is almost goading in the way that she speak as she quirks a brow in a most curious manner, she was not one used to being called a pet name, either endearing or impersonal. Her interactions with others seemed rather brief to grow any kinds of attachment. Except for that one vampire that made her humanity crawl back in full force, but when the tryst was over all that remained was but a crumb. But that crumb was enough to alter this woman in some way. Just enough to truly feel the enjoyment of her mischievous antics and yet somehow curious at just how far she could go. Just how quick on his feet could this ‘James’ think?

The funny thing was he never asked her for her own calling which was all fine by her, but he continues to call her babe she would most certainly have something to say about it. Whether or not James was his actual name was of very little consequence to the vampire at this very woman, after all, she was an illusionist. “Oh do not be discouraged, ‘James’. Perhaps you will simply need to reignite my memory. I assure you won’t catch me forgetting it again.” The nightingale voice sang, reaching out toward him. The truth of the matter was this wicked little illusionist never forgot a face, it was probably how she was able to make her illusions so convincing, the way her mind remembered even the minutest details.

The only way to find out what this vampire wanted from her was to follow him away from the crowd, to keep up this little rouse and catch him at his own game. Yet away from so many prying eyes it would make it far simpler to weave her mystical web around him until it was far too late. She wasn’t entirely sure what she intended to do with him, but she could not pass up on this little game that so easily fell in her lap. It wasn’t common for the attempt to be made on her and it is that reason she finds herself all the more curious and willing to play.

Even as she watches him in what seems like casual observation and yet, in reality, she studies him carefully, even the infinitesimal nuances, the details of his features and the way he seems so at ease in the given situation. It was most certainly not his first time as he attempts to lure another predator in the shadows. She could not help but feel like she was being watched with a similar gaze she gave her victims. It was an odd yet so very exhilarating sensation. She could feel it like it was alive within her, as though an electrical current shoots through every inner corridor of her body. She welcomes it.

For but a moment this dark illusionist appears charming, that playful smile does not betray her as she seemingly falls into his whims. Oh how quickly that face could change, but for now she is simply inquisitive. She bides her sweet time until he slips up or makes that move against her. “I suppose I could always make time for you. Lead the way, James. Perhaps as we walk you can tell me what you have been up to?” Her rich lyrical voice curls about him like her fingers could dance upon his flesh like crawling insects.

How far would this charade go? Petra cannot help but wonder, as the thought fades to background noise rather quickly. How swiftly she plays that part whole heartedly. She could feel her illusions swimming about her head like sharks circling prey, just barely breaking the surface of the dark waters they swam in. She could feel the familiar tug of those powers so close to her fingertips, a gentle vibration that could alter their very reality or at least the appearance of it right before their very eyes. A creation of her own devilish crafting, it could be wicked, or it could be bliss. She could simply set a man on fire on a whim, just to see how a man would react to those flames eating flesh. Not many could handle her illusions that she uses for purposes to toy and tease.

She yearns for that reaction both the good and bad like a craving for dessert. She trembled at its anticipation that it grew as something tangible. Perhaps Petra could cook up a few scenarios, especially for him, for this man of many masks could use a dose of what she had instore. A sudden startling sound of screeching tires rips through their existence that she ignores as they slip away to where the dense crowds grow thinner, and the prying eyes disappearing in shadow. They are like two predators encircling each other with each purposeful step as they engage waiting for the other one to make the first move.




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