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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

I met the devil and I sold my soul.;184.148.34.212Posted On July 10, 2017 at 2:09 PM by Brennan O'Connell

all that is gold does not glitter
not all who wander are lost



The man certainly knew he had his fair share of problems, he still didn’t know how he was going to deal with his not so little demon problem. His mind often dwelled to that desolate place of horror, where terror reigned supreme. He swore he saw creatures in every shadowy crevice as though they were about to jump him at a bat of an eye. His most recent case was when a small little innocent sheltie lunged to bark at him and he nearly decapitated the damn high pitched thing, because when it lunged at it appeared like a creature with the intent of going for his jugular. The blade appeared as fast as his ability so created it. The warlock’s gift was dangerous in times when the dense population of the city encroached on him in this state of mind he was in. He was never such a complicated man, he was a man of confidence that could sell dirt to a poor man. One that could own any room there was. A man that had no room for doubt in his razor sharp mind nor the terrors that lurked outside his door. He could swear the demon that he owed a favour to was playing tricks on him, mind tricks that were meant to drive him insane. He needed to learn more about his magical capabilities to ward off the creatures that desired to drive him quite literally insane.

He found himself walking to the bar, for the umpteenth time that week, feeling the need to chase down some of those books he practically buried himself within. There wasn’t really a how-to manual to defeat a demon except warnings saying not to trust, summon, or become indebted to one. Figures he had to read that after, you know, making the actual barter. But he would do it all over again if only to come back to this earth, an earth where he knew Serafina still called these streets her home, even if it were not alongside him. It would take some time to get used to a world where she rejected him. The alcohol was the only way to fill that void inside of him that ached, that place that was dark and cold like the inside of a corpse. He had never felt so beaten down before, even though one could never tell.

Today felt entirely more difficult than other days in which he couldn’t quite understand. That burning edge had caused the man to be far more antsy than usual. Not to mention the massive repairs his boat needed from those lost years of neglect caused from him being away. That damn hell dimension that destroyed so much dared to try and steal his sea lady as well. Hell no. But it was all but taking water now and he had a lot of work and far too many other problems suffocating him. It wreaked havoc on his once sane mind, everything he once and still cared for might as well have been vanquished from his grasp. Even his body suffered from the aftermath of a state of perpetual hell would give you, his muscular form peppered in an assortment of scars and now his very soul was in question.

He only hastens his pace, his mind wandering to unpleasant places where the light was all but suffocated out into nothingness and died. Besides his tumultuous headspace, the evening seemed lovely and kind. With barely a cloud in the sky, that one could almost make out the stars. But who were they kidding? In the city, the light pollution cancelled out most of the solace that the sky could ever offer as if consuming the very light the sky had to offer. He still wore his favourite leather trench coat, that thing could survive nuclear wars, a roughed up pair of dark grey faded jeans that he often wore for working on his boat. But he was not dressing to impress, he unsystematically threw on some casual attire, after all, he was only head out for a drink or 5. Surely they had to be open.

That was when it happened, just as he made it to the park, he spotted a woman on a swing. There was something morose about her, contemplative and sad. He wondered if she noticed him. However, what noticed him made the mark singed upon his inner forearm glow a vibrant electric glow. Shit, that can’t be good. The sound of a loud screech could be heard in the quietude of night. This was no mere play of his eyes, this had to be real. It certainly sounded it.

On one hand, he was grateful it wasn’t the demon that gave him this mark and on the other, he wondered what the hell one of these things was doing here. How the hell did it find him? He was on earth, another dimension it wasn’t like you could just walk right on over. What were these things doing here? The creature bellowed out a mighty shriek once more as it obliterated most objects in its path, sending the splinters of wood in an indiscriminate disarray. It was an ugly looking thing about three feet tall, four legs and all teeth. It peered right at him as if catching his scent, with murder in his glowing red eyes. “Shit.” Was all the warlock had time to utter before it barrelled after him full tilt.

Yet Brennan’s silvery blue eyes looked toward the woman. “Hey girl? I really think you should get outta here.” He hollered, his irish accent filling the air with warning to the innocent, hoping she wouldn’t get sucked up in the crossfires of his chaos. Somehow, this had to be his fault. He just knew it in his bones.

Brennan O'Connell




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