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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

needle and a thread, your better off dead101.180.53.52Posted On February 28, 2017 at 11:05 PM by Arlo

Arlo James

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


He continued to linger in those shadows and behind his downed victim, his affinity stirring within his fingertips, entirely ready to fire another web else release the electrical current in the one that already bound the vampire’s legs. Age of otherwise electricity affected all equally. Arlo knowing entirely well he was capable of hurting the other man if it came to it and yet an enraged vampire was rarely a pleasant creature to deal with. The calmer he could keep his victim the better. This one, for the most part, hardly even seeming put out by the situation he found himself in, Arlo’s head tilting in vague curiosity. Weird guy. Oh well, he was hardly going to complain about a vampire being calm for once. Even so, the young man was hardly a fool, those vibrant blue eyes watching as the heavier man attempted to right himself and test the strength of those unbreakable webs coils that bound his ankles. Arlo entirely vigilant for any show of affinity that might act to strike against him. The moment his victims hands lifted from that gravel however that almost overwhelming scent of blood seemed to fill there air. It was barely a scratch and yet within that moment the entirety of his attention fixated upon those perfect ruby pearls that welled to the surface like the last drop of water in a desert. They were all he could see, all he could smell. Arlo stepping forward almost without thinking now though that hooded jacket cast those shadows across his features all the same.

He had gotten so much better this past year. He had learned to control that hunger that had plagued him in his first vampiric years and seen him tear more than one person apart in some horrific desire for that blood. He had learned to ignore those mortals, mostly, had learned to exist around them without losing what fragile threads of his humanity remained and yet an open wound, no matter how small, was a weakness still. That blood sung! Yet how he hated himself for it. How he loathed it. Arlo hesitating if only briefly, struggling desperately to maintain some control and yet even the pupils of his eyes had dilated at that simple scent that wafted on the breeze. His body shifting automatically into that almost predatory state. He was a veritable slave to it still. No matter how hard he tried. He always lost in the end. Always. All that progress coming undone each time someone bled. The blood of his own kind far more alluring then any mortal and yet with his own Maker gone he had been left to navigate this world alone. Arlo teaching himself as much as he was capable off when no other vampire would dare have him near. Such a tangled web he wove!

He paused almost beside the other vampire now, those words almost entirely lost upon him, his gaze fixated upon that hand as Arlo moved abruptly to crouch beside him and yet just out of his reach still. Self-preservation, in Arlo at least, tended to be one of the man’s more potent traits. His hand reached automatically for Malek’s own, cool fingers encircling the older vampire’s wrist, lifting that hand suddenly upward before pausing to brush the gravel from his palm with an almost delicate care. Some of the blood sweeping onto his own fingers with that gesture.

“Your like….bleeding, do you know that?”

His words were almost detached. Arlo so focused on Malek’s hand alone- the vampire perhaps displaying just how young he was in vampiric years in that moment as he abruptly lifted his own fingers to his lips, licking those smears of blood from them with little thought. Ah that taste! That hand that gripped Malek’s wrist suddenly tightened like a vice- his own strength making itself known as Arlo lifted the man’s hand to his lips, his tongue running the length of that palm, hardly caring whether Malek was offended or otherwise, his own power at the ready to pin the man to the ground if he tried to escape to vigorously. His head tilted then, lips parting abruptly, the points of his fangs resting against the soft inner skin of Malek’s wrist with every intention of biting down and injecting that sedative right into the other man- Arlo but mere seconds from pressing down those teeth.




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