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    The South

    Although the southern parts of the city might not have the luxuries of the north or the down town vibe of the east, but these suburbs still have their own sort of charm. Here small neighborhood owned shops often run rampant, individuals often know each other by first name. The west is a quaint, quiet part of town. It's the sort of place where children can be seen playing safely on the sidewalks and clamoring in the park. On the weekends in the families often take to the beach to enjoy the warm waters that surround the city.

    What's You'll Find Here

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    Hyde Park

    Hyde Park

    Hyde Place takes up a large part of the Southern side of the city and includes a large playground, several fountains, and a small garden. The park is open from five in the morning till midnight though many shady characters may visit this place while it's technically "closed". The park has also been a venue for several concerts and hosts many holiday related events. Under a full moon, witches are often seen here for the sacred ground beneath the iconic Weeping Beech.

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    The Outskirts

    The Outskirts

    Beyond the city limits and over the bridge lies the deep, dark, and almost impenetrable forest. Often times seen as a way to guard this magical city from the world that surrounds it, many are entirely ignorant of the evil that may creep between those tree trunks. Many were-creatures use the forest for the transformations of their newest members and some even take to hunting here. It isn't particularly peculiar for people to go missing within this forest but once you get through, the rest of the world awaits.

I'm a savage, it's automatic;184.148.45.239Posted On March 05, 2017 at 10:00 AM by Mira Ramos

Mira Ramos


The jaguar was rather dismissive to the mention of there being a hunter problem and he should. It seemed like more and more had a grievance with the supernatural, whether it was because of their innate hatred of those that were different and uncontrollable which enlisted fear. Or perhaps they or a loved one had fallen victim to one of them, after all people loved a good blame game- the actions of one meaning the actions of all. Needless to say, for as many supernatural creatures there was just as many hunters popping up across the globe, enough to make an audible clatter. One day the jungle cat would not have the luxury to be able to ignore what would one day inevitably show upon their doorstep. But that was not tonight and she was in no shape to take on an army of dark hunters and their silver laced weapons. Oh she loathed silver at this very moment with every fiber in her being; she had almost forgotten how badly it hurt when it sunk into her durable skin. Not to mention the cold was not her friend either.

It was damn cold out here, even though it was rather mild of the nights she had been accustomed to previously. She felt the unmerciful bite of winter that prickled against her flesh, making her tuck into herself just a little more, after all there was no better warmth than by her own fur. She observed that sleek oily black coat he possessed which seemed luxuriously soft, not meant for the harsh brutality of winter but still enough to keep him comfortable now. But wolves, they were handcrafted for this and being a were made their blood run hot, it just about boiled in their veins. But snow upon bare skin would make any were creature suffer from goose bumps a the bitter numbness of a constant freeze. But what was a little bite from the cold when the real torment came from her wound, it was a silent relief to have it removed as gently as a man with paws could manage.

She had let the wildness in her consume her, allowed her to take chase in the hunt, forget about cruel reality or what terrible fate she had left behind. The she-wolf was running on true primal energy and it felt freeing for a few blissful moments, for the first time she had ever felt it. No longer in the chains of the pack, no longer forced to do the unthinkable. She could no longer feel the compulsion of her once alpha’s voice in her head, the wolf was no longer enslaved. It was the very first moment she had become one with the wolf and tasted the sweetness of freedom on her tongue. Go figure, she had found herself in chains just as quickly as she had felt alive.

But this man before her did not seem like any ordinary were, he seemed oddly unhindered, at least in this very moment as though there was no malicious dictator telling him what to do. However the woman knew better than to believe him to be innocent. They all had their sins in tow. They all had their burdens they held upon their already weighted shoulders.

She wasn’t entirely sure that she was underestimating him. After all, all she had seen was a lazy little panther that reluctantly chose to give her a hand, er paw. However, Mira was no fool. In that very dismal moment she hadn’t much of a choice but to trust that he wasn’t going to attack her. She was defenseless against the beast, at least unless she was backed into a corner and was forced to fight. Oh she would fight like hell if she had to, it was not Mira’s nature to just roll over and take her punishment. But she was smart, she knew her odds and she would play within those ever so limiting parameters.

He almost seems to ignore her for a time, as if he had forgotten the words to speak. Odd as it were considering he was somewhat chattier before. If only she could peel away the fur and skin, slice open that skull just to have an idea what she was dealing with. It was a mere moment when the panther suddenly and almost in an artfully controlled way, stood up on his hind legs like a human, even though he was more beast. The sickening sounds the change provided was familiar to her. She watched in shameless awe and almost enthralled as fur melted away and the creature’s anatomy shifted into a human with mastered ease. A male took the place of the panther, in all his chiselled glory. She had seen many of a man shift, but never so controlled as easily as changing clothes. He moved toward her before crouching to examine the wound in what seemed a gentle and caring way.

With his response, she offered him a pointed look, well he had better think up of something soon, for her own sanity. What she loathed more than being helpless was being indebted to another she knew nothing about. But she had bigger problems than wondering what she would have to owe the mysterious man that that now stood stark naked and very masculine in all ways in front of her. Not the human form she had imagined the jungle cat to turn into with his mannerism she experience before. Dare she admit that she was surprised and that happened rarely. Mira was a good judge of people, which is why she normally stayed away. She couldn’t help but wonder which form was more dangerous and was yet again reminded of the predicament she had found herself in. Were animals in their human form may seem less dangerous and almost vulnerable, but that was an often fatal error.

“Your conscience, hm?” She nearly laughed, her golden eyes gleamed in a bemused fashion. Even she knew better than that. For if he did, why spend so much time watching up in his perch. She hoped he would save his silver tipped tongue for someone more gullible. Mira much preferred honesty, an incredibly rare talent amongst their kind even though she could smell a lie, there were other ways in toying with the truth. What was his angle? She wondered to herself, tipping her head slightly to the side, the hint of a smile brushed across her full lips an expression as unreadable as a blank one. Yet somehow she remains somewhat intrigued enough or perhaps, delirious enough to entertain such an irrational notion.

Next he rose from his crouched position before he extended a hand. Unaccustomed to a helping hand, she eyed it almost warily as though it suddenly sprout wings and some kind of scales, here flashed a wildness much like her appearance no doubt appeared. She was wild in every sense of the word. “Since when did you start caring so much about my survival jungle man?” She questioned a hint of a tease peppered the feminine lilt in her voice. His motives were unclear, but curiosity killed the cat not wolf, or so the story says. She took his head, steady in her grip. Better on her feet he thought despite being reduced to one leg. She could not help the wince as she helped herself up, avoiding the weight on her injured leg. She found their two warm bodies dangerously close to one another, her injured foot just gently resting on the frozen ground for balance by the tip of her toe. “Tell me, why help a total stranger? And don’t bullshit me and say its for the goodness of your tender beating heart.” Despite her predicament she hardly acted the damsel in distress but it was time to cut some of the bullshit.



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