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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.

THEY SAY IM A GOD 69.246.153.243Posted On April 17, 2017 at 7:08 PM by IÓRKÆLL DVÆRG




Back and forth, back and forth,

The movement of his tongue gliding along the bloodied confines of his prey’s inner belly is rhythmic, a soothing meditation as his body calms from the thrill of the chase. How different he is compared to how he was merely moments prior. For in those moments prior he was a ravaging beast, canines shredding muscle and tendons like paper, chest draped in blood from his kill, brutal sounds of murder and innocence being taken far too loud in this quiet land he resides in. the change was slow, and steady. His volatile mind calming to a dull hum as the voices simmer from their fiery ravenous hunger to a satisfied song. He could handle these moments, the momentary chances to gain a euphoric almost high feeling.

These feelings never lasted long enough leading him to kill again and again.

The russet lion continues to lick away the blood and loose bits from his kill, tongue lapping up the nutrients he needed to surprise. Too much of the rich stuff and his human form would get sick, stomach unable to handle it. For now though, he shall indulge himself for he has traveled deeply into the outskirts to find this meal. The prey wasn’t foolish, they knew the dark presence that lingered here. Though they couldn’t always see him, they could feel him. His aura was dark, creating shadows upon shadows and encasing him in a black abyss.

He was the stuff of nightmares and yet as of now, he looked like a tame cat, simply basking in his victory.

Only he is interrupted, eyes flick casually to the pale ghost of a bird as head rises to turn and face into its beady red eyes. His lower jaw goes slack, saliva and blood mixing into a beautiful pink that falls from his hairs in streams. Paw lifts before landing on his meal heavily, he digs his talons into it, pulling it closer to him as a low rumble flows from him. It does nothing, the pale crow begins to feed on his kill. He watches in disbelief, talons tightening on the doe’s flesh. Then she speaks, her voice flooding into his mind like death’s fingers and locking onto his mind. This cannot be. She smells of rotting flesh and flowers, a mixing aroma that would only be delectable to the likes of him. At her question he merely grumbles like the old grump he is but she is there, staring at him with those beady eyes. His paw lifts from the body, swiping at her in annoyance. “it isn’t flashy, and it doesn’t draw attention to my domain meaning normally,” he pauses as lip curls slightly, “i am left alone.” he finishes, his rumbling baritones rolling into her mind like a freight train.

‘besides, the things that go on here do not need any more attention than they already gain.” he adds, “ironic that you are a white crow, does this mean you are pure?” a mockery of her is said before his head is turning away from her to return to his meal. He resumes his licking, back and forth, back and forth.

IÓRKÆLL DVÆRG
THE VIKING KING


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