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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.

bite your face to spite your nose73.96.164.127Posted On June 08, 2017 at 10:04 PM by cecily grace

i know you're looking for salvation in the secular age, but girl i'm not your savior
(OOC - apologies for how awful this is D: will do better, havent written her in awhile and it shows ;-; )


She watches everything from a distance, her body pressed behind a rather large tree as her fox eyes take in the full size of the werelion, the beast whose scent is so familiar to her. It isn’t long ago that he found her in the park, drowning in her own drunken self misery and trying to hide from the ghosts that called her home. She scents the air like an addict, gasping on the familiar smell of him and revelling in it because it is familiar, and she is so, so alone.

Too soon, her thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of another lion and for a moment, confusion grips her. He smells the same, or almost, as the beautiful creature who had made her feel less like an outcast. Brothers? She edges closer, her body sliding out from behind the coverage of the trees as if she might get a closer look, but not too close - not yet. To be truthful, she is frightened of the second one and still leery of the first, and the thought of creeping up to the gathering now makes her heart thrum a wild, erratic dance against her ribcage.

In the moment, she considers that she should run. They might not have caught her scent yet - she could still make it far away and they might never know that she had watched them from behind her tree, much like a ghost herself. But the fox isn’t the type for cowardice, even when the girl inside might be.

She slinks from her hiding place in a slow, cautious lope, her eyes never leaving the man and the lion and when she draws near, she curves to be closer to the man, the familiarity a comfort. She is still wary of the lion, distrustful of his size and the ability to crush her small body with a snap of those overlarge teeth around her middle. She tilts her nose upwards, towards her equal - the one who hears the voices of the dead, like her.

She shifts on a whim, standing up and shivering against the cold. Had she known that she’d be shifting, perhaps she would’ve brought some clothes along. But she is used to this, the purity of the naked body and relaxes into her human form, her hands intertwining in front of her to cover her more private areas. ”I followed your scent,” she simply says before falling quiet, her lips pursed together in unease. Her human heart is not nearly as brave as the one beating inside that fox chest, and she can feel the regret of her choice beginning to creep in, slow at first and then quickening until her fingers tremble.

She could use a drink, or something more.



wrestle to the ground, god help me now




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