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    The West

    The western part of the city is often home to the poorer residents. Here there is a certain grunge that permeates the town from the graffiti on the once cleaned brick buildings to the broken and unmaintained architecture. Crime runs high within the western half of town, making it the home of supernatural gangs of illicit activities. Such activities are rarely reported however, and most residents are distrustful of individual's of authorities, instead letting the powerful supernatural beings sort things out amongst themselves. Be careful wandering the Western streets after the sun falls.

    What's You'll Find Here

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    Noah's Ark

    owned by Aiden Tetradore
    1 employees

    Noah's Ark

    Resting upon the harbor, Noah's Ark appears to be little more than an abandoned cargo ship. Accessible from an entrance hidden in the shadows, The Ark is a veritable Were-playground that specializes in fighting tournaments for all creatures great and small. With both singles and doubles tournaments to compete in, the title of Ark Champion is hotly contested amongst the Were population. If anything illegal is going on in the city it's sure to be happening within the back rooms or behind the ring-side bar.

    Owner Aiden Tetradore

    Co-owner Tobias Cain

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    Warehouse District

    Warehouse District

    The warehouse district rests just upon the harbor within the city. Many of the warehouses belong to corporate companies although some are used for less the legal means. Be careful when wandering this district at night for many groups meet within those dark, dilapidated buildings. There are also whispers of hard to obtain goods being sold behind those closed doors but you have to know who's who to get an in!

there is nothing left to save; 24.34.233.58Posted On May 23, 2017 at 6:52 PM by calliope


Calliope pauses at the edge of the couch and when she shifts her eyes to Kearn her stare is penetrating. There's caution in her gaze, caution and warning. And her lips when they tilt into a mocking smile are tense and ice cold. “Everything can be a threat.” Her flesh crackles and those scars stretch and collapse as she walks by him with nothing more than a whisper. “I will underestimate nothing.”

The air behind her smells like char and the wood at her feet turns black, black, black. The bathroom door shuts behind her and it feels like a ending.

She's strange against the backdrop of humanity. Calliope's too feral for the walls and metal and glass and her skin itches with the way the room turns to a cage in her mind. The bones in her body are made to run and hunt and explore the ends of every world there is. She's a different creature than Flora and it's obvious when she watches her like a monster in a flower garden.

“I lived in your dreams.” At her side the horn sword catches a flare of lamp light and it almost seems to pulse with light. She clings to it even as the girl walks from the bathroom and she's alone for the first time in this new place. Only then does she look to the mirror and places her horn across the sink.

Everything about this face is awful, it's too sharp, too pale and too tender. Calliope misses her sinew and sweat and battle scars. This body is tiny in comparison. This mortal flesh is nothing to iron, tooth and claw. The flare of her hips seems brittle. To her this body is made for failure and she turns to the shower, eager to see if she will drown in the water and die back in the world she longs for.

It's a challenge to figure out the knobs but finally she gets the shower boiling and the water runs pink with blood.

Calliope doesn't know enough to use a towel and the clothes are still damp with water when she leaves (her horn ever in her fist) the bathroom to join them again in the living room. She laughs at Kearn on his couch; it's a brittle sound full of rage and hopelessness. “There is nothing you can 'do' with me. I am not a thing for you to decide on.” The silver in her eyes flashes with lighting and rage as she moves between them.

She's a wild thing in their walls and her body twitches and burns as she walks from wall to wall, tracing the boundries of their cage. “I remember loss and rage.” Her fingers trace out patterns of unicorns and lions and monsters on the dusty walls. Over and over she paints in the dust until their cage is alive with things greater than their mortal bones. “I was a unicorn and a lion too.” She pauses and her memories dance away like whispers of burning paper lanterns. “I think.” On and on she walks their walls, burning in her hell of human flesh and bone.

“I was death and I had just found my vengeance. The storm above me grew too wild for my bones to hold and now I'm here, in this place of dust, metal and stone.” Suddenly her feet stop their pacing and the wall at her back seems frantic with dust drawings of this that seem impossible and eternal all at once. “Do you have magic here?” Hope is alive in her voice-- weak and barely there.

Calliope would sell all her rage to be a unicorn again.



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