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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!

I'm still here with a fire burning, burning inside;184.148.34.30Posted On June 05, 2017 at 12:10 PM by Brennan O'Connell

all that is gold does not glitter
not all who wander are lost


That rugged man hardly noticed the rain that tried with all its might to soak through his leather coat and entirely failed despite its best efforts to permeate that leather. That very jacket had been his saving grace when dealing with the elements of that desolate dimension. His hair however, was now longer than she remembered it last, even as it was wet, water beading down as it trailed down the side of his scruffy face. Brennan could sense that very deserved rage that boiled within that petite frame of a woman. He couldn't say he quite minded that fire. She was entirely stubborn, the way she refused to play with his usual antics and he couldn’t exactly blame her. As much as he hated it.

The Irishman could hardly believe his eyes that she was standing right before him, despite the very way he had lost control of himself earlier. He wasn’t safe to be around and yet he simply could not help that yearning to be in her presence. What had meant to be but a glance had turned into an all-out confrontation and he wasn’t prepared for it. Not when his fight-for-survival damaged brain hadn’t even fully adjusted to being back yet. He had no rational reasoning following her, watching her the way he did, it was purely his own selfish need to make sure she was in once piece and perhaps fill in the gaps of his absence. It was all too foolish to think he could gather the information he wanted in only a day of simply watching her. He was only causing more harm to himself and tormenting the very woman that he now gazed upon as he shattered any kind of resolve that Serafina had created for herself. He was a selfish fool and yet he didn’t care.

Serafina did not know just how dangerous this man was. He was destroyed on so many levels, he was no use to a single soul and yet like a marionette he found himself unable to be in control of his own actions. She scowls at him and no matter what kind of rage-filled faces she made he could hardly trust his very eyes. She was beautiful no matter what face she made and that filled him with an inescapable ache of just what he had lost. He had wondered if she looked for him, if she even searched for him? Did she scry? Or perhaps she had been so eager to believe that he had left her upon his own merit, just another pirate passing through. Perhaps he had earned that reputation of a womanizer, but with her, it was different on all levels. Right from that night she patched him up in the park he was doomed even if he didn’t know it yet. He peered down at her steely eyes steadily and glimpsed at that hatred which reflected within them. Yet it still wasn’t enough to deter him.

He could not help that roguish quirk of his lips as she snapped. Perhaps she was right, at least he could never harm her on purpose. She suddenly lifts that umbrella, using it like a poker that she does not wield it gently, the gesture surprises him. As if poking him in the face with an umbrella was enough to keep him away, he contemplates this to himself amusedly. He found it so difficult to allow himself any kind of control around her, but with all that strength he could muster, he reluctantly offers her just barely enough space, even if only so very temporarily. He does not act like a man who had just been caught spying or following the woman, invading her precious privacy. He shook his head slowly, inching just little closer into that umbrella, pressing into it simply willing to take some of that abuse for now.

However, it was a short-lived moment as he takes that tip of that umbrella between pinched fingers as if squashing an irritating bug, lifting it up and away so it pressed against the wall behind her. He doesn’t remove his hand as it pins the umbrella to that brick wall practically becoming an overbearing cage once more in a mere instant without physically touching her. “So very cynical, Serafina.” The deep baritone of his voice uttered amusedly, the lilt of his accent flowing with ease. He is an unabashed man, even as he simply grins at her as though he wasn’t just caught. But how did she know he was there outside the window of her shop? He was all but invisible by that tree, he couldn’t even make Serafina out within that shop. He simply chose not to answer her. He wasn’t going to admit that he was tailing her no matter how hard she pressed. “Are you really that unhappy to see me?” He tips his head slightly, that riling tone is back, hiding any kind of vulnerability of that war that rages within. His ego could take some hits, even though her words could be nothing short of a blow that could cut him deeper than anyone he has ever known.

He noticed the way she shivered, noticed how sopping wet she had become from that rain he had hardly noticed. He knew she would demand answers he wasn't quite sure of the answers to. Where would he even start? “I think I will need a drink or three in order to give you the answers that you want, love. But I am sure we can come to an arrangement.” He paused, wondering how he was going to get out of this one and failing. Yet that devilish man can’t seem to pry himself away. He would do them both a lot of favours if he had. However, she pushes away so suddenly and his roving eyes watch her as she does with that graceful movement only Serafina is capable of. As she walks away from him, he finds himself drawn to her like a fish on a line, moving to catch a glimpse of that brief view as she walks away.

Brennan would never be able to deny that small invitation she offered, even if he knew just how on edge and dangerous he was and that dread of explaining what happened. It was like an army of fire ants marching within his skull. He didn’t even know how to form the words or if he was even ready to relive that hell her very mentor cast him away to. He couldn’t help but wonder where that devious mongrel was. Regardless, he did owe her all those answers even if he could capsize his boat with tumultuous waters that it brought him internally.

Impatiently she spat, asking if he was going to come. For but a moment the man was almost dumbfounded with that offer still. He certainly didn't anticipate that. He sighed in his defeat, any hesitation was a fleeting thing. Serafina must have known he could never actually deny her. “I will go with you.” The rich baritones of his voice were oddly soft as they reach for her. “With one condition, that you put this on.” There was a glimmer of that smooth talker still in there. Apparently, you couldn’t take the pirate out of the man. He shrugged off that jacket from his shoulders before speaking again, opening it so she could slip her drenched arms into that dry trench that was still felt warm from his body heat. It wouldn’t help the fact like she looked like she took a dip in the harbour, but it would at the very least help keep that chill from biting her more than it had to. Perhaps he felt a bit guilty he made her that way, even though he couldn't help but watch how that fabric clung to her physique. The man clearly was not thinking, that mark that the devil branded with him was now exposed as it steamed from the contact of that cool rain.

It smelled of him and that unique aroma of that desolate nightmare dimension. The white noise that had continuously showered his mind seemed to settle when she was around and even more so when the chime of her voice beckoned him so. He could not help but question himself, wonder if he could navigate through this. They began to walk onward in the direction of her home, running an idle hand through his wet hair before a sigh escaped him. His eyes peer out in front of him, ignoring the rain that managed to find him. “First, you need to tell me what you know about demons.” It would prolong the inevitable at least until they were alone and in that much-coveted privacy.

Brennan O'Connell




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