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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!

You felt the coldness in my eyes and something I'm not revealing;184.148.32.6Posted On July 19, 2017 at 7:41 AM by Brennan O'Connell

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


“Yes.” He answers her question, his expression removed from his normal devil may care attitude. For a moment the raven haired beauty looked entirely contemplative as if taking a moment to allow his action sink in. He was well aware of the sinking ship he was coasting upon. But it was all worth it, yes? His eyes now rested upon the woman he had been so willing to throw it all away for. Who would have known the Irish man was such a hopeless romantic? “I know.” He uttered almost too softly a sigh escaping his lips, his eyes shifting to the floor before they hardened. “But I have a plan.. I think. Its a pretty ass backward plan.. But I am counting on it working.” He was an act first, think later kind of guy. The need to escape overpowered the need to simply go on in the chaotic hell world he had grown accustomed to for those years. How the years simply blurred together. Just how long could a man survive that kind of torment? How long could he suspend the inevitable plague and eventual death that nipped at his heels? There were more of them than there were of him. Eventually, with those kinds of odds he would surely lose. No matter what kind of skills he possessed. No matter how much warlock power thrummed through his intricate veins. No matter how much he wanted to return home to her. “Lets face it. I’m a dead man either way. At least this buys me some time.” It didn’t occur to him that the demon would come after Serafina.

Walking side by side, the finally made it to her home. It felt good being around Serafina, it always felt good. Even despite those hardened eyes and constantly keeping him on his toes, he relished in her challenges. Oh she was a challenge, just the right kind of catching this wanders attention and yet somehow she found a way to charm him. She charmed him as much as she had ever been. Only it wasn’t entirely certain just how far she allowed herself to fall for the wayward man. He was a scoundrel and yet even after all this time, her hatred is nowhere near what he thought it would be. He would take all that venom if it meant she could forgive him. Not like the man really had a chance to ever prove himself as her boyfriend, he was swept away against his own choices.

As they climb her stairs to her home, she spoke of why he couldn’t get his hands around her mentor’s neck and squeeze until the life left his eyes. He was already claimed by the dead. He scoffs. “Just my luck. At least tell me it was you who kill the useless excuse for a man.” It was clearly obvious how disappointed he truly was not to be able to have his chance to show him the same gratitude the mentor had shown him. Serafina tried to sate him with notions of talking to his ghost. Useless, it was all useless. “Its not worth arguing with the dead. But I wouldn’t mind the chance to gloat. Damn bastard of a man deserves far worse. I hope he suffers in death.” It was a damn pity they couldn’t send him to the place the mentor sent Brennan to, for all eternity. So he could be forced to feel the hell he had to suffer, time and time again. Was it possible to break the dead? If it were possible, he would welcome that chance. But to exchange mere words of hatred, well that just didn’t sound appealing.

Once within the warmth of her apartment, she ordered him to strip. When a woman like Serafina tells you to strip, you take those damn clothes off faster than light itself. Without much thought, other than seeing her naked, he took off those sopping clothes as though he knew she was watching him. He damn well would make a show out of it, if he could coax even a little desire from her, he knew he had a chance. He felt her eyes on him, could she still possibly want him as much as he wanted her? He let those shameless words fall from his lips, suggesting he helped her remove those pesky clothes. Of course, his intentions were to not stop there. He wanted to taste her, to feel what was new and take unashamed pleasure within that familiarity of her delectable body. He offered her an irresistible roguish gleam, that expression that showed his thoughts were far from pure and they were all about Sera. He picked up his clothes from the ground and she takes them. She turned to the sound of his voice, hypnotized by the sway of her hair. He wasn’t really paying much attention to her protest. He wasn’t thinking at all and she was thinking too damn much.

He didn’t want to think, not with all he had gone through. What he needed was something entirely different. What he needed was her to decompress and start up where they left off. Perhaps he was being all too selfish. The raven little minx uses the excuse that she knew him and maybe she wasn’t exactly wrong. That part where they tumbled into bed certainly sounded more appealing than a mere story. Why couldn’t they do the bedroom stuff first and then she could have all the stories she wanted? Internally he groans and yet she didn’t exactly deny him. Did she? She may have told him to sit down at that table but the way she looked at him when he stripped made him think otherwise. That very look said another story did it not? He allows her to disappear up those stairs so she could have a moment. But only just a moment. Right before he took those steps, two at a time. He knew this place well enough to find her bedroom at the top of the stairs.

Almost entirely naked, with only his boxers on he stood within the door frame of where he thought her to be. It was now that he responded to her previous words. “But why can’t we do both? I promise you won’t be disappointed.” There was a hint of tempting desire within the lilt of his all too masculine voice. A twitch of his lips and a raise of his brow in slight question. All he needed her to do was not say no, to just hesitate so he could draw close enough to touch her and light her skin on fire with ecstasy. If he touched her, that was all he needed for her to come undone. He may not have been a good man but he was damn good at this and she knew it. Perhaps there was a chance she missed him and maybe this was the opportunity to see just how much. Can you blame a man for trying?


Brennan O'Connell




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