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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!

in a world of pure imagination198.81.129.207Posted On May 17, 2017 at 12:44 PM by pan

p.a.n.
Second star to the left, and straight on til' morning

The chaos was over, but the adventure didn’t stop here. Pan wiped his chin against his dirty sleeve, grey eyes finding the wolf even as her warm tongue washed over him. It was a welcome gesture, and he offered her a weak smile as he reached out to scratch her ears. Looking back over the bloody scene, he shivered once or twice, trying to brush away the haunting sort of feeling that washed over him. But it was over now… they were safe, for now. Let’s get out of here… he whispered quietly to the wolf, blinking against the now-bright sunlight even as she lowered herself and he climbed onto her back without hesitation.

Having never ridden a wolf before, it was quite a curiosity, and he grinned a bit more widely as she took off in a lope to somewhere far from here. Anything would be better than sticking around, and the boy was anything but nervous in her presence now. After all, they’d been through one hell of an ordeal together. If the wolf hadn’t eaten him yet, he considered her a friend.

It wasn’t far fetched for Pan to consider anyone his friend, for the boy was simply a likeable sort. He was an optimist in every sense of the word, giving the world the benefit of his trust and faith. Time and time again, the boy had been burned by life, but it didn’t bother him. Like water off a duck’s back, he would simply shake off the bad experiences, turning toward the future with a brighter sense of anticipation. After all, in Pan’s mind, there were happy memories in every single day. His mother had taught him that, long ago. For all that Pan couldn’t remember his past, he remembered some of her – the way she smelled like honeysuckle and sunshine, the timbre of her laugh, the stories she’d tell him as she tucked the blankets up tight around him.

But he couldn’t recall her face, her name, or why he’d been abandoned here. When she’d died in childbirth with his brother, Pan had simply invented some other story – of fairies, pirates, and Never-Neverland… and he’d lost himself in his own imagination. Instead of drowning in the sorrow of his loss, the child had simply rewritten the story for himself… and now, that was his truth.

Far from here, the she-wolf carried him. Toward the scent of the ocean, toward the sea air that so called to his soul. Even Oliver crept from the backpack, winding around Pan’s neck in a curious sort of way, his seal-brown nose sniffing the brine as they slowed along the ships and waited for what came next.

character © firefly; html © dante.




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