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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'll take the high road like i should101.180.51.10Posted On September 07, 2017 at 4:54 AM by Tobias


There was something almost soothing about that storm. For all the way he detested that rain he enjoyed the pattern of that sound, that rain against their window thrumming over and over until his pencil moved almost in time with it, that muttering conversation that only he truly seemed to understand continuing into the semi-gloom of that early morning. The sky so dark and overcast that it was nearly impossible to tell whether or not it truly was morning. Tobias’ own gaze distinctly dark and shadowed from that lack of sleep and yet- that gangly deviant had never truly slept well. The boy prone to sleeping whenever and wherever to mood should strike him. Most of his nights spent wandering alone within the darkness of that ship only to return to that hammock just before the sun rose else collapse on the rug in Tetradore’s room or beneath his Alpha’s bed entirely. The boy content to interchange where he slept each night as if determined to share his attention between the two. That sound of Raven stirring so at last saw his own gaze lifting, those fathomless dark eyes watching her before he rolled onto his stomach upon the bed. That book was laid out before him once more, his coloured pencils continuing to scratch at that page, his head resting within his hand in that almost boyish fashion.

That soft sound of his mate’s voice saw him pause again, his head tilted as if assuring himself she was entirely awake, his eyes meeting her own before he seemed to contemplate that actual question. His features frowned readily then, the boy glancing from that book to his mate and back again as if struggling to comprehend those words and formulate an answer. ‘Why’ so often an entirely difficult query for the man to contemplate if only because it required that depth of thought and understanding of his own presence of being. Things Tobias so often disliked to even attempt to consider if only for the effort they demanded of him. That frustration tugging briefly at him before his features so suddenly shifted once more into a nearly blank look. A crooked grin of sorts suddenly finding him.

“I am over here….because I need…..to draw.”

This, he was sure, was perfectly logical. The boy unable to fully explain the flatness of the bed and the comfort it provided him as he worked. Tobias so simply assuming Raven would understand these things as she often did. That query as to whether or not he was angry seeing his head tilt all over again. Emotions were….difficult things. Foolish, stupid things he was sure. The boy prone to frustration if only because those complex emotions within himself were like a language he could not understand even though he recognised them as words. That ability to understand his own emotions was distinctly lacking and too, that ability to monitor them that children so tended to learn within their formative years had all been lost upon him. After all, he had been veritably alone until near four years of age, the boy making near astounding progress in the wake of his adoption into Tetradore’s family before the destruction of that some years later had left the boy alone once more and veritably frozen- in some aspects- at that age he had lost so very much. That ability for empathy in turn was perhaps decidedly limited. Tobias struggling to place those emotions within others and yet he was becoming….better. Slow though it was. The return of his family- of Tetradore and Raven and Nadya- fractured though it was, seeming to have restarted that learning once more. Even if only to please them. Still, that very concern for her ‘angry’ seemed to tug at him. His pencil paused again, lashings of dark hair falling within his gaze.

“I…am not……angry…..I am…..I am…..”

Those words were difficult, forced, Tobias searching rapidly for that word he wanted. A frustrated groan rising within him then and yet it was hardly directed towards his mate in that moment. One hand balling slightly into a fist, that sudden flare of gold seeming to find his gaze before abruptly disappearing once more. That single moment of clarity seeming to have found that word all the same.

“Wavy.”

That this was, perhaps, not at all the word Raven had anticipated remained to be seen. The boy clearly delighted with himself as that grin returned, one hand gestured to make an up and down, ocean wave sort of motion. What on earth this was supposed to mean was perhaps destined to go unanswered, Tobias finishing that colouring then only to close that book, the boy near clutching it to his chest as if it were truly a favoured position as he seemed to near consider that decision for several moments. The deviant staring blankly at that floor in silence before suddenly lifting those dark eyes back to his mate.

“Birdie…..can come here….now.”

His hand pointed to that space on the bed beside him. Tobias moving to sit near cross legged now, his gaze held with clear anticipation upon the woman as he waited for her to sit just where he had instructed. The boy oblivious still, to the fashion his own anxiety had so mislead the woman to believe he was mad at her in any sense. Tobias assured those words that he was not had entirely resolved that situation. Tobias, after all, was nothing if not honest. Birdie had not made him mad. His words informing her of just that. Raven at last making herself comfortable on that bed beside him, that book still clutched to his chest as if he remained distinctly wary of it in some fashion, as if putting it down might see some harm brought to it before it was almost abruptly held out to Raven then.

“It is….a present for….you. Biride….likes books.”

Those broken words echoed against that thunder and half-light and rain. That leather-bound book, clearly handmade, fastened with that old-style clasp. The boy evidently content to allow her to open it now before he reached for the first page, smoothing it with his hand in a fashion almost gentle and yet determined all at once. That Birdie must start from the beginning surely clear. That first page decorated with a yellow cat of sorts, one dotted in black spots with blurred edges and unclean lines and placed besides an equally childish drawing of a black and grey dog like creature drawn fair more clearly and well, his finger lifting to point to each in turn.

“This is….Birdie and this is….Tobi and this is….place with nets and fish that….comes first.”

That the boy had drawn that day they had met, beside the harbour, was surely clear. That scene simple in appearance and yet the time it had surely taken to draw and colour each piece was readily evident, that page flipped then to a sky painted dark, one covered in stars, that entire page coloured in night and stars and little else.

“This is….time we….played in the field.”

It was curious perhaps that this drawing, unlike the first, so lacked anything other then stars, even that field itself surely missing, those stars imperfect and blurred in places that sky a mix of black and blue and purple as if he could hardly decide what colour it was. A single image of a wolf within it once more, this one, this Raven, drawn into those stars. That wolf far more clearly painted then any other part of the picture. Just as it had been before. That memory….through his own eyes. The memory of that night as Tobias saw it. As his mind remembered it. His mind so understanding that location and yet it was stars alone that lingered within his thoughts. This, perhaps, a truly rare insight into his ability to remember. The boy so clearly remembering each of those occasions and yet it was only parts of them he recalled- images like still frames that let him see. The scene and Raven herself lingering within each of them. That page flicked then to that third one. This one grey and cloudy and almost blurry once more as if he had smeared charcoal with his fist across that page, that outline of what was clearly a curly haired girl seeming to stand within it like fog. Raven, once more, embedded within that picture.

“There was rain when….asked Birdie if….wanted to date.”

He remembered that bag of dates it seemed even if that scene seemed to hold nothing but a memory of rain and fog and Raven. This picture like the others in a way perhaps hardly noticed and yet it seemed each picture so held an almost singular theme. He remembered…..so little and yet so much all at once. Those scenes blurry. Those fishing boats and fish in the first picture nothing more but smudges of colour like flashes of memory, the second starry night much the same, unclean lines like blurry photograph out of focus, that third picture a blue and yet in each picture Raven alone remained….perfect. The focus in every image. Whether wolf or human she appeared in each of those scenes, somehow, just the way she had been on those occasion themselves. He remembered her. With a clarity the world he had drawn lacked. She alone was perfect in those imperfect drawings. The boy flipping another page then, this one a blur of green and red and white and blue. Christmas. What was so clearly Tetradore and Nadya and Raven drawn amongst those blurry greens and reds and blues that boy associated with that memory. Another page, another scene. This one a wolf alone so drawn with far more colour then the blur around her and those red lines that’s slashed across, representing the ropes of the fighting rings. That wolf drawn in the very centre, that necklace he had given her clear about her neck. The only clear part of that picture once more that seemed clear within his memory. Always Raven. Always. His fingers tracing that wolf then, his gaze intent upon that almost childish drawing and yet one he had clearly worked on. His words barely a whisper. This, perhaps, simple and undeniable proof of what Tobias had so simply always known and Raven so continued to deny within herself. He simply did not see her flaws. He so only her.

“I….always….remember you.”

Several more pages still waiting to be turned in that book…..





madness, as you know, is like gravity: all it takes is a little push




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