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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!

no one will ever change this animal i have become107.77.97.51Posted On December 13, 2017 at 9:12 PM by Lazarus Wolfe



The last time that the man had ever gone through any sort of training with the men of his family’s council, it had been a few days before that night, when he lost everything except Elain. He could remember spending hours upon hours, pushed ever harder by their father to be faster and hit stronger, though it was always when that temper in Lazarus that had been nothing more than a fire instead of the monster that consumed him now that the young hunter would falter. And just like any real situation, he would be sorely reminded what would happen if ever he made a mistake against a were, witch, warlock, vampire, or fae. Some might think that perhaps his father might have gone a little easier on him that any of the other men in the family, but if anything Tal had been even harder on the young man with messy caramel colored locks that sat there upon that bottom stair as he watched the witch working vigorously, perhaps even ragefully on those obstacles that she’d surrounded herself by. He could remember one particular session against his father when he’d moved too quickly, the power being his swing suffering most as it only just seemed to tilt that precise balance of the older man who was even quicker to retaliate with a harder blow that landed perfectly on its mark, the hunter’s shoulders in an attempt to knock his son off balance. Sure enough, that was exactly what happened, and Lazarus had stumbled only to crash into the sand of the ring that Tal decided would prove to be particularly challenging for the hunter with so much potential still to be unlocked. No sooner than Lazarus hit the ground with a grunt was the older hunter upon him, that strong fist crashing down on the younger man’s chest with a force that had been enough to leave Lazarus gasping for the air that was knocked out of him.”You need to be better than that, Lazarus”, came those thundering baritones of his father, gaze hardened as the young hunter gathering himself to stand, one hand on his chest for a moment.

He was driven harder and harder, and with every failed attempt to overpower his father, the anger in the young hunter rose and it was when that fire in him began to burn that his moves began to lack in accuracy as that red mist would threaten to settle over him. It wasn’t that he was mad at the man that worked diligently to train him, but more it was anger at himself for being too slow or too light in each planned strike, and it certainly didn’t help when his father would lash out at him, telling him that if he couldn’t follow through with his counters and his strategy that there would be more than just his life at stake until he could get his shit together. Those words had only seared into the young man even deeper, growing that anger and it was in finding his weakness that Tal only continued to use that verbal assault on Lazarus.”Your anger will be your end unless you can learn to contain it, Lazarus”, rang those hard words in the back of his thoughts as his past came to wrap around his present. How he’d tried and tried, and still, it was never enough for Tal Daray of the Daray council… The disappointment in his father’s gaze, it was forever engrained into Lazarus’ mind. Those harsh and unforgiving words hardly meant to truly wound him, etched forever into the back of his thoughts when those memories he constantly worked to suffocate beneath all the liquor and sex only for that temporary reprieve… It was enough to further corrode those bars that contained his rage to a point where one day, there might not be any holding it back. For whatever reason, watching as the white-haired woman relentlessly struck out against those training tools, it summoned up all the unpleasantries that he fought to forget.

Brilliant blue eyes hone in on the hunter and he knows as soon as that there was no slinking away now. Good going, dumbass. She prowls over to him and it takes more focus than is necessary not to allow his dark forest eyes to shift down to those hips that sway as she moves ever nearer. She drawls lazily at him and gives that wry little grin he just wants to wipe right off her face, gaze narrowing sharply as she moves one slender hand to settle over her hip in that tell-tale attitude that most women these days seemed to have. Most days, he would have readily accepted that challenge, but he refused to give her that satisfaction.”Morning, darling dearest, he growls back, though he hardly affords her that usual wolfish grin. She comments on how he’d slept well, but she didn’t really know that he’d been in and out of consciousness through those dark pre-dawn hours, and he certainly didn't feel like sharing that with her either. That aggravating voice of hers crashes into his senses yet again in that dry sarcasm he just loved hearing and so he gives a casual shrug as if his criticism was something he was content to offer her free of charge. What he doesn't expect was for her to suggest that he train with her. Rising a brow in skeptical question, she moves out towards the center for the warehouse like he'd somehow said yes when, last he checked, he hadn't said a damn thing. He makes no move to get up and follow her though and if anything he slouched farther back with elbows now propped onto the step behind him. He was done being led around like some dog on a leash. He is aboutique to refuse her when she glances over her shoulder with a wicked smile on those lips of hers and almost on cue he can feel himself bristling at her quiet laughter."I already told you, that was a cheap shot", he snarls as he remains reclined. She turns on her heels and contunues to prod athe him and he can feel that temper rattling against its cage. He hated how she could get under his skin like no other.

He's nearly about to make himself even more comfortable just to spite her when that next string of words, accompanied by her amused grin has him practically snarling at her."Of course I'm not", he snaps back in dangerously low tenor tones as he feels his jaw clench beneath the force that it took for him to not storm over there and throw a punch at that ridiculously pleased face of hers. Then, again, she beckons him with that damn finger of hers like she were calling a mongrel to her side and that's when he can't bite back that temper, forcing himself to a stand, before removing that unzipped jacket and stalking over to meet her at the center of the training ring. This is so fucking stupid... What am I, some goddamn pet!? Stopping feet from the white-haired bane of his existence, he crosses those toned arms over his bare chest, dark forest eyes narrowed with all the displeasure any one gaze could ever manage to hold without crossing over into the category of being malicious or cruel. It was obvious he was pissed, and yet here he was. He lifts a single brow before giving her a once over, unable to shake the feeling like this was rigged but he didn't dare voice it. It just be one more thing she'd hold over his damn head and he wasn't sure how much more he could stand."Fine, sure. I'll play along", he replies, agreeing to her terms and conditions only to take into brief account the darkness that flickers over her brilliant blues. Finding his center of gravity, he is quickneeling to swing his leg out with fiercesome force with the idea in mind that he would see about throwing her off balance like she'd done to him. This was just a test though as he begins to forget that strategy just as his father had always told him, dark forest gaze locking with near lethal intent onto each and every movement that lithe frame of hers would make in wordless answer to his "ready, set, go" attack, like a wolf nipping at the heels of a caribou to make it start the chase. After all, half the pleasure he took in such things was in watching the other's reaction and countering with a ravenous want for them to make one small little mistake. He was sure that she'd hardly make one at all, but oh he greedily hoped that she did.
LAZARUS WOLFE DARAY
image by Andrew robles



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