North
Within the Northern vicinity of the city, the wealthy gather behind meticulously trimmed hedges and high-class architecture. The pristine streets are paved with stone and the storefronts are brightly lit and inviting - for the right clientele. In the North, every establishment is eager to cater to the rich and the wealthy. Many such places are used to the sometimes peculiar requests of the otherworldly but here there is little that money cannot buy - whether it happens to be illegal or merely involves looking the other way. Vampires and Dark Hunters are often found upon these Northern streets, their long lives often contributing to their sizable wealth which allows them the luxuries that the North provides.
What You'll Find Here
Eternity
The VooDoo Room
The Witchery
virtue has a veil, vice a mask
Posted on April 04, 2017 by Raven Clocksworth
The young she-wolf was quite the considerate creature. Always she thought of others, be they friends or complete strangers. It was natural for her to think of others rather than herself. The Were-Komodo Dragon wanted to be within the dark alleyways of the East to do this transaction. Why he wanted to do that she had no idea. However, she was willing to do it his way if only to make him happy. After all he was the client and it was her job to make the client happy. Of course the woman was afraid of doing something wrong, but he seemed satisfied with what she had given him. The threat of Dark Hunters within the city was a natural thing to be wary about. However, she was doing something out of the ordinary, something she wouldn't do. So, with a number of Dark Hunters popping out of nowhere, it made sense for her to be terrified. Running into the strange man was not her intention. In fact she didn't realize he was there in the first place. If she wasn't busy looking behind her then she would have slowed down and did not run into the Were-lion.
As she was sprawled on the ground she managed to pick herself up, getting back to her feet. Even though she was in a daze and was running from the Dark Hunters, her entire concern and focus was upon the man himself, not on her at all. Quickly she murmured her soft apologize hoping indeed that it would be no harm no foul. The sound of the Dark Hunters shouting caused her to cringe, blue-grey eyes flicking to the side to assure herself they weren't too near enough to catch her. That he hadn't said a word to her just yet did cause her to worry, concerned that maybe he would not accept her apology. As his hand raised up she instantly flinched, afraid that he would strike at her. Yet she did not feel any pain. Instead she felt as his calloused fingers gently caress her face, feeling how his fingers slowly raced over her scars. Blue-grey eyes widen in a mixture of sadness and fear. No one touched her face, not even her mate did such a thing. Softly her tone holding a gentle plea to the were-lion.
It was true. Touch to her was a bad thing. For a long time when she was touched there was pain inflicted upon her. For all the abuse and endured and suffered it was understandable that she would not like touch. It had taken months for Raven to learn that her mate would not harm her, his touch alone was allowed. Though it had taken years upon years for the man to touch her and take her as his own. When his hand settled on holding her chin, the woman remained perfectly still, not making a sound, and barely breathing, fearing the worst. When nothing bad happen, and he released her chin she breathed a sigh of relief. As he opens the door, gesturing for her to enter first she nodded a thanks and entered inside. The room was warm and buzzing with excitement, the door shutting the moment the Dark Hunters came by. Easily she slid through the crowd heading over to the bar and grabbing her whiskey drink and the beer that they gave her that was closest to 'ale.' Hopefully he would be satisfied with the drink. Finding a table in the corner she sat down, handing the man his drink, while taking a sip of her own.
Now she could have just gave him his drink and hid within the crowd. However, she was far too kind enough to simply abandon him. Small talk would be fine until she felt the coast was clear for her to return back to the Ark. She would pull back her curly golden-brown hair, marks upon her flesh left behind by her mate, his mark upon her a clear indication that she belonged to another. A soft polite smile was given to him, keeping her attention fully upon him, like any thoughtful soul would do.