South

The southern part of the city has a chic family-oriented sort of charm to it. Here, small locally owned shops run rampant, neighbors often know each other by name, and the monthly socials are an event not to be missed. In the South, children can often be seen safely playing in the park or on sidewalks and in the weekends, families often take to the beach to enjoy the warm waters surrounding the city.

What You'll Find Here

Ascension Center of Equitation
Hyde Park
Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium
The Outskirts
The University of Sacrosanct

Ain't life just awful strange


Posted on November 08, 2020 by Gia Jones
South

a new world hangs outside the window
beautiful and strange
it must be I've fallen awake
I must be



Despite the rush of the air conditioning and the stale musk of the dank bar all around her, Buffy could still smell - and feel - the faint layer of sea salt in her hair and on her bare arms. It made her feel calm, or at least it was a physical reminder to find some semblance of calm - that's why she had taken the long stroll out to the beach today in the first place. The thin dark hunter breathed a deep sigh as she caught a whiff of it now, and feigned a short-lived smile as her gaze settled back on Alistair.

It was clear the younger hunter could read her stand-offish nature, and when he began to offer up a defense as to why he would devote his time to drawing a sandcastle, well, Buffy felt guilty all over again. She was the one who engaged him, after all. She was the one who convinced him to follow her to the bar. And here they were.

She offered Alistair a short-lived, but somewhat stunned, smirk when he ordered a glass of bourbon. She was impressed. "I didn't take you for a hard liquor type." She offered casually, as her big brown eyes followed the bartender's every move like a predator stalking its prey.

She nodded in acknowledgement despite the cringe that came when Alistair mentioned his maker. It made sense that he only really knew the being who turned him. But the whole premise of having a "maker" was sorely lost on Buffy. She never knew hers.

"That make sense." She mumbled as the bartender returned with their drinks. She wrapped one hand around the bottle of cold beer before quickly retreating, and grabbed for the whiskey instead. "Are you working yet? You'll meet more of us eventually, then." She offered.

Buffy brought the glass to her lips and swallowed hard. Moisture gathered in her eyes and she blinked several times before exhaling slowly. Then she gulped again, finishing what was left in the glass. The dark hunter then pivoted on her stool, her movements looser than before, as her knees swung to point at her newfound drinking buddy. "So what's your shitck then. Everyone's got one, at least." She asked, raising an eyebrow curiously. A short silence fell between them. "Mine is this." She said with a somewhat devilish look in her eye. she leaned behind her and grabbed the empty stool on her other side with one hand. She raised it effortlessly above her head, then lowered it before crumbling the legs and seat into a marred, warped ball. "Hey! What the--" The bartender yelped and Buffy dropped it to the ground. "Sorry. Add it to my tab!"

GIA BUFFY JONES

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