West

The western part of the city is often home to the poorer residents. Here there is a grunginess 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, and often let the powerful supernatural beings sort things out amongst themselves. Be careful wandering the Western streets after the sun falls.

What You'll Find Here

Black Market
Cull & Pistol
Noah's Ark
Syn

Where you invest your love, you invest your life; [Davante]


Posted on March 02, 2016 by DAREIOS
West

It's not the long walk home that will change this heart, but the welcome I receive after the restart.



Dareios wasn't an avid user of public transportation. With several dozen delectable sports cars in his possession, he didn't much have a use for it. Not to mention his gift of super speed -- it didn't take him long to get anywhere in the city, when need be. But tonight, the vampire wasn't in any rush. He stood coolly on the deck of the only train station in Anacosta Heights. It was nearly deserted at this time of night. One hand cupped at the end of his cigar as he struggled to light it. The passing metros screeched through the station, sending the short, manicured locks atop his head in a brief flutter. Once the S-line train arrived, he was the only to step inside what turned out to be an equally empty car. So the vampire didn't both to put out the cigar. But he couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed. He'd chosen this path for the lackadaisical experience it offered and for the opportunity to people watch. All while he lazily made his way to an actual destination.

Tonight Dareios was traveling to the far-reaching ends of Sacrosanct for business. Against Dareios' better judgement, he'd taken on an assignment from a shifter. A foolish, young man whose motives were still to be determined. But Dareios found himself obsessed with the work. Perhaps it was because he'd grown accustomed to the day-in/day-out nature of his usual routine. Or maybe it was because the vampire had become so successful, he hardly did any of the nitty-gritty investigations himself anymore. He had paid staff to do that for him. But because of the unusual nature of this request, and probably not to tarnish his reputation or stir unnecessary whispering amongst his employees, Dareios had told no one about this. He didn't share the crude drawing Frost had given him of the amulet with anyone for analyzation. He canceled meetings and social appearances as to work on this specific assignment during off hours.

He was pleased with his progress thus far. Part of him was even boastful about it. I've still got it, he'd told himself tonight. It had been almost two hundred years since he and his brother built their empire in Ireland. About a 150 since Dareios fled the country of his birth, after mourning the unexpected loss of his brother, and continued on with their venture in the states. It had been close to one hundred years since he ever had to do the work himself, outside of broader management and organization. This assignment was a good reminder of where he came from.

The train sloshed its way down the tracks, and Dareios found himself feeling rather relaxed in the sterile car under its blinding florescent lights. He pressed the back of his head against the cold glass window and rested his eyes, listening to the shuttering of the metal box as it eased its way down the trail. It didn't take long for it to reach the West side of town. The last time he found himself in this neighborhood had been a memorable night. He had drank from a human that night, for the first time in quite a long time, was not himself. But it happened to be the same night he met Sorcha. Tonight was different, clearly. He wasn't high from feeding and though also here for business, he didn't have any plans of wandering around in the alleyways with a pretty witch.

He was headed to a retail shop, of all things. He'd gotten a tip that a peculiar store in the West district could have the amulet he was looking for. Dareios glares into the blinding light of his phone as he finds his way from the dingy street car station to the murky streets, his face fully illuminated by it in the dark night. He hoped this place kept odd hours.


Dareios Auerbach | Vampire | Vinyl


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