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
the sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead
Posted on March 03, 2019 by AIDEN TETRADORE
it's over, i'm through
I saw you standing there and I knew I'm done for
It was, perhaps, peculiar the very indifference that Tetradore seemed to regard his own morality. Death was a concept that hardly feared him, not anymore. He would have welcomed that oblivion with open arms and yet, now, even Death could not completely hold him. Still, he watched with faint amusement as that warm smirk crossed Malia's features. His eyebrows rose, a small snort leaving his nose at Malia's assertion that he was not fast enough. Rather than dwell upon that challenge, however, Tetradore took the painting from Malia, his emerald eyes settling upon the artwork. It was, perhaps, an almost peculiar painting for the Were-King to so greatly desire and yet, it's very meaning was so much more than the oceanic view painting upon that canvas. It was, somehow, so much more than just flecks of paint. Those thoughts, however, were quickly disturbed by Malia's comment of owing her, the Were-King all too wary of any favors he might be forced to repay. In his own experience, such debts hardly were favorable for the man.
He watched as Malia's nose scrunched ever so slightly, clearly considering that inquiry for some time before her shoulders merely lifted in a noncommittal shrug. A soft sigh left the Were-King's lips, the man hardly liking that lack of an answer and yet, he supposed he hardly had the choice, much less the room to make any sort of demands from her. It was, however, her subtle dismissal that drew his gaze back towards the art in his hands as his head slowly bobbed in agreement. "Yeah, I guess I should." He commented, only to step away from her, his own shadows so abruptly rushing towards his form, swirling at his very feet as he glanced back at the young woman. "Thank you, Malia." He uttered softly, pausing for a moment, as if considering adding more before those very shadows so abruptly surrounded him, whisking the Were-King back to the Ark from which he'd come with painting in hand.
aiden tetradore
you bring out the worst in me