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 April 07, 2019 by AIDEN TETRADORE
West

years I've walked in the coldest winds
from sorrow and pain I find my strength
the more I hurt, the clearer I see.


Crowds had never been Tetradore's favored thing, the man, unfortunately, having spent a fair amount of his childhood so surrounded by the pressing bodies of strangers. He was purposeful to maneuver in such a way as to not bump into any singular member of the congregation, even if he hardly minded their existence as a whole. His gaze turned towards the brightly illustrated map in Calliel's hands, taking in the very park they presently stood in before the young woman beside him so softly spoke, earning her his attention. For a moment, Tetradore provided her an almost blank look, that equestrian reaction so altogether strange to the Were-King. "No." He replied simply as his gaze dropped back to the map in her hands. After all, Tetradore had always existed with that cat. Unlike the woman beside her, they were more akin to one singular being than two separate sides of the same coin. Adjusting to that beast in the way she was so forced to was simply a foreign concept to the man altogether. Every bit of the man was as fluid and graceful and predatory as his feline - that mortal flesh a mere extension of the feline and vice versa. His finger extended to lightly touch the map, the man easily changing the conversation as he offered that pathway for the afternoon.

That questioning hint to his voice, however, went wholly unanswered as Calliel's attention turned towards the world around them. Slowly, Tetradore's own emerald eyes turned upwards, glancing at those signs were posted around the entrance of the park. His eyebrow rose at the sight of those rusted signs, the man scarcely aware of which one might lead them down the path he had suggested. He watched as Calliel placed the map back down upon the stand before gesturing ever so slightly at him. Tetradore easily fell into step beside her, his vibrant irises so brushing over the western theme that clearly began to surround them - from the cactuses to plastic tumbleweeds and broken wagons, the park was clearly trying to paint a world around the parkgoers. Tetradore was all too distinctly aware of the sounds that surrounded them - from the people talking to music playing over speakers and yet, the further they got into the Wild West world, the more audible those screams became. His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, his muscular frame tense, to a point. After all screaming was a strikingly familiar sound to the Were-King. How Risque so once adored to stroke those very noises from her prey and yet...this sound was so distinctly different in a fashion that all but baffled the man.

He paused as they rounded the corner, his emerald gaze taking in the very sight of that wooden track. He watched as those wagons shot past, the people inside crying out in their glee and enjoyment of the ride. How...unexpected. Slowly, Tetradore's attention shifted towards the young woman at his side as she glanced up at him with an all too gleeful grin. Admittedly, 68 miles per hour hardly seemed....fast though Tetradore had little to compare it to beyond those sports cars he so cherished. The idea of upside-down loops and barrel rolls were concepts he could scarcely imagine, even though one such drop was quite literally right in front of him. A small shrug crossed his shoulder, "Okay, sure." The Were-king responded, altogether oblivious of what he was getting himself into. After all, he trusted Calliel, to an extent. If this was a good introduction, he had no reason to believe otherwise. Silently, the Were-King trailed after her, his own emerald eyes glanced upwards, altogether fascinated by that rollercoaster as they moved under it and through that line.

aiden tetradore

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