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

this night ain't for the faint of heart


Posted on March 15, 2020 by ASKAREE
West

askaree


Jesus, what the actual blazing hell had been going on with this guy since the last time they had seen one another? Apparently all was far from well in the Puss Palace... très tragique. He had been an arrogant fucker the last time they had enjoyed the relative pleasure of one another's company, sure, but at least back then he had been fun, there had been an unmistakable and invigorating spark of life behind the guarded emerald irises of his eyes. She had eaten it up like a goddamn stoner at a bake-off. There was so pathetically few individuals in Sarco-town that were capable of capturing the attentions of the crocodilian wench for any measure of time- and even fewer still who might actually achieve the feat of entertaining her. Now? The Kitten King looked like someone had taken a piss in his Cheerios... every day... for a really long time.

The dramatic shift in the demeanor of her counterpart might very well have been considered somewhat sad had Askaree been the sort to fret over the subjective misfortune of others. But whatever first-world problems or perceived lack of abject privilege was currently spritzing on the Were king's little parade were hardly the source of any modicum of bother for the Egyptian woman and her oh-so-enticing personal agenda.

The smile spreads upon her upturned features at his question, pearly whites exposed in an expression that is naught but the most insidious sort of glee. "Of course," she answers as she affords him space, retreating a few paces further into the spacious room. No fucking way, you somber bastard. "But you have to admit that some small part of you- a very, very small part buried WAY deep down- wants to get out of this room and have a little fun with me. Seriously, it smells like sadness in here." She eyes him for a long moment, the smile having wilted from the lasciviously tempting pout of her lips though the sarcasm it had championed drips there still. "Look, don't expect me to beg. It comes of as really insincere because, well, it is. If you want to wallow in whatever puddle of melancholy you're obviously waist-deep in, fine, but I have a nagging feeling that you don't..."

Replies