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 August 22, 2020 by ASKAREE
West

askaree



She is untroubled by the supposed distaste that slithers through the severe lines of the Kitten King's face; unperturbed by the sting of his apathy. Truthfully she could not have given less of a shit for his opinion on the automobile she had chosen for herself, the act of revealing her prize to him merely a formality in this transaction, as it were. Sliding the phone easily back into the safety of her pocket, the impish grin upon the Egyptian woman's face slackens somewhat, the gaiety of it leeching from the dark pools of her eyes. "That's a pretty stupid assumption to make when you haven't even looked under the hood. As it turns out, that old crap could out-pace one of your oversized Vespas any day. But that is a discussion for later, hm?"

The arc of a perfectly-manicured brow pitches skyward at the query he poses. Why so serious? "Johnny... something-or-other. Fat, old-ish bloke, shameless toupee, stereotypical Italian asshole.. thinks he's the fucking Godfather of Sacrosanct." The wickedness returns to the serpentine crescent of her grin as readily as it had vanished. "Why, is he a friend of yours?" As amusing as the ophidian woman would have surely found that scrumptious revelation to be, it would certainly present a quandary that might challenge her would-be companion's already-waning willingness to provide her with his assistance. Assistance that, it seems, does not extend to something as admittedly trivial as a ride. Jesus, he was a goddamn prick. "You haven't left me much of a choice, Grinch. His place is over off Palmer." The plush cushions of her lips purse for a moment as she considers him, awaiting whatever Harry Potter throwback move they were about to pull.

"You were way less of a dickhead the last time we hung out."


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