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

If I get this just right, I could lay here all night


Posted on September 14, 2020 by Alistair Rosenthal
West

It was curious, that acceptance that Carolina had come to find over her own transformation. From what he had garnered, her turning was...somewhat similar to his own - an irrevocable change that was not entirely desired, though whether or not she had even been given the chance to accept it or...something far worse, he hadn't the slightest idea. Were-ism...after all...hardly came with the same level of...attentiveness required with that change as he had come to discover of his own metamorphosis. Perhaps, one day, Alistair would feel the same level of assuredness regarding what he was. Now, however, the Artist was merely struggling to just keep his head above the water. He'd dragged his feet in deciding his fate and already he was paying the price for it. Life, it seemed, did not find itself terribly inclined to wait while he coped with this new..."improved"....version of himself. Such thoughts, however, were interrupted by a far more pressing concern. Carolina's optimistic comment that they merely had to make the best of their situations was accompanied by a deep distant rumble overhead, one that only promised the incoming storm would not hold off any longer. He could very near smell the impending rain within the air, both of their gazes turned upwards, eying those darkening fat clouds overhead. It was, it seemed, the very end of that short journey outside.

It was with a soft breath that the Dark Hunter rose to his feet, momentarily pausing to brush the sand off of his jeans in spite of its clear desire to remain. Idly, Alistair commented that, perhaps, making the best of things meant, for now, heading inside. After all, he had little desire to get caught in the rain. The emerald-eyed man was well aware of the weight of her gaze upon him though he had little realization of just how....well that environment seemed to suit him. His own thoughts were far too focused upon the book nestled within her hands, the Artist hardly inclined to leave without it. It was far too valuable, at least, to him. His hand reached down towards her, Alistair willing to assist her to her feet or retrieve the sketchbook he had allowed her to look through for the greater part of the last half hour. The very gesture, however, seemed to prompt a glimpse of surprise from her features before her slender hand reached up to slip into his. Effortlessly, Alistair helped to pull the young woman to her feet, that newfound Hunter strength yet another aspect of his life he was slowly becoming used to. He had discovered a far....gentler touch was required of him now, though he supposed such was understandable given the way their kind was meant to fight the undead.

The very moment that Carolina regained her footing, the darkened skies above them seemed to open up with far more enthusiasm then Alistair thought necessary. Those droplets were only falling ever faster with each passing moment, near promising a torrential downpour if the pair tarried. That shout of Carolina's southern draw drew Alistair's gaze back towards her, the joyfulness present within her soprano tones as she tugged at his hand ever so gently. It was, perhaps, only her carefree spirit that prompted Alistair to join her....well, that and the ever-increasing downfall that was already beginning to soak his dark brunette locks. As he raced after her, Alistair hardly expected her to lead back towards the fire escape, not when the front door to the building itself was so easily accessible. A small glimpse of confusion crossed his features as he followed her up those metal stairs though he was hardly in any place to argue as another peel of thunder rolled far louder overhead, the rain quickly beginning to soak his shirt.

Alistair
Rosenthal

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