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Chicagoland: A Monsters Tale

The Black Dog

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a part of Chicagoland: A Monsters Tale, by miss randomness.

A famous bar in Chicagoland it has always been known for it's signature drinks and cozy atmosphere.

miss randomness holds sovereignty over The Black Dog, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

172 readers have been here.

Setting

The Black Dog is an institution in Chicagoland. It was first opened shortly after the city was founded and has been serving up signature drinks and a welcoming atmosphere ever since.

Originally it catered secretly to it's Monster clientele in a back room inaccessible to humans but with the new laws allowing for more integration it has become a go to place for humans and monsters alike.

The atmosphere is always welcoming and the owner has a strict no fighting policy and isn't afraid to use a little bit of magic and muscle to evict anyone looking to stir up mischief.

It is famous for it's monster themed drinks and occasional monster themed meals.
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The Black Dog

A famous bar in Chicagoland it has always been known for it's signature drinks and cozy atmosphere.

Minimap

The Black Dog is a part of Chicagoland.

1 Characters Here

Arnelius Bornhold Graywatch [1] In the shadows I lie, before me you die.

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Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Arnelius Bornhold Graywatch
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Arnelius walks out of his house, into the damp night air. He looks around at the people strolling along, some aware a terrible creature was eyeing them up, some not. Turning he begins walking along the street toward the Black Dog. He is wearing his customary long dark trench coat, and beneath it a nice pair of slacks, with a dark dress shirt and shiny black shoes. He walks along, unconsciously walking silently, as it is a habit he had developed over the years to make as little noise as possible. To pass the time he begins whistling a haunting melody composed by a dear friend of his several years ago. He finally sees the bar in the distance, and begins paying more attention to his surroundings again. He passes by a rather happy looking couple, one of whom smells heavily of dog. I wonder if they know they're dating a werewolf? Most monsters are more open these days, but that is definitely a hard selling point. Probably both end up regretting it, with good reason. He reaches the door and pushes it open. He is greeted by the various scents associated with the place, from the various wares to those buying them. He walks up to the bar and sits down, trying not to get too close to anyone already there. A server walks up to him, "What can I get for ya?" He asks. "I'll take a Bloody Mary, please. And a mozzerella platter." The man nods and walks off. The one nice thing about monster themed bars is that now that they are openly serving, more food options become available. For example his favorite drink, the Bloody Mary. Arnelius doesn't know how they are able to legalize it, whether it is human blood duplicated by some form of magic or technology, but he can openly feed in public, which is extremely convenient. He looks around at the other clientel and doesn't see anyone he knows, but recognizes many of the faces as usuals whom he doesn't often converse with, though if no one else shows up he will. His drink is brought to him and he begins sipping at it with relish, the color in his eyes brightening a tad. He sits back and waits for his food.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kallistrate Dimitriou
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#, as written by Andoral
- Argus -


Transforming was a violent and excruciating process for a young wolf, and as Argus watched each of the pups cry and shriek back into their human form, he had almost forgotten the experience. The fur fell from their great bodies, followed by horrific snaps, twists, and cries of pain. For this reason, young werewolves would find a secluded place to begin the process, as it was common for humans to get weak in the stomach at the sight. The CMI, however, kept her posture.

In wolf form, werewolves grew to about the size of horses. Since he could not speak in this body, Argus pushed his ears back and lowered his head towards the CMI, indicating his apologies and more importantly, respect. If he learnt anything in his early years of pack hood, it was that. Argus quickly made his way to the back of the bar; his dark silver fur was torn and coarse. He was not gone longer than a second when he trotted back to the CMI, hurriedly slipping his arm through the sleeve of his plaid shirt. “I’m sorry, ma’am, they’re not usually this rowdy.”

Intuitively, Argus’ nose twitched a couple of times in the company of unfamiliar species. He could not identify the scent, but there was something of it that gave him a wave of doubt and unease. Pulling his gaze away from the snakes, Argus took a step forward. He knew that it was only a matter of time that the kids would have gotten themselves into trouble with the CMI.

“There aren’t many of us in this part of town, ma’am.” Argus began. “The young ones have a quick temper, often explode into form at the slightest tick. Without a pack, they’re likely to become feral. I’ve tried to get a hold of them, you see…” He paused and glanced at the bar, wondering if he was going to receive a scolding from his boss. This was the fourth time that Argus had fled from the kitchen.

“Should we discuss this inside?”

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kallistrate Dimitriou Character Portrait: Argus Lefroy
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#, as written by Andoral
Argus


His spirits were elevated with the enchantment of nature. Or rather, the wolf counterpart was delighted with every moment Argus took to visit the neighbouring wood. Its senses were gratified at the genial warmth of the sun, the scents of the earth soiling the pads of its enormous paws, and the ample sights and splendour. This was what a young wolf should familiarise with, Argus believed. Not the misuse of physical power, and certainly not the overestimation of the wolf’s inborn superiority. Alongside their native province of the wood, Chicagoland was an entire world unknown to them. The city, as with their own home, came with laws to be respected.

The CMI spoke with a string of language that Argus could scarcely comprehend. He mused over the idea that the young lady, her hair of snakes and unusual scent were employed in a mysterious line of work that involved thievery, which would mean that she was accustomed with coercive arts. But as the CMI continued, Argus listened attentively. She spoke with an accent of respect and practiced hospitality, or perhaps his deductions were severe, and the CMI was genuinely concerned.

Argus did not stir in his seat at the booth throughout her discourse. When she uttered the last words of her proposal, he rested his elbows on the wooden table and closed his hands over his nose, glancing once at the ceiling. The particular pack that the CMI spoke of was not new to him. They consisted of a disorderly assembly of werewolves, the true bloods, or as they preferred, “true wolves”.

“The true wolves won’t move here because they’re too high and mighty to think of leaving their home. They like a challenge, even if we’re on the edge of civil war.” Argus said finally, clasping his hands together in firmness. “I don’t know much about the CCMAA, or the witch. She smells familiar, if you count that for ‘acquainted’. I think the humans were just excited to see a fight, as kids go…”

Where’s Lefroy? How long’s he gone for?

He’s with that CMI at the booth.

What’s he done now?

Pack business. Don’t seem like trouble.

Yeah? I ought to tell him to keep his wolf problems away from the Black Dog. Can’t have them going at each other in front of the damn bar like they do. Y'see the bloody size of them?


The conversation ended with the boss slouching from the kitchen, all work and buzzing resumed once the door shut with a sharp slam. The corner of Argus' lips curved lightly as he heard distinct grumbling and mutters escape from the office. The presence of the CMI brought all havoc to a halt, giving Argus a chance to catch his breath and continue.

“The pups won’t become feral, ma’am. I plan to get a hold of them and train them myself. A pack may be traditional – but true blood isn’t the way to go. Those wolves in the city will do nothing but damage to them. Might be a lone wolf, but I know they’d be better off having me with them for a little...” There may well be enough places in the wood for the young wolves to take refuge for rest. Argus determined to track the litter down himself. “Ah, I’m sorry for spoiling your night. Have a Barghest Steak and Kidney pie, on me, hey? For your troubles – whatever you fancy on the menu.” Argus turned and took his leave to the kitchen. She knew where he was if she needed him.