Angels have no sanction here, as they are considered the immediate nemeses of all Dark Angels. Sarai Zoheret has only been a Dark Angel for 1900 years, but her forces have been built strong, and her connections well made. It was for this reason that the Oligarchy extended a hand to her and requested her role of leadership, lest they become a target on her sights.
When the Oligarchy broke apart, she shunned the other Oligarchs for their cowardly actions but because none would work with her - unable to see her ruling vision - she carved out a territory for herself and is now lying in wait for the right moment to surface. Zoheret never does anything in halves.
It's out near the Boardwalk, far away enough from the city not to attract attention when the lights blaze to life at night and the machines grunt and groan as if they were living beasts rousing themselves from sleep. It\'s a full-blown carnival- an exciting mix of relatively new stomach-twisting rides and a charming old-style "Freak-Shows". It seems to brim with people of all strange sorts at night.Rife with bad luck, Fantastika caught aflame and burned high and bright during the summer of 2009. The crowds fled in panic, but not before a dozen children and seven adults met their deaths. Fantastika lay inanimate and broken, smouldering remnants of a fun-filled past now condemned to wait for rebuilding once more - if it would ever come.
In recent months, there appears a magical mist at night, turning blackened and twisted metal into a turning ferris wheel once again, flags take flight in a breeze that blows only for them, the helter skelter lighthouse slide is tall and inviting once more. For a several hours from midnight to sunrise, it seems Fantastika lives and breathes its happiness again. Some see it and whisper with fear about the haunting, while others flock to experience the magic of an playful land that turns back into its skeletal remains when the colours of daylight begin to streak a course in the night sky.
Ocean Spray and Tourist Traps
The docks - or, as they are more commonly referred to - the Boardwalk is a nice place to get lost in, or just a nice place to visit.
It's more of a system of piers and docks than anything else; a network of wood on stilts with a few foundations made from sea-rocks here and there. It\'s brimming with fish markets, small fast food stalls (with a strong seafood overtone), and various shops selling trinkets ranging from plastic souvenirs to genuine artifacts from the oceans.
The fish markets are only open in the mornings, but the boardwalk is up and running at night, depending on the moods of the various shopkeepers and the state of their independently-owned shops. It's a great place to meet seafaring folk- from normal tourists to sea rats (most literally) and the entire Boardwalk has a sort of ecological system of its own consisting of cats, rat, small hyper birds, and various forms of ocean life.
It would take days to explore the Boardwalk fully- it's a haven for anyone fond of exploring or just generally enjoying the myriad assortment of life there.
Sparkling Golden Sands
It's simply a wide, wild stretch of land where the earth meets the sea.
Southward, the beach is nothing but a series of treacherous cliffs pockmarked with tide pools - a wonderful place to explore, should you ever feel the itch for such a thing. And have relatively good footing.
The transition from cliff to sand is rather sudden; three quarters of the beach is just that, a beach. Toward the land, in some areas, there are tall dunes interspersed with various seaside life and dusted with gnarled scrub- but there are also simple, sweet, stretches of bare sand.
The sea is like a living thing- massive, roiling, green, whispering and hissing in the rocks, crashing and charging playfully over the sand. It's a place to get away from the hustle and danger of the city and simply enjoy nature as it is.
On a privately owned bit of beach, a very modern six bedroom beach house hosts all-night parties for those on the exclusive list.
VIPs invited to the party must bring a mortal as their 'ticket' to enter the party itself. No ticket means no partying. Once inside, there is no end to the intimate displays of affection that you can see while wandering through the house. All doors are to remain open at all times, lest you find your invitation revoked.
Rocky and Rambunctious
The drop off into the rolling waves and pounding surf below is quite impressive. From the vantage point above the sea, one can see for miles on a clear day, and the wind whips and stirs about the smell of the ocean pleasantly - if one likes that sort of thing.
The rocks itself are slowly, slowly being reshaped by the waves, but for the time being they remain much the same; little plants sprout up from between faults in the stone and earth.
Below the cliffs are stones that are only accessible during low tide during which the pools of seawater and life are visible. Crabs scurry about and muscles cling to the rocks and it's all quite lovely... just get out of there before the tide comes back in, the ocean is not something to be trifled with.
Beacon of WarningSitting near a rocky ledge, where the ocean and the wall of earthen stone meet and crash together like two titans at war, stands a white building with broken windows and misplaced tiles on the roof. The lighthouse once an object used to bring sailors home now sits lonely and waits for passerbyers to explore. Inside the house lays a stray table, a broken teapot stradded on the floor and a painted picture of haystacks. The house doesn\'t hold any modern day appliances within, just a wood burning stove and a old icebox. There can be found under the cot in one of the corners a stack of national geographic magazines.
A nest sits in one of the crevices and was once a place for a mother sparrow and her young. They have long gone now, as seasons changed. The lighthouse itself holds remnants of red paint on its roof and rotted iron to the stairs leading to the light. The light house still works, and is set to operate on a timer. At night it shines out to the sea with all its orginal strength, calling for those lost and in need of guidence. However since the caretaker is long gone, only time will tell when the light ceases to exist.