THE CITY

Union Station is the only train station in the whole city, and indeed, the hub of travel in and out. Not even the freeways leading into the countryside and beyond are frequented as much as the railways, and because of that, a certain notoriety has been gained for the entire system. Efficient and rarely anything other than absolutely punctual, trains of all sorts come through the station. A large building marked out by a large clock tower, old-fashioned railway shelters, and large marble expanses, food-sellers, newsstands, and what have you will often set up shop here, guaranteed a good day thanks to all the commuters. There is more than enough space for a whole Clan of cats here, but only those that risk braving the lack of shelter, the high ceiling, and the thousands of people that flood the place every day tend to truly frequent the area – despite that the pickings are always good.

The Inner City district is the second largest, coming just after industrial way. Heavily populated and frequented, it’s almost embarrassingly easy to see that this is where the majority of efforts and resources are spent. Comparable to such icons such as New York or Tokyo, the Inner City – or “Inner,” as it is often referred to - is opulent and even grossly out of place with the rest of the districts. Predictably, it’s set in the very center of the city, culminating in a tree-lined plaza where throngs of people congregate, breathing in the smells of the food carts or going about their business. The Inner is where the real urban life is; clubs, shops, restaurants, government offices, and high rise apartments, all decked out in vitality, exuberance, and lights. The park can be found at the end of the Inner City, and the streets themselves are a tangle of stop signs and horns, meshed together in a surprisingly confusing web. It’s a place for living and looking forward, and it’s practically its own city, completely different from the districts that surround it.

Tenant Quarters, also known as the Felony Flats of the city and other, not very appetizing names, is the title bequeathed to the third largest and (embarrassingly so) extremely poverty-stricken district. Comprised mostly of back alleyways, dark corners, and sallow streetlamps, the tall brick buildings that make up the majority of the area were built during the Industrial Revolution for the workers – tenants – of the factories in the city. With the onset of the building of warehouses and closing of factories, living conditions in Tenant Quarters declined rather than improved, and the poverty that was already a problem became practically crippling. Most workers lived day to day on what they earned, nothing more, and the district became a hotspot for crime, lying, and undercover deals. Over time, the tenants gradually began to leave the district, and for the most part, it became abandoned. However, enough people still live here that complete reconstruction cannot be done, and besides; the city doesn’t have enough money for the deed. Infrequent and briefly impassioned demolitions are all that occur now, and for the most part, the city tries hard to forget its darker side, even though the alleys creep up to the Inner district itself.

The East Side district of the city is a recently new addition. Extremely urban, it offers what many (teenagers particularly) like to call a ‘gritty and realistic’ feel, despite it really being neither of those things. First gaining notoriety during prohibition, mostly thanks to a bar, the area exploded during the roaring twenties to immediately diminish once more at the onset of the Great Depression. Respected soldiers, government officials, and their families took the opportunity to settle there, making the formerly scandalous space well-appointed and proper. After World War II, this gradually declined as the suburbs expanded, but it was not until much, much later – perhaps around twenty years ago – that it truly evolved as its own district, despite being the smallest of them all. The old prohibition-style atmosphere was brought back with a vengeance, clashing immediately with the fancy houses and respectable businesses there, with the result of a serene and peaceful daytime and extremely rebellious and active nights. Though it is promoted as edgy, it’s one of the safest districts around, except for the few places it merges into Tenant Quarters – but nobody ever dares go there.

Nestled right on the edge of the East Side, right inside the border where forest meets city, an old farmhouse sits hidden far behind a derelict manor. Left untouched by some zoning oversight, the two-storied farmhouse, weathered and graying, has become the home to the City-based branch of the consortium. A great oak tree grows right in the center of the farmhouse, breaking through floors and roof to tower over its surroundings. Easy to climb, with old hollows that can serve as dens peppering its trunk and branches, loners and rogues from all walks of life stop by to spend a night in the sturdy, safe tree, staying inside the farmhouse or - if they prefer the stars - in the upper branches. If tree-living isn't their thing, then the rest of the farmhouse is perfectly serviceable, with spaces for nests on both floors. Large spaces for socializing and eating are also present both inside and outside the farmhouse, while rain barrels and pans just outside provide water. No matter its current inhabitants, there is something about the place and the great oak tree that fills the air with peace and calm, and indeed, rumor has it that no blood has been spilled in the Sanctuary for over a hundred years.