~Welcome to New York~

...No one is here anymore...

It has been almost 50 years since humans have walked the earth. No one quite remembers exactly what wiped them out. Some say it was a random plague. Some say it was the random fires. And some say it was the earthquakes. But there is another theory. Beneath the abandoned city lurks a monster. It is bloodthirsty, preying on whatever it can catch. And now that there aren't any humans around, its next meal are the stray dogs.

...Except for the monster...

The monster is black as night, which is fitting considering it is sensitive to light and mostly hunts in the dark. However, ever since the apocalypse, the days have grown shorter. Now, daylight is only two or three hours long. It is larger than any dog, almost rivaling the size of a small horse with sharp and deadly claws and glowing red eyes. It looks like a mutated dog, with long limbs and matted fur. It either never had ears or they have been completely torn off. Its tail is like a strong whip. The monster's sense of sight is very weak, but its sense of touch(vibration) and smell are impeccable. The monster's sense of hearing is not. The monster also hates rain and water, and cannot swim. Earning an open wound from the beast results in a nasty infection. Some have survived this, while some have not.

...Two gangs, One City...

The two dog gangs rule different sections of New York. Central Park is known to be Neutral Territory. More info coming soon..

Extra Information

[Check here regularly to see what's going on]

Nothing for now. Open to posting. Ghosts and Grims are waking up in their camps. Ghosts live on the Upper East Side, the Grims live in the Upper West Side, with Central Park being in the middle. The Ghosts live in a old coffee shop. The Grims have made a random townhouse their home.

The Ghosts will be sending out a patrol, which will be attacked by the monster and driven into the Grim territory.

Arlo | Second In Command | Ghost | Mentions: Patrol

The canine scanned the perimeter of the camp. It had been home to him ever since he was born into the gang of the Ghosts. Notorious for their stealth and their ability to blend into their surroundings. It was imperative that they know how to slip between the shadows and the cracks of the sprawling city. In order to survive.

In order to escape from certain death.

The old building was falling to pieces, as it always had been. Windows were long gone, leaving shards of glass and many entrances if one was careful enough. Some walls had cracks, while others didn't stand at all anymore. The building used to be a coffee shop, actually. Old bricks had crumbled, strewn across the wooden floor in certain areas. Tables had been overturned or pushed around to form shelters and dens within the space. Long ago, the space had probably smelled like fresh inviting coffee, but now it only smelled like rubble, smoke, and dogs.

Arlo took a deep breath, peering out the broken window at the empty street. The gang would need to patrol for food today. Food consisted of an array of things for them, ranging anywhere from dumpster scraps to any meager kills they could make. The stories their elders told spun tales of so much food, so many kind humans... But that was generations ago. No one knew when the last human was even seen. If they were even real.

He gave a gruff bark, not too demanding or sharp, but enough to capture the attention of any dogs who were awake or maybe in a light stage of sleep. It was time they all got to their paws and started the day. Perhaps he should check on the Boss, Sonora.

With that, he turned around, scanning the room with overturned tables and wandering dogs to try and spot his dear friend. "Sonora?" He called.

Sonora || Ghosts || Boss || M: Arlo

Frustration was becoming a constant emotion in the female's life. Whether it be at the antics of their rival gang, her childrens' adventures, or the lack of food, she could not seem to be rid of the irritation and stress. Of course, she had known this would happen when she vied for the position of Boss in the first place, especially while having young pups with her. If it hadn't been for Arlo's continuous support, Sonora would be a complete wreck. Instead, she was only a partial wreck.

She shook out her thick coat and raised herself from beneath the broken wooden frame -- a table? -- to begin the day. It was late enough to be acceptable to do so, while still being early enough to allow things to be accomplished. A low bark caused her ears to twitch in the direction of the more populated areas of the camp. Sonora recognized it to be Arlo, and a small smile graced her furrowed face. So, they were on the same page, then.

"Sonora?"

Her name came not long after the bark, and the female squeezed through a crooked gap in a section of old wall to return to real life. Arlo's frame was rotating in search of her; she better not keep him waiting. Sonora released a low woof of her own to alert him of her position while she moved in his direction. No more procrastinating, she told herself. Time to be productive.

"Arlo," she greeted her second, briefly brushing her muzzle against his coat. "I take it nothing dire happened during the night? Seems like everyone is still here."

Dogs disappearing was, unfortunately, a common occurrence. The city was a dangerous place, especially at night. A wayward dog, even a large and well-trained one, could be killed as easily as by walking past the wrong storm drain... She made a small face at the thought, but the grimace was quickly subdued as she turned her attention back to the darker male beside her.

When he wakes, he is on the ground, his head against a singular plank of wood that is twisted and warped. It does not provide him much comfort — this floor— but he knows better than to complain. To complain would label him a hypocrite, and he hates hypocrites. He always has. This townhouse, with its warped floors and cracked windows, was shelter.

It protected them from it..

The creature—with its dark as night pelt and matted fur—plagues the ruins of the city. It always has. It roamed the land when he was a child, and when his father was a child, and when his father's father was a child. This creature, it seems, has always been here. He could not imagine a time when it wasn't. To him, the city has always been like this: dark, dusty, and gray. So, if a ruined townhouse with its crumbling bricks and slanted roof is vacant, than only a fool would refuse..

..and Conrí is no fool.

He listens to his breaths. He listens, breathes, and says nothing. He does not even shift, simply lays there for numerous counts. He does not ponder nor allow anything to enter his mind; it is blank. His eyes shift to a singular wall, once painted white but now crusted yellow, and finally decides to rise. He picks his body up before his head, knowing it has no choice but to follow the rest of him, and hauls himself up.

The sound of overgrown nails scraping the ground follows after him as he begins his stride, the sound harmonizing with the floor as it shifts beneath him. At one point, a particularly weak floorboard snaps beneath his weight, creating a sharp twang that echoes against the walls of the townhouse. Though the sound rings through his ears, and though he nearly stumbles, he is no longer phased—it has happened once or twice prior and he has grown used to it.

He is not stealthy like the Ghosts, noise typically creating a trail after him. He does not know how to make himself invisible nor does he wish to learn. Conrí does not rely on that. Rather, it is his mind that he favours so immensely. It was what allowed him to survive all these years. It was what kept him going. It was what helped him keep others going. It was what helped, no, helps, him reign.

"Boy."

His figure pauses in the middle of the townhouse, gaze fixating towards the front door (not that much of one was left). "Boy," he repeats in monotone, demanding the younger male's presence. "Where are you, Boy?" A sneer graces his features, teeth clicking together as he resumes his wandering. Roaming through the empty rooms, Conrí's dissatisfaction only grows at the lack of the Boy. One would think that the Boy is closer. He is always close.

"Don't hide from me, Boy. I won't have it, you hear?" He says, ears twitching to catch a response. When no sound is heard, his muzzle twists into an ugly scowl. "Oh for- Dione!" He keeps his tone hushed, moreso of a hiss escaping him than anything else when he speaks his second's name. "Has anybody seen Dione or the Boy?" On he goes, demanding the younger male's presence, until finally, he caves, using the Boy's true name:

"You better not be playing games with me, Kyan."

He lowers himself onto his haunches and waits patiently, a disgruntled expression upon on his face. Conrí is a patient individual, though not when so many tasks have yet to be completed.

They only have so many hours of daylight.

Ivy || Grims || Pup || M: Kyan and Conri (Ind)

A silvery blue-gray frame lay sprawled beneath a fallen cupboard. Its sides barely lifted and fell, though a soft snore could be heard emanating from the little creature. Nothing could disturb the puppy's sleep; the strange screeches and calls during the night had wafted right over her head, and so would everything else --

Crrrack!

Ivy was now on all fours with her wide, blue eyes fixated on the door frame that led to one of the larger rooms in the house. She was not afraid, per se, but she knew those lumbering steps, and she did not intend to get in the way of the grumpy badger to which they belonged. Conri was now looking for Kyan -- oh! She wanted to play with Kyan, too! Conri's idea of playing was stupid and boring and dumb, but Ivy had lots of fun games planned. For some reason, though, Kyan always seemed to pick Conri's games over hers. Silly Kyan.

She bounced across the room with her white tail sticking straight up into the air. Ivy skittered along the perimeter of the room, sniffing for her brother, while simultaneously avoiding Conri's irritated form. He was no fun, and Ivy tended to avoid him. He made her work instead of play, and that was lame. When she was supreme ruler, it would be playtime all the time for the pups and the adults could do the boring stuff.

Wait.

She herself would be an adult. Ivy wrinkled her muzzle and began plotting on how to stay young forever. Maybe Kyan would know, if she could ever find him in this dillapidated maze of a box. Her eyes wandered over all the shadowy places that Kyan's darker coat would blend in with, a frown creasing her features. It was quickly turning into a pout, as she was having just as much luck as Mr. Grumpy McGhee at finding the young male.

Arlo | Second in Command | Ghost | Mentions: Sonora, Shane

The familiar voice of Sonora made his ears swivel upon his head, making Arlo's head turn to face her as she approached him. Sonora and him went way back. The two had grown up together as pups and had a long history of friendship between them. Their life had not been easy, the pair had been through thick and thin together. It was one of the reasons why he had been trusted as her right hand man. He had always been there for her as well as the pack. Just like he promised long ago when he took the job.

His soft brown and amber eyes settled on the female as a small smile appeared on his cream maw. Arlo's flopped ears perked up in alert, now standing tall. A certain softness and warmth flickered in his gaze for a moment. He always had a soft spot for Sonora, though he had never quite voiced it. For all she knew, they were just close friends. And maybe that is all they would ever be. Arlo wouldn't dare ruin that. If the best he could do was be her trusty Second in Command and friend, he would be content enough.

Arlo.

He closed his eyes for a moment as she brushed against his pelt, and he gave a nod in greeting back, his curled tail wagging softly behind him. In his smooth and slightly deep voice, he spoke "Morning Sonora. Looks like everyone made it through..." He gave an assuring nod. "We live to fight another day." He took his soft gaze from her form to survey the room of his friends. Their followers. It did look like everyone was still in attendance, thankfully.

Shane's form emerged from under a couple tables, capturing Arlo's attention as he nodded to the dog. "Hello Shane. Would you want to go on a patrol today?". He turned to Sonora, talking in a slightly quieter voice. "I was thinking of sending out a group to find some more food scraps and check our borders along the way.. At least before the sun goes down again. The sunlight only lasts so long these days."

Vera | Grim | Member | Mentions: Others Indirectly

The canine laid on the crooked floor of what she now called home. A little townhouse that had its flaws, but was home nonetheless. Her long pelt was a unique mix of browns, black, and amber tones, warped into a pattern similar to a tiger. Her midnight black ears were sitting erect upon her narrow head, perking at every soft sound.

Vera's ears swivel at the sound of nails clicking against the floor, followed by a twang. She didn't even need to glance around to figure out who was ambling around the townhouse. The sound was quickly followed by a single word spoken in a deep and husky tone.

Conri.

The thought of the Boss just made her quiver a little from the couch cushion which she was laying on. It was nestled in the corner of the messy living room, almost out of sight. But not quite. She listened closer, trying to locate where the male was, hoping she could avoid him. From her observations, it seemed like he was ambling through the rooms in search of his prodigy, Kyan. Good, he doesn't want anything to do with me, then.

Next, it sounded like the Boss was looking for Dione as well. As long as her own name didn't come from his maw, she would be glad. Vera was not the kind who liked to socialize. Not even with her own gang members. She very much liked being on her own. Being a part of the Grims was simply out of necessity, that was all. If it wasn't for the deadly monster and tough life as a stray, she would be a loner. But until it was safe again, she was stuck here.

The German Shepherd mix was known to be snappish to mostly everyone. No one really paticularly liked her, either. Which worked perfectly. That way, she didn't need to deal with anyone unless absolutely necessary. She didn't need to make that stupid small talk or be fake. No, Vera was pretty upfront about her feelings about others. Snappish and rude, she had no issues chasing others off. Even if it left her all alone.

Sonora || Ghosts Boss || M: Arlo, Shane, Others (Ind)

The female followed Arlo's gaze to the male underneath the tables. She sent a greeting nod to Shane and, while Arlo asked the relaxed dog his desired questions, Sonora took the moment to look around the immediate area. A firm bark was released from her throat, calling for everyone's alertness. It was not a sound that would require the immediate attention of all the dogs; rather, it was a "listen up for an incoming role assignment" sort of bark. She wanted them to all be awake and coherent by the time she delivered those assignments, though.

She turned back to her second as he leaned in. His words sent a dark cloud across her regal features, and she nodded with a grimace. With her voice low as well, she muttered, "It doesn't help that all the skyscrapers act as mountains. We are basically in a valley; the sun sets much earlier here than it does outside the city walls."

Out there was just as deadly, though. Simply in different ways. Sonora would not risk leading her gang out into the unknown like that, and few scouts had survived or ever come back with promising news. It was not a chance she was willing to take. Besides, her puppies had grown up here, and a large part of her did not wish to try to leave the city. At least, not yet. There were too many memories and, as painful as they could be, she wanted to stay close by.

"If we are to give the patrols enough time to be effective, we ought to dish out those assignments soon. You are right; we don't have enough time. We never have enough time," the female sighed. Her brows furrowed as she looked around for signs of the other dogs. Now to decide who would go on this patrol.