Oubliette St. Station

Our wisdom flows so sweet. Taste and see.
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What is time to us? We stand outside. All things have happened. All things are happening. What is Space? We are everywhere and nowhere, always moving and never moving, but always awake, always watching, always observing. We see the ages pass and we see your species repeat the same mistakes, in every age, but always with a new twist, your kind is nothing if not innovative sweetling. You manage to take the same story and make an entirely different one by merely changing the scenery, see Ealdwic and Darkside, see the vampire pickpockets and  stock trading lycanthropes, see the crossed ones trying to maintain order amongst the urban chaos, a community hundreds of years in the making, there is no other Ealdwic in the world sweetling but it is not alone, your kind has lived alongside the secret world for as long as you have existed, and Ealdwic is not the only place on the planet where the darkness creeps into the illusion of the mundane.

We were their when your kind crossed the ice bridge into the new world sweetling, we were their when you set foot in Newfoundland, and we were their when your ship arrived in Hudson bay. They came seeking riches sweetling, land, fish, fur, and safety most of all. The Illuminati are drawn to wealth like moths to a flame, so it is only natural that they would be drawn to this new land of plenty. they flee the templar wrath by infiltrating the Dutch West India Company, and relocating all they had built to the new world, but occult libraries and armories are not the only things the Illuminati bring with them sweetling. The colonist bring with them new diseases, new species, and new terrors that stalk the night.

A Lenape woman stumbles upon a couple near a river as she makes her way home, two foreigners a man and woman holding each other close. Intrigued, she moves closer, the woman appears to be asleep, the man's face buried in her neck, the moon over head illuminates the couple, the woman's shoulder is covered blood that appears black in the moonlight, she steps on a branch, the man looks up, his eyes are like nothing she has ever seen before, a Vampire, the first of his kind to journey to the new world. She flees into the woods. The man is impossibly fast, but he is unfamiliar with this land, seeking to lose her pursuer she takes a shortcut down through a dark wood, where the shamen alway told them not go after dark. Oh no! she trips over a bone, all that remains of the last sweetling that enter these woods, her pursuer finds her, licking the blood from his lips he prepares to feed only to find that he has become the prey of another, a wendigo, an indigenous night terror,  bites into the Vampires shoulder attempting to drag its prey into its den, but he can not move this strange creature. The ensuing fight is intense, trees are felled and rocks shattered as the two cryptids try to subdue each other, they do not see the warrior that approaches, or hear him draw his bow. The first arrow finds its mark, the windgos eye, a shamen poultice burns the creatures flesh as it tries to dislodge the arrow, a second arrow strikes its other eye, as a third pierces the creatures throat. The warrior knots a fourth arrow and aims for the new terror, he strikes the creatures eye, and the Vampire staggers but only his pride is wounded sweetling. He yanks the arrow from his head turns towards the worrier only to be burnt by a lantern light, the warrior is not alone sweetling, an Illuminati witch from new Amsterdam, had been hunting this terror for days, she has never seen a wendigo before, but like all illuminati she can sense opportunity when it is near, she approaches the warrior and the shaking woman and holds up her lantern, “ashëntèsihëna?” she asks, and the Illuminati's web grows larger.

Time passes, the the Dutch are no longer as powerful as they use to be so the illuminati trade them for the English, New Amsterdam becomes New York, but the city is always growing sweetling. New immigrants come, and not just sweetlings, but cryptids from across the world, Aos Sí from Scotland and Ireland, Scandinavian elves, French lycanthropes, Romanian blajini, German ghols, all stowaway on the merchant ships. The old world grows crowded sweetling, villages are becoming cities and not every nation has a Ealdwic. They, like the Illuminati they come seeking safety from the Templar, but the Illuminati  will not have them sweetling, the native cryptids soon find themselves in conflict with the newcomers, Aos Sí go to war with a harvest spirits for control of sacred woods, elves infest forest that were once the domain of Sasquatch, lycanthropes terrorize the countryside and vampires begin to compete with windigo for food. North America has turned into a war zone sweetling, the Templar hear tell of the growing conflict and begin mobilizing a army, but this will not do sweetling, not for the Illuminati, who worked so hard to flee the Templar. They turn to their new allies the Lenape, a deal is struck, hold back the night from our city and we will help you reclaim your woods, the warriors of the Lenape learn quickly sweetling, silver arrows are forged to deal with the lycanthropes, Iron spikes in the ground drive the Aos Sí north, cleverly placed snares drive  elves and blajini, to seek shelter in the city, and powerful potions hurled into the dens of the ghouls cause them to flee north with the  Aos Sí. All of this happens against the backdrop of the Illuminati plan to drive the Templar from the new world, sweetling, and this is only the first wave.

Time passes, the Templar are forced from the new world. In the Illuminati moment of greatest triumph, what was once a quite collection of market towns and trading outpost soon become as bustling city and like all cities it has its secrets, -INITIATING ANIMA TRACE PROTOCOL-, we find ourselves in Brooklyn, near the water under the Illuminatis all seeing eye, cryptids and sweetlings intermegal freely here, a thriving occult market, has sprung up to meet the needs of magi who can not travel the world tree like you sweetling, this street is forgotten by the wider city, as are its inhabitants, so they name the street Oubliette. Locals not fond of its cryptid inhabitants will call it Ugly Street, but they do not care sweetling, this new city changes quickly, blink and you will become lost in its ever growing streets, there is no time to ponder the insults hurled at you by strangers.

Time passes still, a second wave of immigrants. Germanic elves, join their Scandinavian cousins in the city, a second wave of Aos Sí, follow the Irish as they flee the famine forced on them by the English, Italian longana and lycanthropes take up shop near the harbors of Oubliette St. They all intermingle with the Illuminati magi, circulating in and out of the ever expanding labyrinth of tunnels underneath the city, and for time there is peace, but that time is short. The new inhabitants quickly resume their natural behaviors, Aos Sí take possession of Central Park and demand that all humans leave, werewolves begin forming packs with the city's stray dogs and hunting any unfortunate enough to cross their paths, Vampires begin luring victims into their Manhattan penthouses, magical organized crime becomes an increasing problem, occult artifacts find their way into the hands of the uninitiated, the city becomes a cauldron of chaos, sweetling. the powers that be decided something must be done, the committee of 300 calls on their allies in the Lenape, a new deal is offered, a seat on the committee in exchange for help in controlling the cities cryptid population, it is discussed among the tribe at length before finally they agree, the department of paranormal protection is created, Lenape warriors train police officers, mercenaries, and occult scholars in the art of hunting cryptids, the new police force, soon brings order to the city's super natural elements, most are confined to Oubliette St. and the land directly underneath it. Many more choose to move to other parts of the country, some go north to the forest of New England and Canada, others move south into the swamps and meadows of New Orleans and Georgia, and still others move west, always west, following their prey as they seek more riches of the new world.

Those that remain behind soon come to a understanding with the new police force, they will remain in their part of the city but the uninitiated must remain in theirs. The department of paranormal protection enforces this understanding through the use of  “quarantine orders”, but it is not enough sweetling, a new series of tunnels underneath the city meant to carry workers from one part of the city to another becomes away for the darker elements of Oubliette St. to subvert the quarantine. Children go missing from time to time as lychthrops and vampires haunt the cities tunnels taking those wander to deep into the city's labyrinth, but its not just the hungry that use the tunnels sweetling, a black market begins to form in the abandoned stations of the ever growing network, fueled by a third wave of immigrants from the east, kappa, hungry ghost, and shikigami, all begin setting up stalls in the tunnels underneath the city. Do you need a talisman to seal a cursed relic? You can find in underneath time square for $10.50, need your golem repaired? Goldstine Kabbalah will do it for $25.00, $15 if you know the rabbi daughter, need wolves bane with no questions asked? Retsuko apothecary will sell it to you .60 a ounce, and so much more sweetling, but it is not to last.

The outbreak of the first great war leads to pressure on the mayor to control the city's supernatural elements less they be weaponized against them,  the department of paranormal protection is doubled in size and a new propaganda effort is introduced to dissuade the city’s  residents from venturing into the city's subways, but it is not enough sweetling. The abduction of several women from Manhattan's upper west side by a blood cult and their subsequent sacrifice lead to the disbanding of the department of paranormal protection. The New York police are given the task of controling New York's cryptids, they have only one objective sweetling and that is the removal of all non human entities from New York.

For 20 years the NYPD wages a futile war against its supernatural citizens, occult book stores are closed, apothecaries arrested, entire families are taken to police stations and never seen again. Cryptids retreat into the subways and begin a guerrilla war against the police, officers who chase mysteries into the subways are seldom seen again, and those who are, are never the same. At the same time, the Illuminati continue to expand their reach (and their tunnels) throughout the city, they require help in pacifying resistance to their expansion in the city, but genocide risks weakening their web in other parts of the world, the committee decides diplomacy is the only option, an ambassador is put forward, Fiorello La Guardia. He takes a softer approach than his predecessors, meetings in dark alleys are held, he introduces himself to voices in the sewers and speaks in old Italian to aging magi in their underground bookshops. A deal is struck again, a new part of the city will be designated especially for its supernatural residents, an abandoned subway station under the old street where their neighborhood had once been, Oubliette street station is officially opened in 1930, to the clapping of excited hands and claws. Alongside the new station, a new department of the police is formed, the remnants of the  department of paranormal protection are brought back to train a new generation of occultist, this time with a new mission not to hunt but to protect and serve, the department of Paranormal Protection and Control is born. They make sure the mundane are protected from the supernatural and that the supernatural are protected from the mundane. Vampires hunting without a license, unvaccinated lycanthrope, domestic disputes among a coven, they handle all of the mundane troubles of the supernatural world.

Time passes, the fortunes of Oubliette street station rise and fall with the city, for a time the station prospers, supernatural shops line the tunnels and underground apartments are plentiful but then the supernatural fortunes of New York shift, the ships become less frequent, aging magi retire to the suburbs, funding cuts to the department of Paranormal Protection and Control lead to a lack of officers to enforce the bargain struck by La Guardia, a fad in nifty keen pet alligators make the sewers underneath Oubliette street station uninhabitable. The community of cryptids decays, the markets become dangerous, even for experienced magi or heavily armed PPC agents, multiple attempts are made to control the decaying city under the city, but they meet with limited success, that is until a new mayor is elected.

He came at a time when the Illuminati were divided sweetling, the committee of 300 had 2 competing visions for the world they wanted to build. This is not the first time this has happened sweetling, it's not even the latest, but it always has the same result, amidst the division an ambitious man rises to power and attempts to impose his vision on the other 299 committee members, in 2002 this man was Michael Bloomberg. He is a paradox sweetling, he does not believe in the secret world, yet he is tasked with controlling the tinny corner of it that illuminati have given him. His vision is a simple one, a clean, orderly city, inhabited by the very best, the humans with the most gold, the humans who can amass the most power, the humans who bend the world to their will, do you see the pattern sweetling. He is a practical man, he believes in the system, and he believes in filtering out things that destabilize that system.

In October 2013, Bloomberg has a problem sweetling, his city requires more trains, but he has no place to put them. It's expensive to dig new tunnels and he will not raise taxes, but if the old tunnels could be repaired he may be able to have his cake and eat it too, but you see the problem don't you sweetling? The cryptids of New York claimed these tunnel long ago and they will not leave quietly, but then a solution presents itself, -Signal disruption! Our particle wings tear.- A blood worshiper, Harold Wakefield, acolyte of the god slayer, offer a solution, “hire us to, “clean” the sewers and you will have your tunnels.” He does not think long on the offer sweetling, a check is signed the next morning. However the cryptids of New York are not without their champions, a concerned intern posts a story to a anonymous web form being monitored by a makeshift AI that brings the post to the attention of a rather unremarkable physicist. He rallies his allies, the usual suspects, Kenzie Sterling, Blaise Varedin, and Kate Michaels, they work to organize an evacuation plan, before blood can be spilled the cryptids of new york are spirited away. They leave no trace that they were ever there the tunnels are cleared but no blood is spilled, Wakefield is denied his contract, he swore vengeance on the unremarkable one and his friends but that is a story for another time sweetling.

You ask what happens to all the abandoned homes? the answer is simple, capitalism. The children of the eye know an opportunity when then see it, other members of the committee pull on their webs and Bloomberg's failed genocide comes to light, the committee of 300 seize on his failure and his collusion with the god slayers servant to argue for his expulsion from the committee, the final vote is 200, to 73 (with 27 abstaining), he is exiled from the halls of power, but left intact (the Illuminati are never ones to waste resources). Years later a new puppet is chosen and the laws governing New York's, hidden city are rewritten, few of the evacuated cryptids return and the abandoned homes are auctioned off, the Illuminati happily step into to claim the unwanted homes. Occult landlords and a fourth wave of immigrants give, Oubliette St. Station new life, Occult book stores and specialty shops now offer free wi-fi to magi searching for forbidden lore, hipster sasquatch sell kombucha and craft beer grown from the microbes in their fur, day trading ghouls use chaos magic to find the next big startup, elves spin Javascript into viable code, in exchange for stock options or your first born. The forgotten station now pulses with life, the city under the city that never sleeps welcomes all the things that go bump in the night, don't you want to be apart of it sweetling?