Once the pride of the state, the fairgrounds have since fallen into disrepair. Located between Necropolis and neighboring Independence, the grounds themselves have become a haven for the squalid underbelly of urban life. Transients, drifters and others with no other place to go can be found here amidst the faded signs and boarded up windows. Broken beer bottles and used hypodermic needles litter the area while old newspapers blow across the main yard and plaster themselves to nearby fences. Streetlights flicker overhead, casting their pale halogen glow across the dreary scene.
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: That night, several figures can be seen, well, perhaps the best term is 'playing', though they look more like a street gang than kids, young teenagers, oddly diverse, ignore their safety and climb ontop of the Ferris Wheel.
: With reckless abandon, they drop from one spoke to another on the no longer used 'ride', laughing if they start to fall.
A slowly flickering streetlight illuminates this dark street. All roads though town lead to this main road. Shadowy figures dart in and out of alleyways, and only the brave or foolish remain here long.