The western part of the city is often home to the poorer residents. Here there is a grunginess that permeates the town from the graffiti on the once cleaned brick buildings to the broken and unmaintained architecture. Crime runs high within the western half of town, making it the home of supernatural gangs of illicit activities. Such activities are rarely reported, however, and most residents are distrustful of individual's of authorities, and often let the powerful supernatural beings sort things out amongst themselves. Be careful wandering the Western streets after the sun falls.
Black Market
Cull & Pistol
Noah's Ark
Syn
Just like any city - Sacrosanct is not without it's deep, dark underbelly. Hidden in the graffiti-ridden streets of the West, behind closed warehouse doors, lies the Black Market. Forever moving, it's nearly impossible to find without knowing someone who knows someone. Anything you desire can be brought for a hefty price within the Black Market - be it drugs, weapons, or lives.
Hidden within the dark alleyways of the Western Ward, Cull & Pistol is a dim, often smoky bar. With a small variety of bottled and craft beers, Cull & Pistol is a quaint little neighborhood joint. With its no-frills moto, the dingy bar offers little more than liquor, music from an old jukebox, and a few frequently occupied pool tables.
Bartender Raylin Chike
Resting upon the harbor, Noah's Ark (known simply as The Ark) is a sleek superyacht known both for its fight rings and recent...renovations, of sorts. Accessible from an entrance hidden in the shadows, The Ark is a veritable Were-playground that specializes in fighting tournaments for all creatures great and small. With both singles and doubles tournaments to compete in, the title of Ark Champion is hotly contested amongst the Were population. If anything illegal is going on in the city it's sure to be happening within the back rooms or behind the ring-side bar.
Note: This is a Were only establishment. All other species will be swiftly escorted out.
Home of: Nightshade
Owner Aiden Tetradore
Co-owner Tobias Cain
Bar Manager Mira Ramos
Bartender Henry Tudor
Waitress Carolina Bedford
Within the turbulent industrial district lies this club. The warehouse doesn't look like much on the outside but it provides a memorable experience from the state of the art lighting, offbeat Victorian-inspired artwork, comfortable black leather lounges, and the infamous 'black light' room. There is a wide variety of alcohol that lines the shelves of both of the magical and ordinary variety. It is a common stomping ground for the supernatural who want to let loose and dance the night away to the music that floods the establishment. Humans are most welcome if they dare.
Owner Risque Voth
Manager Darcy Blackjack
Cats Aiden Tetradore
Cats Harlequin Westward
The man entirely ignored Tobias' insistence that his bed was too small by any means, his brain hardly awake enough to even bother wanting to explain the logistics of exactly why his best wasn't in a way the irrational and nearly inept man might understand. He cared about Tobi, truly, and more often than not he simply ignored the boy's shortcomings and social incompetence - but even Tetradore had his limits of what he was willing to explain and those limits, it seemed, swung into full effect at three in the morning. The mention of the nonsensical 'crab-spiders' on the other hand, saw Tetradore pause. His emerald gaze momentarily stared at the lanky deviant, a small frown tracing the edge of his lips. Crab spiders. They were somehow familiar and yet the dream was already foggy and fading into the distance, just out of his reach. He shook his head ever so slightly, hardly bothering to explain at they didn't exist before responding with a simple, "I don't know." That explained it all, as far as Tetradore was concerned and so, instead, the man simply turned his attention to the topic that had dragged him out of bed in the first place.
He freely allowed Tobias to take the lead in their little adventure, Tetradore still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. In truth, he wasn't particularly listening for any such noise, or really making any effort to be as quiet as his predatory nature surely could be. Mostly, the man had thought these apparitions were merely a manifestation of Tobi's imagination or a simple lack of understand of what the word 'ghost' even meant in the first place. For all he knew, this ghost could be a drawer full of forks. At least, such was his suspicion until the faint but certain scratching sound reached his already heightened senses. The man paused, stifling his yawn before he shook his head, "It's only a rat or something." He muttered though the boy hardly seemed to hear him and softly Tetradore offered a rather defeated groan before following his friend down the stairs and into the darkened kitchen.
He watched the fashion at which Tobias tilted his head, Tetradore regarding him with little more than a nearly bored yawn, entirely missing the way in which Tobias' eyes grew as large as saucers. In fact, if it wasn't for the the deviant's rather abrupt lunge into a quite solid individual, Tetradore would have suffered from quite the headache. As it was, the man merely glanced behind him at the struggling individuals, watching as the familiar waitress righted herself enough to recognize the still half asleep Alpha's presence. He waved off her concern with a flick of his wrist. "It's fine Alicia." He responded, hardly concerned at all for the damage Tobias had done on the pan, much less the girl herself. The pan was easily replaceable and Alicia would heal far faster then she looked with the were blood running through her veins. "Let her come Tobi, maybe she'll scare the ghost away." The man replied with a shrug, after all it made sense didn't it? Wait - Did any of it really though?
Another yawn crossed Tetradore's lips as Tobias motioned further downwards towards where the vehicles were being stored. "Come on." He muttered to his newfound train, taking the lead as he headed with little visible concern further into the hull of the ship. Despite his lackadaisical behavior, a part of the man was entirely worried for the precious cars that he so highly treasured. They were, perhaps, his one possession that he might be remiss to lose.