West
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.
What You'll Find Here
Black Market
Cull & Pistol
Noah's Ark
Syn
Black Market
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.
What You'll Find Here
Cull & Pistol
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
Noah's Ark
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
Syn
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
Don't fret precious, I'm here
Posted on June 01, 2014 by Davante Dorian
Each of my sisters had been beautiful. I was the second youngest of 9,depending if you're including those living or dead. When I was younger, I had heard that my mother had had a baby in the States before marrying my father in South Africa. Never had I put much credence into the story, though. She denied it of course, employing the "mommy" role for longer than she was truly present for. My sisters, on the other hand, really raised the rest of us. The eldest, Evangeline and Calliope, were the most motherly. They made breakfast every day that there was money to pay for it, and if there wasn't money they worked to find some. They woke the rest of us up, walked us to school, and protected us on the way home when it was too dark to remember the way. My sisters were each beautiful whether they favored my dark hair, light eyed father or my chestnut haired, brown eyed mother. Corinth had been a phenomenal amalgam of both; she had deep, chestnut hair and the Dorian crystalline blue eyes. She was very petite, much like the rest of the girls had been, and had fallen in love with the wrong person. The wrong wolf. So the wolves brought wrath upon themselves? My arms crossed over my chest, almost trying to prove I wasn't buying it. I really couldn't ignore that I did buy it, though. My hands dropped just as quickly as they'd crossed, showing her I was indecisive and unsure of how I felt about the fact that the pack was dead, and by neither my hand nor blade. When her teeth were bared, it helped me understand that this creature wasn't really an enemy, or a threat. She had reacted in a time of absolute need and desperation, not by a killer instinct that she might have hiding. No, she was too resigned for that. She seemed too resolute in her replies, in her reactions, and in her body language to be a current threat or a want to be a threat at heart. "No, I guess you aren't a pet. But hey, there is this trend that began fairly recently of domesticating the exotic and the wild. I think you're in luck." If she was truly to blame for the packs murder, I guess the dagger was truly hers and belonged in her hands. I sighed and sat back down in my chair, assured her display of violence and determination were linked with the dagger. "Keep the dagger. You are right, it belongs to you." davante Aiming to misbehave. |