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
Maybe this is madness underneath my skin
Posted on May 23, 2016 by Spencer Lombardo
You call and I respond, the sparrow and the song I miss you when you're gone Poisonous pod, hm? Perhaps they weren't so entirely different after all. Come now, Askaree, at some point she was going to have to find ways to stop thinking so poorly of her companion. Or she was going to have to stop blustering she thought so poorly of him considering that, despite his many protests, she seemed to come back for him each time. Oh sure, some of it was due to the fact that the two of them worked together frequently, but being co-workers did not constitute dragging him out after hours to her little escapes. As for Spencer being too "pansy" to leave on his own accord? No. There! She reacted in the way that he knew, that he expected her to behave, and it played its twisted comfort on him. He wasn't much for crowds, especially places where there was a lot of touching (like the dance floor). Askaree might have noticed from working with him but Spencer, dear Spencer, was not much for touching beyond the business handshake or shoulder tap. However, he had carried himself into this situation knowing what would be expected from him. Too bad he just wasn't sure on the delivery. Dancing, oh dancing. It required all this grace and skill that he just had never really mastered. In some odd twist of fate though, he had gone out with a girl (yes, yes, he has dated) a few times that liked to do this dance thing. She never turned him into much more of anything other than someone that could at least almost move with the rhythm. So, in other words, the average dance ability of a drunk man. Cheers, mate. Perhaps he should have taken up the fight ring offer. He used to be able to box, once upon a time. In dealing with Askaree, Spencer had come to one certainty: He was dreadfully out of date in handling women. Well, even more so than he already had been. How he ever got the few dates he had was a mystery â€" oh no, wait. They had pursued him and asked him to ask them out. That's right. Too bad Askaree wasn't in any handbook or guide he possessed. Maybe there was some ancient enchiridion that he could reference in his library hidden amongst the mundane "Brewing for Witches 101". One thing he did need to figure out is what type of reptile she was, though he was fairly certain snake. She certainly drew her "S" out with his name when she wanted to make a point, didn't she? For maybe the millionth time, he again wished he had some sort of quick wit to shut her down, but he settled with a slightly raised eyebrow and no words. Why bother when he knew she probably had a thousand other little answers tucked away, ready to loose like small torpedos to wear him down. Lord knew what else she had planned for the night, might as well save his energy. He maintains eye contact with Askaree, her dark eyes holding his guarded stare. Still, he does try to maintain the semblance of a rhythm set by the music. Is he the best? Not close to it. Is he terrible? Eh, there's worse out there. Still, he was doing something besides bitching. He definitely was wishing for a few more drinks. Also, he was wishing he wasn't wearing his nicer shirts because he was fairly certain he would be drenched in sweat by the end of this escapade. It felt like the dance floor was ten times as warm as the rest of the building. single | warlock | notes: |