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
Shuddering at the pet names Sam jokes about, her thoughts flash back to her master, being forced into bed because she has no other option than to corporate and hearing the pet names roll off of his tongue as if to seduce her with his words. Clamping a lid down on her thoughts, she glances at the faerie out of the corner of her eye, "I would rather you would stick to my name," Vhalla comments sternly, leaving no room for discussion. She feels bad momentarily, the fae was being honest and was truly being genuine, that was something that Vhal wouldn't be able to deal with, without losing it completely.
Swallowing her feelings, she follows silently into the apartment after she sternly addresses the assassin about Dorian. Without answering, Vhal gives a curt nod. The witch had no doubt in her mind if she wanted to take on the faerie queen it wouldn't be a fair fight, the assassin was taught to fight dirty, though she hadn't to play that way, sometimes it was the only way to save her skin. After taking a seat, she lets her blue gaze follow Sam around the kitchen as she scurries to put a kettle on. It was strangely relaxing to watch such normalcy in the world Vhal lived in.
When Sam casually responds, Vhalla's eyes widen incredulously. Scoffing at the faerie who stood a few feet away she comments bitterly, "Then you are a foolish faerie queen, no one in their right mind would take a woman home who threatened them with a knife and who is covered in blood," she pauses, looking back at Sam and knowing full well she had insulted the woman, "But I respect what you have done, even if I think you should be warier of who you pick up off the streets," she shakes her head, softening her tone. Wrapping her slender fingers around the mug Sam places in front of her, they look almost delicate, not made for killing. Looks were very deceiving,
Staring down into the mug, Vhalla winces inwardly, she doesn't like tea but the faerie was being polite in offering her some accommodations. Surely the assassin couldn't be rude, could she? It was a whole new world of emotions, Vhalla did not want to upset this innocent woman before her. Why should the witch care? She wouldn't be seeing this fae ever again after this chance meeting. Declining Sam's offer of condiments, politely, she raises the cup to her lips to take a sip. Vhal is almost not able to keep the look of disgust off her face, but the warmth did spread throughout her body. Continuing to sip on it, the silence is comfortable, not at all unwelcoming.
Giving a small nod at her words, Vhalla was skeptical at the woman being able to protect herself but she lets it go. It was certainly hard to picture the blonde woman with the ability to defend herself accordingly, though the assassin was at the point that she didn't want to argue about the queen's abilities. Taking another sip, she sets the mug down in front of her as Sam very casually comments about some of Vhalla's deepest secrets. Standing suddenly, she takes a step away, a snarl contorting her face. This time, she doesn't reach for her dagger, instead her eyes blaze in anger at the faerie across from her.
"For your sake, I hope you aren't a psychic," she comments in the deathly silence, her words harsh, "You are correct, however. I do not wish to harm you." Clearly, Vhalla isn't aware that Sam only has the abilities to influence emotions, yet fear radiates from the assassin. Either she would be murdering this faerie queen in her own home or she would walk away and never return. She preferred the latter. There was so many memories and thoughts that Vhal had to keep locked away and if this woman could read her mind it would it would be a disaster. Taking a few steps backwards as if she were making a quick exit, she was torn between fleeing and doing her duty to her master by ending this woman.
Blue eyes pinched in pain, "Please, tell me you can't read my mind," she pleads.
Vhalla Solarn
don't go inside; that's where my demons hide