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

Edge of the Circle

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

enough to keep you from your sleep


Posted on June 29, 2016 by Rixon Leifsson
West
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His attention is fixated entirely upon the little canine at his hooves. He is tired of this game. How many times need he ask the wretched man a question? His patience, as often balanced as it is, is beginning to become pressed. The longer he lingered within this territory the more likely it was Raven or Tobias or even Tetradore himself would eventually coming seeking the jackal or else merely pass by in some form of patrol and truly Frost holds little interest in brawling with them again tonight. His own power had increased exponentially since the last time he had faced Tetradore and yet he is hardly fool enough to disregard the unity of the mans pack behind him. Raven was a waste of time and space, yet she possessed power all the same. Tobias presented a significantly more potent problem. The boy was hardly intelligent but blind obedience to his panther king was potent in its own form. It would be far better tonight, if he merely achieved what he had set out to achieve ad vanished from the west as entirely silently as he had come. Then again, perhaps he might have time, even if only a little to visit the Ark once more. He held little intent of attempting to get inside although truly Frost is already assured he is capable of just that. No, he was far more intrigued in the prospect of perhaps merely seeing if he might....see Nadya.

He frowns even now at the thought of it, unwilling to fully embrace the idea. Why he even continued to think of the woman he hardly knew and yet to say he found her anything less than intriguing was a lie. There had been a distinct lack of Nadya of late, her move to the Ark on her brother's wishes having failed to satisfy the equine at all. She was out of his reach, in both he physical and the mental sense- her mind distinctly difficult to find in a cargo ship so very full. Frost having handled this lack of her perhaps more poorly then he cared to admit. He never had been terribly good at having things taken from him. A childhood spent losing so very, very much over and over seeming to have resulted in a rather possessive streak to the man- one his already volatile nature seemed to expand upon here and now. He is frustrated, Jackal is making things far more difficult then they need to be, the little man perhaps an unfortunate scapegoat for the war horse tonight.

The sudden, abrupt shout instantly sees the stallions head jerk upward, hoof lifted away from the cowering Jackal in search of the sound- one violet eye fixating upon the black panther, momentarily believing it to be Tetradore before the explosion of a dumpster seems to revert the stallion entirely to behave in the manner he had been trained to. Both forelegs press down, Frost rearing back upon his hind limbs, head jerked up and away from any flying shrapnel, his towering white form pivoting to offer only the back of him to the flaming dumpster in ready response to deflect any further debris from his face or neck. His forelimbs crash back to the earth with terrific force merely a moment later, ears pinned back against his skull as he paces upon the earth, attempting to find whoever was firing upon him. This animal, here and now, is far removed from the Frost that Nadya had surely known these months past. His mind has simply switched, fixated entirely upon fighting and little else- the man within rapidly attempting to gather control once more as his gaze falls upon the panther a second time. It was not.....Tetradore.

The words that press upon his mind see his pacing halted, ears pricked suddenly forward as realisation seems to register within him and the familiarity of this mind washes over his own. This....was not at all what he had anticipated, much less desired.

Nadya.

It is a statement more than it is a question. His form abruptly stilled as his violet gaze lingers upon the girl, watching her from beneath that forelock of white as her trembling form seemed to shift, his own far larger, far heavier frame pressing back ever so slightly, that edge of dominance shifting to afford Nadya the respect of an equal standing. One of the few creatures Frost ever afforded such a thing too and yet Nadya's agitation seems unwilling to be soothed so readily, the stallions gaze watching her almost warily as one claw strikes at the air, the man moving to speak before the pressure of gravity slams down upon him with force. A snort of irritation erupts from within him, limbs bracing against it.

Nadya, stop it.

The words are offered almost gently towards her, gaze held upon her own and yet still the gravity continues. It is a dangerous game to play perhaps, with a creature so very inclined not to bow down as Frost is. Neither his species, his position nor his personality are inclined to such things, his own more subtle power rapidly beginning to press against it.

Stop.

There is more force to the word his time, his limbs very near beginning to shake, his will power reacting forcefully against the gravity she presses upon him and yet....if his limbs refuse to bend they will break. It is this realisation that does, finally, allow the stallion to fold his front limbs alone into a bow and yet he refuses- entirely and with everything within himself to lay down before her completely- the stallion left in this bowed position as his gaze narrows upon Nadya still.

Does this make you feel better, Naja? Forcing me to my knees will not achieve much. Now will you let me up please?

Whether she would or not remained to be seen, arguing with the woman, any woman however- was a decidedly futile effort and one the man hardly sees the need to employ now. His powers reaching to brush delicately upon her mind, searching her thoughts with ease though seeing no need to comment upon that which he found just yet among the tangle of confusion inside her head.

I did not lie about anything Naja. Your wolf attacked me twice that day, I simply fought back. I have not hurt you, I have not hurt your children and I would not have killed your Jackal. I might have....once.

That much was entirely true, gaze moving to look away from the panther a moment, reflecting upon the very fact that he never had been going to kill the canine, merely.....damage it a little. He had however, not anticipated Nadya's presence. That much he could not escape. The very notion of the woman the very thing that had prevented him from even considering the death of Jackal all the same.

Your canine friend had....something I needed. He was not entirely forthcoming and perhaps I was a little less then gentle. I have some...tendencies, sometimes.

Why he is even trying to explain he hardly knows, irritated at the sound of his own words all the same. He has never had to explain it before. He has never bothered. So why did he bother now?


Frostbite
HTML by Apollymi

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