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

Maybe this is madness underneath my skin


Posted on July 15, 2016 by Spencer Lombardo
West


You call and I respond, the sparrow and the song
I miss you when you're gone



Despite his initial reluctance to accept a position working in a firearms shop, Spencer was finding that he was actually enjoying it much more than he had expected. The customers were still a variation of irritation and friendly, but that was expected in any business dealing with customer service. Arsenaal had also done wonders to keep his mind occupied and hands busy, both in the legitimate and otherwise of his business. Truthfully, that was fine for him. In fact, it was the other half of the business that he had always enjoyed more, even if one of his companions made work in any aspect a... challenge. She was out of the shop currently though, which was a relief. She had many talents but patience was not one of them.

The shop had been predominantly quiet in the day, in fact he could count the number of people that had come into the shop in the last four hours â€" one. So it was a slow day, one that Spencer had spent filling his time by auditing the books, cleaning shop, fidgeting, and mulling over the best places to nap. He wouldn't actually take a nap but it was tempting. Instead, he brewed a fresh cup of tea by blasting the water in the microwave until it was nearly boiling over the cup's edge then waiting until it cooled to add the tea bags. Sure, he could always reduce the microwave time but he was trying to kill time here. Once the black tea had completed brewing, he tossed the tea bag away and returned to the front counter, picking up the newspaper (yes, he was still a paper man) to skim for anything interesting occurring around the city.

It was during his paper break when the shop's front door rang, Spencer glancing up curiously to see who had entered. Not his typical clientele, that much he could gather from the brief look. However, he mainly blew her off, assuming the overdone bravado was some attempt to impress him (it wasn't working). Anyone that had such a loud entrance only to abruptly stop in the doorway, they had no idea what they were doing around this shop or probably any kind of weapon on that matter. He monitored her from the corner of his eye while still flipping through the paper, letting her browse uninterrupted. At least she was courteous enough to not touch, especially since he had spent some time actually cleaning some of the weapons earlier that morning. Sure, mostly the expensive/flashy ones but no one likes fingerprints.

Spencer folded the paper over when she approached the counter, setting to the side as she leaned against his counter. His eyebrows lifted slightly in a hint of surprise, though he kept most it masked. That was unusually... straightforward. No attempt to hide what she wanted, no attempt at some gaudy secret code, or vague implication... she was either an amateur looking for a cheap thrill, punk causing trouble, or a very confident professional. Either way, he wasn't the biggest fan of his business being flaunted to the open air (even if the shop was empty).

"You must be mistaken; this is a gun store." He stated flatly, holding her gaze pointedly. Spencer was a cautious fellow, having learned the lesson the hard way. He wasn't about to throw open his shop doors to some stranger that he had never seen or heard of before. Usually new customers were sent by regulars, regulars that would have to vouch and prove that the new person could be trusted with his business. Still, she was obviously supernatural (or had a really good hairstylist), and there was something in the air that was familiar... Not that he knew her, that type of familiarity. Just a feeling.



single | warlock | notes: xxx

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