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

me and the devil, walking side by side


Posted on August 21, 2016 by ASKAREE
West

Askaree Bint Bahar


Askaree could (and would, given the chance and a captive ear) admit hatred for quite a number of things, the list long and the items on it beautifully varied; however, few things did she loathe quite as passionately as she did having to work the floor at Arsenaal. Deliveries? Good exercise. Collections? Fairly mundane, but okay. Playing barista in the dusty labyrinth of Davante's conman's cafe? Hard fucking pass. It had been a clause of particular note within the unwritten contractual agreement of her employ, the young Egyptian having proclaimed that tolerating the lesser intellect of many of the man's clients was sufficient enough recompense without the forced confinement of the store itself. But alas, one sick sales clerk and an ill-fated phone call that should have been ignored and here she was.

The abhorrent trilling of the store's bell tugs the carmel-skinned beauty from the maniacal considerations of what she would do to Davante and Spencer as retribution for leaving her here to decay amidst the dusty shelves and paradoxically immaculately-glistening weaponry. Feigned attentiveness wilts as swiftly as it appears upon Askaree's features as she continues to busy herself with polishing the dagger that rests so comfortably within her hands, the only movement offered as recognition of the man's presence is the twitching of a single nostril as the latent aroma of his established species collides with her trained olfactory. Ugh, a fairy. It is a peculiar thing that distaste does not mar the otherwise quite stunning features of her facade at the realization. That was, until the seemingly unfortunate fellow moved to extend his needy little fairy fingers towards one of the store's more costly pieces. "Don't touch that," she commands flatly, the tone that licks at her every syllable positively dripping with the promise of retaliation should he dare proceed.



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