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

where's the light in your deep, dark room?


Posted on September 01, 2016 by Rixon Leifsson
West
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He had not truly intended to see the woman this evening, his reasons for lingering within the Western side of town entirely free of any business so concerning the only other true pack within the city and yet the mere scent of the Fae woman he had so enjoyed playing with these past few weeks was something of an allure he could hardly ignore. The snowy-haired man moves with ease to head towards her, searching for her mind among any others that lingered within the harbour side space. He had, of late, almost grown bored with teasing the girl- if only for how decidedly easy she was to manipulate into hysteria and yet how opportune it was to find the little girl so alone and so far from home and that ridiculous Fairy man that so seemed to be consistently around her. The mere thought of Dorian so saw the stallion's features frown and yet such considerations are so quickly dismissed from his mind as his form lingers within the shadows of the warehouses that so litter this down-trodden area. It was perhaps, not for the first time that the man was given to consider the stupid Fae woman was hardly deserving of such much of his attention- that she, too, was almost so overly gentle in disposition that it was perhaps the very equivalent to kicking a puppy and yet the notion that it was Tetradore's puppy was perhaps vastly more intriguing to him. His dislike of the man stirs within him once more as the very first touches of the panthers scent seemed to find him as he crossed so easily over that borderline to allow the violet of his gaze to follow the woman as she hurried along.

It is decidedly easy to call his own affinity to life, summoning those illusions to his command, allowing the very Fae women Samantha so feared to materialize around him. The images her mind had provided him that day within her kitchen assuring that the illusions held a near flawless realism to their figures and the very creatures she so feared. One hand waves lightly, sending the illusions from him, allowing them to linger too within the shadows to shift and turn so upon the peripheral of the woman's vision. Why not allow her to believe something lingered in the shadows? That something watched her just outside of her vision? The fear of her mind surely filling in those spaces that so remained. How desperately easy it was to so render the poor girl into a state of panic, those violet eyes rolling ever so slightly as her pace so began to quicken and the nervousness that so afflicted her began to become apparent in hr very scent. For several moments longer the stallion merely watches before one arm extends upward, catching the edge of the broken roof of the warehouse, hoisting himself up and onto the roof with ease- such a position affording the man a near perfect view of the girl. His powers, after all, were little more than guesswork when he could not see his target.

His shoes are near silent atop those old steel ceilings, hands tucked into his pockets as he simply begins to follow along beside the woman, above and out of her view as he continues to coax those illusions into life. One illusionary Fae giggles before ducking into an alleyway, the other two given to whisper from somewhere within the shadows, Frost content to assure Samantha could hear those terrifying hushed voices that so seemed to hold the promise of her own destruction. There is, something, somewhere within him that is aware that this is....cruel, that she hardly deserved this and yet- had he deserved anything he had been dealt? He had been like her once, so very long ago, so willing to believe the world was good and easy and simple and oh ow he had been lied to. How readily that had been beaten out of him. He was doing her a favour, truly, if he didn't then someone else surely would. Perhaps she might grow a little spine in the wake of it, god knows Tetradore could use a girl with a little more spark then this. Collateral damage. That was all she was. Unfortunate but true.

His hand flicks lightly once more, sending one illusionary Fae out from within the shadows, her features crafted so neatly to resemble the very image Samantha had shown him within her mind once before- the Illusion Fae striding down the street behind her, Samantha's name upon her lips- waiting for the girl to turn around. Samantha! Darling! We have been looking for you, we thought you were hiding from us, but you would never do that would you? Come now, we want you to come with us, you belong to us. It is easy then, to allow the other to Illusionary Girls to appear before her, surrounding her amongst them, the other two giggling in delight as the leader so extended one hand to Samantha- as if the girl might be coaxed to take it. After all, were the Fae not known for their love of abduction?


Frostbite
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