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
I can tell the instant that I choose to talk back to her that I'm dealing with either a woman grown up in harsh conditions and taught to be just as good as one of the boys, a fighter who learned not to take crap from anyone and is used to giving orders instead of taking them....or a woman on her period. Either way, I'm already amused. She looks up at me for the first time and I look into dark mocha brown eyes. Exotic, sexy. She doesn't look at all amused by me. I tilt my head and hold up my hand, wiggling my fingers. "Well? Will it be piggy number one, two, or three? Or do you believe in taking out four with one swipe? Indulge me, I'm curious." She seems even less amused to know that I'm willing to hold a full on conversation with her now. Uh oh, what did she do to deserve this? She sets the dagger down on the counter and my wandering gaze moves to it hungrily. What can I say? I like weapons, what can I say? As she stands, I admire the charcoal locks falling across her shoulders, choosing to ignore the finger tapping on the counter. She doesn't seem to take kindly at all to me teasing her about the dagger and the weapons all around her. She almost looks offended but I would hard pressed to figure out which part of my teasing could offend. I tend to put insults in everyday speech all the time. Some find it witty and charming, others offensive and annoying. I'd say she's the latter. I tilt my head as she goes off on her little rant, chuckling when she's done. "Easy, spitfire. I'm just checking out what could well be my future supplier. I'm somewhat of a collector. As for the sake of your contentment, I'm free pretty much any day of the week that you want to, as you say, use your beautiful things on the raging idiots or even douse your liver. I'm a pretty open minded guy." I grin and move closer to the counter, waving my hand toward the dagger she was cleaning while, of course, never trying to actually touch me. "So what's the story on this piece? They say most weapons have their own story, something that makes them meaningful and worthy of holding on display in a shop. You just like to polish the small things or does it mean something to you?" I let my glittering hazel eyes do the talking with the double inuendo. |