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

how the devil himself could be pulled outta me


Posted on September 11, 2016 by Rixon Leifsson
West
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The woman's healing had, in the least, returned some sense of clarity to the man- that wound upon his chest so slowly beginning to knot back together at least enough to clot the blood that had so freely flowed from it. Several other small bruises and burns darkening a little with that healing process and allowing the man even the smallest amount of relief. Nadya's power, as he anticipated, was hardly enough to afford him healing in its entirety, Frost assured he would need Edie's assistance in this too and yet for now at least she had so managed to allow some return to his own natural Were-healing though the process remained sluggish and slow. That drain upon his body, that loss of blood and too those chemicals that still coated his bloodstream working so entirely against him in every way and so hindering his own powers. Nadya's kiss having merely afforded him at least some relief from the sheer weight of the effort his own healing would take. If he could only find himself well enough to so summon his powers it would prove decidedly easy to transfer his wounds to another and rid himself of this weakness entirely. How he loathed being this way, allowing another to see him in this state- no part of the man content in this. His very nature, let alone that of his species, a prey animal, so inclined to display his injuries and yet in this he held little choice.

The thanks he so affords the woman is nothing if not genuine despite the indifference that so seems to afflict his tone, one hand running back to push the white hair from his features, freeing his eyes of those bloodied strands and so allowing him an unobstructed view of the world- the edges of it seeming far less fuzzy in that moment as his gaze so fixates upon the woman beside him. A snort of sorts readily leaves the man at the tease she affords him, those words barely free of her lips before he rolls just enough to pull her against him once more and so allows his lips to find her own again in perhaps the boldest of moves the stallion has so afforded her yet. Frost is a decidedly guarded being at the best of times, such actions so rarely drawn from a man so.....unused to showing affection in any sense of the word. Emotions decidedly unexplored territory and yet he finds himself relishing in that taste of her. He can feel that sudden wave of healing once more, Frost momentarily strengthening that kiss as more of his own energy returns, the healing of his own body rapidly beginning to take over now.

The way in which the woman had so shifted to straddle him was hardly unnoticed, his own hands lifting now to gently rest either side of her face and so hold the woman to him- those first touches of heat and this subtle return to his power so seeing those lazy tendrils embrace the pair now before Nadya finally pulls away- Frost merely allowing his hands to drop, resting now on either side of her waist in perhaps the most intimate of states they have ever been within. His ability to so read her thoughts was still unreachable to him, that kind of power far more then he could reach now and yet he found himself truly desiring it in this moment if only to offer him some awareness of what thoughts turned within her mind. Of all the years he had spent in the company of women- how little he knew of them sometimes, the man finding himself almost uneasy in the wake of these...gestures he had offered. They were foreign to him, the man half expecting Nadya to simply leave as she always did, that violet gaze flicking to her own in the wake of those whispered words. What was this? It takes his mind a little longer ten it surely should to perceive that sentence and so formulate those words as his own sigh at last parts his lips though the man makes little move to release her from his grasp.

"I like you, Nadya. I would have you for more than a pack mate."

He utters the words softly and yet easily all the same- assured of them despite the length of time it had taken for him to admit to them. Emotion so entirely outside of his reach, the man never before having truly felt any sense of....affection for another in this sense. It was new to him, just as such an admittance was. This a decidedly new sense of vulnerability he hardly found he liked. Yet that this might so encourage the woman to make her decision on just where she desired to reside had hardly failed to occur to him. He could not wait forever for her to make that choice between himself and her brother- how tight those tensions were becoming- her sudden request to his name seeing his attention return to her. Nadya it seemed, was not inclined to forget anything. A request for his true name however was....more then perhaps she anticipated. He would keep his word all the same and yet it is some effort to make her understand such a request that sees that frown touch his features as he speaks once more.

"Birth names are....personal, within my culture, more so then I think perhaps you anticipate. Only family or those we are strongly connected to use those names and if I afford you knowledge of it I would rather you used it only when there are no others to hear, it is...simply our beliefs that it works this way."

There were truly few aspects of his own culture the ma still clung to and yet this was decidedly one of them. Yet he had hardly spoken his own name in...years, none but his Mother even give to call him by it- perhaps Riot on occasion and even then such things were rare and reserved for those more gentle of moments. That decidedly accented tone returning to his words now.

" It is Ríkarður. Though many cannot pronounce it, in English it is better said as Rixon if you find that easier- you may use either one."

It was a word almost foreign to his own tongue, most given to butcher it so decidedly Frost had given up its use entirely- his attention returned to the woman now and yet his desires in this remained so notably unfulfilled. Frost leaning upward once more to press his lips just below her jaw, letting them brush lightly downward and towards her shoulder now- acting upon those desires he had maintained for rather a long time though he anticipated her pulling away all the same as she so often did.

Frostbite
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