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

:: He'll Only Break Your Heart ::


Posted on June 11, 2014 by Tobias
West
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He is not such a creature it would seem, that is given to pay attention to the deformities of the woman, the scars that align her flesh seemingly invisible to his gaze, the man unable, truly, to perceive such imperfections, his mind simply not wired in such a manner, the appearance of others so unimportant within a boy whom cannot perceive beauty even within himself. It simply does not matter and as such he pays no heed to her looks. He sees only what is, understands only that her face is marked as such and requires no more. He understands scars to some extent, holds a knowledge of their existence and yet by very nature of his blood and breeding his own body holds to very few, each wound and scrap healed as hers have not, though why cannot be said, her look met with a ready grin and no else as he moves to trial along behind her, his mention of a party seeing her own features frown once more- before she concedes to this desire. That she does not understand, or more so, claims never to have been to a party sees the boys head tilt once more, dark hair knotting within the length of his lashes as his own frown traces the youth of his face.

"I think...that maybe...Syn is like...party but....I do not like that. Can we not invite...Risky?"

He holds no ability, it would seem, to pronounce the name of his vampire mistress, managing little more then his attempt at her moniker, desiring indeed that the vampire woman should remain entirely uninvited to this late night party, if indeed such a gathering of two can be considered as such, his understanding of parties limited entirely to a single event that rests within his mind. It is an old memory however, rusted and dust covered within the confines of his fractured mind, those blissful childhood days lots within the memories of cold and rain and ash and flame that had so eclipsed those younger years- his entire pack perhaps, or what remained of them- having all been robbed such things and yet from what shattered tendrils remain the boy is content to piece them together- although why cannot truly be said, his mind seemingly assured that night time and food equates to such a thing, determined that the curly haired woman should be forced to celebrate whatever event it is the deviant deems they are celebrating.

"I went to....another party once. For...Tetra's birthday....he let me have...the boxes."

That a nine-year old Tetradore had been willing to share the empty boxes of his birthday with his young friend was clearly an event the boy remembers, so much else lost within his fractured, broken existence and yet for whatever reason this he remembers, so many hours spent within the pile of boxes he had been given, holding no true interest in the toys themselves- his mind far more content to explore the confines of cardboard and wrapping paper while his companion played with all manner of gifts. Tobias had never had a birthday, not truly, his lack of parentage and young age assuring no one within his adopted family had held any true knowledge of his birthday by which to celebrate, the birthdays of Nadya and Aiden celebrated readily by the deviant instead, Mother and Father always managing to have something to give the shaggy haired boy all the same, for fear he may feel left out and yet his tolerance for parties was limited. He disliked the crowds, the noise, the gathering of aunts and uncles and the packs desire he should be clean, all of which resulted in such distress that they had simply allowed him to sit upon the outskirts, approaching only when he desired or when his brother became overwhelmed by the crowd. Yet still he remembers, his understanding of such an event limited though it is, assured that in some fashion that this exchanging of gifts and treats means a party of some sort is occurring.

The balloon he offers the woman is readily received, traded for the treat she hands him, eyes narrowing in slight wariness of this morsel before he moves away from her, paused only when his lean frame is out of her reach to bring it to his lips, as if he fears she may attempt to take it back, licking momentarily at the chocolate that sticks to his fingers and runs down his hands, that surgery taste seeming to delight the boy as he grins, hurriedly consuming the rest, moving to wipe the hair from his eyes, oblivious to the marshmallow and chocolate he streaks through those thick locks, the strands becoming hopelessly tangled and matted within moments as he does.

"Yes...good."

He simply repeats her words, licking at his fingers now. Sugar is a rare treat for the boy, his diet consisting nearly entirely of raw meat- by his own decision and yet sugar seems to be his downfall, the boy seeming to crave it, to delight in it, the discoveries of s'mores a thrilling one as he reaches readily for the next, snatching it hurriedly from the bench, turning his back once more to consume it, oblivious to the mess he is getting himself into before the chocolate hue of his gaze fixates upon the balloon she bounces against his finger, eyes widening as he edges towards her, the air filled rubber a clearly curious thing as his body becomes near liquid like in its grace, sliding silently along the floor until he stands behind the woman, one hand reaching up to snatch it from her grasp, proceeding to leap upon it with far more excitement then one should leap upon a balloon, the rubber ball flying out of his reach as he leaps for it again, the hissing sound in his throat akin to laughter as he lunges over and over- until the unfortunate balloon catches a nail, piercing the surface suddenly, the sudden and booming â€"BANG- resulting in quite the reaction.

"ARGHHHHHHH!"

The lanky boys entire frame seems to explode within the air as he leaps upward in an entirely cat-like reaction, his scream so very explosive it is a wonder he does not wake the entire building as he lunges suddenly behind a pile of boxes, furious human-like hissing and spitting coming from the depths of the shadows as he glares out towards what remains of the balloon that had so cruelly shot him, or so he believes.

"Bastard....attacked me."





your gunna hear me roar
HTML by Apollymi

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