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
Dareios wasn't an avid user of public transportation. With several dozen delectable sports cars in his possession, he didn't much have a use for it. Not to mention his gift of super speed -- it didn't take him long to get anywhere in the city, when need be. But tonight, the vampire wasn't in any rush. He stood coolly on the deck of the only train station in Anacosta Heights. It was nearly deserted at this time of night. One hand cupped at the end of his cigar as he struggled to light it. The passing metros screeched through the station, sending the short, manicured locks atop his head in a brief flutter. Briefly he lifted his head to spy at the pixel monitor dangling overhead, the volume was muted, but a ticker at the bottom of the screen was running the local and national headlines. Within seconds, Dareios' own face appeared on the screen. His porcelain skin looked even more translucent in the heave of flashing bulbs from cameras. Earlier in the day Dareios had passed an ordinance outlawing employment discrimination based on species. Since it was daylight when the ordinance had passed, he wasn't there in person. But apparently the news needed some sort of visual, so they were using footage of him from his victory party at Red On The Water from some months back. Once the S-line train arrived, he was the only to step inside what turned out to be an equally empty car. So the vampire didn't both to put out the cigar. But he couldn't help but feel somewhat disappointed. He'd chosen this path for the lackadaisical experience it offered and for the opportunity to people watch. All while he lazily made his way to an actual destination. Tonight Dareios was traveling to the far-reaching ends of Sacrosanct for business. But not government business. Most of his usual business dealings had been put on the back burner since Dareios had taken on this new, high profile role in the city. But enough time had passed for him to get his bearings (the public appearances, the bickering with other commission members, the galas and the luncheons and the likes) to find a way to balance his civic responsibilities with his more lucrative ones. The train sloshed its way down the tracks, and Dareios found himself feeling rather relaxed in the sterile car under its blinding florescent lights. He pressed the back of his head against the cold glass window and rested his eyes, listening to the shuttering of the metal box as it eased its way down the trail. It didn't take long for it to reach the West side of town. This side of the city always reminded him of the night he met Sorcha. He had drank from a human that night, for the first time in quite a long time, and clearly had not been himself. But still, she sought him out after it all. Tonight was different, clearly. He wasn't high from feeding and he didn't have any plans of wandering around in the alleyways with a pretty witch. It had been difficult to to separate himself from the security loons that tailed him most days. Dareios understood the risk that came with this job -- there were plenty of people out there who didn't care for an open vampire running their city. Dark hunters, and the threats that came from them, filed into his office daily. But to this day, Dareios had never had a close encounter with one. Well, not since he met that blond-haired boy in the suburbs, but that was an entirely unrelated situation. His phone lead him where he intended to go, and silently Dareios thanked the device before swiping it to sleep and returning it to his pocket as he left the train station. When you're as old as he is, it's easy to still be fascinated with the world and all its advances. Never would he have guessed such a thing would exist one hundred years ago. Perhaps if he had known, he would have found a more legitimate way to generate his wealth. The vampire stopped for a minute to assess the bleak and damp corner in which he was supposed to make his drop. It was quiet, almost too quiet, but within seconds, he spied the envelope of cash he was sent to receive taped neatly under a dilapidated bench. Dareios strode over with ease, bending down neatly to collect what was his, and tucking it gingerly into his breast pocket. He looked down at the end of the cigar that sputtered between his fingers, and flicked it into the puddle at his feet. Dareios Auerbach | Vampire | Vinyl |