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 13, 2014 by Tobias
West
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It is not within him, not truly, to feel shame or embarrassment, such complex emotions so far beyond his conscious grasp and yet the matter of Syn and 'Risky' has become something of a sore point for the young man, some part of himself unwilling to either admit or accept his current predicament, he is hardly embarrassed, more so, he simply desires such information be kept entirely to himself, seeing no need to share such things his mind perhaps unable to perceive entirely the nature of his relationship with the vampire women and as such refrains from attempting, the word 'pet' one he refuses to use, becoming increasingly distressed if not violent when it is. Some part of him simply loathing this moniker. Raven's assurance however, that Risky was not invited seems to please him, if only momentarily, content to be away from her, if only for a few hours, the rising of the sun sure to see her demand his return. Though truly perhaps, she hardly needs to summon him, he simply will not abandon his companion and as such sees fit to return each time he manages an escape, unwilling to leave Tetradore behind.

His amusement with the balloon is a seemingly short-lived adventure, fingers swatting at it with delighted teasing, still attempting to swallow much of his treat at the same time, a miracle perhaps that he does not choke before the unfortunate ball of rubber is given to fall heavily against an up-turned nail, the delicate surface readily pierced as it explodes in a cacophony of sound that sees the young deviant yelp as he runs from it, bare feet scrambling against the floor before he moves to take cover behind a pile of crates, hissing and spitting even within his human form as he attempts to conceal himself from the clearly violent object that had so lured him into a false sense of security. Dark eyes remain narrowed in wary apprehension as the woman returns, kneeling down in front of him in some effort to appear placating, his gaze merely looking beyond her and towards what remains of his assailant. Her coming words do little to appease him, so much of his form still tensely held in the manner only a cat can achieve when something is given to be alarming, dark eyes slicing towards her hands as she moves to make a cross of sorts against her chest, the action earning little more then a blank stare as he huffs slightly, the balloon clearly dead and no longer a concern as he moves to stand once more, detangling himself from the shadows to shove pas the she-wolf once more.

"I wasn't....scared!"

He snaps the words towards her with clear disdain, evidently displeased with the knowledge she may have thought him afraid, that volatile temper on display once more as his arms fold over his chest and he moves to storm back towards the bits of rubber, glaring down towards them with ready discord, features contorted into a look of vague curiosity as matted, chocolate and marshmallow hair fell about his features, his name on her lips seeming him turn once more, meeting her gaze in the half light of the room. That the woman is clearly attempting to make some sort of deal with him sees his head tilt once more. For all his perceived child-like behaviour the boy is an unmistakably cunning creature, mind readily seizing upon what she offers as he begins to turn it over piece by piece, one hand moving to touch at the thick ebony of his hair, a favoured part of himself, one Naddy seems to adore grabbing during there less gentle activities, fingers brushing through the sticky mess he has created. Her mention of 'wash out' however, sees his eyes narrowed darkly, features contorted into a glower of sorts as he regards her.

"I do not.....like...the water."

This, perhaps, is an understatement, the moment in which Nadya had pushed him into the pool resulting in near hysterical yowling followed by his attempts to drown the girl, claws raking wounds into her sides simply because he had been forced to get wet, his fear of anything liquid seeming to flare in these moments, over-powering perhaps, his desire to have the curl-haired woman do as he pleases though indeed the offer remains tempting within itself. He seems to consider for a moment more, thoughts turned easily within the confines of his fractured mind before he moves to display his hands alone, held towards her as if seemingly for inspection.

"Just....my hands....I can fix....my hair....myself."

He is sure he can lick out whatever is stuck in it, convinced his method is surely superior to Birdie's, obliviously to the fact this will hardly work yet seeing fit to remain belligerent all the same. He desires to have her do as he commands, the creature so readily desiring such power of others and yet it would seem, at the price of getting wet- it is far to high, willing to concede his hands alone, attempting to deal with her right back in turn, if only to further advance his own ideals.

"I do not want....you to cut my....hair. Naddy will be....mad."

Perhaps not entirely as mad as Risque should she find him in this state and yet in this moment he is seemingly content to think with things other then his mind, his pack mate seeming to delight in those thick, dark locks and as such he has no desire for Birdie to ruin them as he believes she will with her water and scissors, the single experience he has held previously assuring him that when water is involved with hair, scissors normally follow.

"Just my hands....and you will....do what I want?"

If he cannot find a loophole- he will make one.





your gunna hear me roar
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