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
years I've walked in the coldest winds
from sorrow and pain I find my strength
the more I hurt, the clearer I see.
It was hardly difficult for Tetradore to put together the pieces of that night. After all, he knew well what the man before him was, just as he knew the extent of which he had refused to believed what he was. It was only a matter of time till Henry harmed someone at the rate he was going. That confusion that marred the man's features was altogether ignored, as too was the admittance that the person Henry loved was a man. In truth, the affairs of others were scarcely of interest to him, diminished even more so with the knowledge that Henry clearly was in a relationship. What did bring a soft sigh of relief from his lips, however, was the mention of 'warlock'. "Then he should be fine..." He muttered softly, concerned more for the man's capability to be infected by their disease than his actual ability to heal from what surely would have been a rather...violent mauling. That assumption only moment's later confirmed as Henry so spoke of the blood that had littered that room in which he'd awoken in. That did not sound promising. Although that status of a warlock kept that stranger safe from the infection, it hardly made him any less mortal. "Is he all right?" He inquired softly, almost with a hint of concern purely for the effect it would surely have held upon his charge.
He understood well that desire to ensure he harmed no one, it was a feeling that had pervaded much of Tetradore's youth and one he fully intended to help with, if Henry was willing to put in the effort. His head bobbed at that declaration that Henry was prepared to do anything to ensure the safety of this warlock. It would have to be enough, for now. Tetradore paused, finally seeing fit to introduce himself to the man in front of him and, in exchange, he was finally given an actual name to call his Vector by. Henry. "You need to be here the night of every full moon before sunset. It's once every twenty eight days. I'm serious Henry, I'll text you to remind you. Come on, I want to get out of this blasted cold if we're going to shift." He wanted to see that feral creature within the man, he needed to see it, to establish his own dominance over that half of him. It was a necessity before he even so much as considered introducing that cat to the rest of the Nightshade pack - but, he intended to do so only in the warmth of...well...somewhere inside. His gaze turned towards one of the nearby warehouses, accepting that reprieve from the wind at the very least. It was only once they were inside that Tetradore began to shed those clothes, first the jacket, followed by his shirt and his pants - letting them pile rather neatly on the floor before his gaze rose almost expectantly for Henry to follow suit.
aiden tetradore