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
Well, here I am. All alone sitting in the darkened corner. It felt kind of surreal in a way. I felt as if I was looking from the outside in, everyone seemed electrified and filled with happiness. I was happy, but I wasn't that happy. Maybe it's because everyone felt connected with those they spent time with or maybe it was the alcohol. Oh look I see a group of males taking Irish car bombs...so yea I am going to say it may just be the alcohol. It actually felt refreshing to be with amongst my own kind. I could faintly feel a buzzing sensation, it either started from my head or chest, but it was overwhelming me completely. I forgot what it was like. I haven't feel this connection ever since I left my own pack. Most of my time was spent either with Dark Hunters, humans, or horses. I couldn't really connect with the humans. I still felt a bit weary around Dark Hunters, even though I knew Alex wouldn't kill me...I guess it is just one of those fight or flight senses that won't go away. As for the horses, well they were animals, and although I couldn't connect perfectly with them, they at least helped ease the detachment I felt. Every now and then when I was near a Were or two, like Alexis or Abby, I felt a small amount of what I am feeling now. I do like this feeling this sense of belonging and being amongst my own kind, I really should come here more often when I get the chance.
The fights were actually quite interesting. I remember in school my friends and I would have a 'What If' conversation. Like, what would happen if Hitler did win World War 2? What would happen if the sun exploded? What would happen if the Confederate army won? What would happen if I put glue on Mr. Harrold's chair? What would happen if you had a lion and tiger fight one another, who would win? Well, I am having those 'What If' moments right now playing right before. In one side of the ring I have a water buffalo and in the other I have a panther, who apparently was the Were who ran this place. Good. While he is focused on trying to fight the water buffalo, I don't have to focus so much on blocking anyone's senses. I am not a person that likes to bet, but if I had any decent amount of money I'd choose the predator over the prey. Watching the fight reminds me a few things like, no way in hell would I ever step in that ring, even if I was paired up with a bunny, or another thing â€" don't piss off mister kitty claws over there. Of course he would win his fight and while everyone cheers I simply sit there, and take a small sip of my drink, watching how some handed over cash, or watches, or whatever prized item they had betted on. As the crowd thickens to stand to congratulate him or move around or whatever I lose sight of him.
Quietly I stare at my drink, when suddenly that fight or flight feeling kicks in....this can't be good. I look up and there is some man with emerald eyes looking at me, and I can't help but avert my eyes. Shoo go away Mister, I am in no mood being hit on. It is only then do I feel his presence coming closer that I dare look up, and lo and behold he is standing right there. It's me and the table and then him. I catch his scent and I know very damn well he's the one that was just in the ring. Well fuck. All that warm fuzzy feeling, and success of sneaking in here undetected is gone. Nope. I am no longer having fun. No fun what so ever. His comment causes me to scowl and I tilt my head to the side, one eyebrow raised. Seriously? I know my species is banned, but I was kinda hoping it was all a joke. I mean sure I was trying to be careful coming in, just as a precaution, but seriously. This is absolutely ridiculous. Now of course I can't go to the manager and complain, because well here is the 'manager' standing right here before me. Well, if I was going to die today, I guess standing up for myself wouldn't be a bad thing. As soon as he was done telling me I wasn't allowed to be in here I utter a quick sardonic retort.
"Really? We're going to be racist now are we?"
You know Frost never told me if predators and prey animals got along. I would assume they wouldn't. I mean how can one be friends with someone that could kill and eat them? Which leads me to ponder on the very thought that cannibalism could exist. On second thought I really don't want to know. So, I'm not sure what to do before a Were King. Frost didn't call himself a King, but he never called himself a douche either. Am I supposed to bow? I don't bow to Alexander the Great and he's an ancient King. So, I lower my head slightly, at least acknowledging the fact he was an Alpha and I was just...well insignificant. After all this was his territory and I was a guest, well actually an unwanted guest that snuck in. Man, I am really not setting myself up for success here. It's his accusation of me being Frost's that causes my jaw to lock up. For one thing I am surprised he knew of my connection Frost. I don't really know any Weres, and I've never uttered to anyone who my creator was. So, how the hell does he know? Sadly though I am in no mood to think this thoroughly. Because, you see...he just struck a nerve, a very sore nerve. Oh he has gone and done it now. All right buddy...I may not be a bull or a water buffalo, but you're gonna have to dodge some horns again! Prickled, my eyes narrow as I utter a firm, but curt reply.
"I am his, and I'm not his. I left his pack about eight months ago after he turned me. He claimed it was an accident."
Well, it is the truth. In a way he was my creator, which basically makes me his. At the same time I am no longer in his pack so that bond between us is broken. There is a bond that I feel every now and then when the full moon occurs and it aches. It is not severed sadly. This I know is what we have. Does he feel pain when he feels it? I bet not. I am fairly certain I have never crossed his mind since the day I packed up and left. I do not like how his emerald eyes are tearing into me, as if I had done something despicable. I'm innocent over here and I'll happily prove it. This is such a sore topic that it took everything I had to keep my voice low and in control, oh but I'm pretty sure there was resentment in my voice that I couldn't hide.
"I didn't know he harmed someone from this pack until a few days before I left. The Were-population loves to gossip you know. He was wanting to bring your sister into our pack. I warned him he was threatening our lives, wanting to start a war and all that but he didn't listen. So, I left. Would you want to stay with someone that didn't have a care for your well-being? Since then I haven't heard from him, I haven't seen him, and I haven't felt him through our bond. How could he send me here, if I don't even exist to him anymore?"
I tear my eyes away from him as I focus on the water condensation of my drink. I can actually feel my face warming up, my pale face suddenly turning crimson. I knew I felt a lot of anger towards my creator, but I didn't know I had this much. I thought it had slowly ebbed away. Apparently not. I can feel my body shake not out of fear, but a mixture of rage and grief colliding into one another. I know I accepted that I can't change who I am. I can't change the fact that I am a Were-Horse, or that I was created by someone this Were-King didn't like. I'm just a simple pawn cast aside, useless and unnecessary. The unsteady silence between us was enough to slowly allow my anger to subside leaving in its wake despair. With a soft sigh I shake my head as my shoulders shrug and then slump in a forfeited manner. Darkly I grumble weakly, speaking aloud what I have debated and had trouble with for a very long time.
"He created me. You'd think as his creation, he'd want me around or at least be responsible and help me with this transition, since it's his damn fault I'm like this. I guess not. I didn't choose to become a Were, I didn't choose to become his. And if I did choose to be a Were, I wouldn't have chosen a horse."
It feels weird, but I feel farther away now from everyone around me. It's like I'm looking from the outside looking in...but much farther away. I don't dare look at him. I don't need his sympathy, whether he is willing to give it or not. I am nothing more than a pawn in this game called life, and although I wasn't please with my role, I was growing to accept it more and more each day. Gingerly I take a sip of my drink again, grateful for the cool feeling of the liquid going down my throat. I am fairly certain my presence here won't be wanted, and yet I didn't feel like going just yet. I wanted to remember this feeling of being surrounded by my own kind, being close to them for a change, before it would disappear again. I don't know if he believed me. Everything I said was true, but he can decide whatever he wished. I know the truth, and that's all that matters right? I can't hide the dejection in my eyes, as I look back up at him, my voice much softer over the loud noise of his patrons.
"Now, before you throw me out, may I please finish my drink? It's my Birthday after all."
Calliel Alosi
Now I'm Unbreakable, It's Unmistakable