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
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
lips that need no introduction (Phaedra)
Posted on March 20, 2017 by Blaise Duval
She settles herself firmly into the barstool, having assured Archer that she would be fine for the night and that he should go hunt for more leads on the amulet. She had intended to do the same, but bright lights and a creeping feeling of despair and failure had led her inside the bar instead. Her elbows rest on the wooden countertop, her hair a dark curtain half obscuring her face as she orders a whiskey sour. When the bartender returns with the drink, she downs it in a few swallows, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and ordering another.
Her green eyes shine bright with frustration and she picks at a snag in the bar's wood, chewing on her lip in a rather savage manner until her second drink arrives. She washes away the metallic twang of blood from her mouth with the refreshing bite of the whiskey sour and pays for the drinks, dropping down from the barstool with a lightness she could only attribute to the whiskey kicking in.
She'd become a lightweight from hardly drinking in the months of hiding from her past, ducking in dark corners to keep out of Vaughan's line of sight.
She's tired of hiding. With her face pinched into a scowl, she leaves the bar, her hands tucked into the pocket of her blue jeans. Her dark grey sweater helps her blend into the shadows, though not nearly enough that she wouldn't be spotted by anyone looking for trouble. She doesn't mind, though - maybe it's the whiskey talking, or the anger churning thick like lava in her veins. Whatever it is, it is volatile and violent, and for the first time in a long time, Blaise wants for a fight.
The battle song beats a drum in her head, and with a sinister smirk, she takes a turn towards the darker part of town, hoping to stir up a bit of trouble.
Archer would not be happy about this.