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

In one hand she held a crescent-moon blade


Posted on March 27, 2017 by Karou
West

The blade sings with the throb of his pulse and she feels its beat up, up into her fingers that clutch the leather and gilt handle. For every beat she feels of his heart, she wonders if he can feel hers â€" pressed close at they were. Her lips are at the corner of his jaw her breathes fanning across his cheek. Here, close to the heat of his throat â€" to the heat of his skin â€" she smells the scent of his cologne and the city scents that have already begun to work into the fabric of his coat.

He talks of his innocence and she smiles at the thought. The curl of her lips is a beautiful thing yet it is too, too sparse of humour. "But I have not assaulted you, yet." She murmurs her threat, whisper soft to him, even as her eyes dart, gazelle-alert, to their surroundings.

In the darkness of this metal maze she knows nothing of this man but the tone and weight of his muscles at his shoulder. Karou's other hand clasps him there feeling their sinuous flexing, as she waits for him to move, to attack. Yet there is nothing dangerous about him; no faerie, vampire or were scents to mar his skin. He is simple, human, yet her mind â€" her heart â€" whispers that it makes him no less dangerous.

Even as a beautifully twisted irony dawns upon her, Karou keeps him close. She is the dangerous one after all; she is the tiger with a claw at his throat and a gazelle heart pounding in her chest. The winds creep forwards to placate her with a soft, soft whisper across her neck that stirs the black waves of her hair.

His words, bold and brave and endearingly foolish, thread humour into her once empty smile. His words paint her more beautiful still with the humour they lure from the darkness of her flighty heart. "Stay." She orders him as softly as plea, "or else I shall take more than just your empty wallet."

Karou falls away from him, her blade whispering petulant laments into the night as she draws it back, cold and clean, from the curve of his throat. In silence she levels the blade to his chest, her shadowed eyes glinting in the lamp-lit night. She circles him, stepping into the orange glow cast down from the overhead road.

The streetlight turns to a spotlight allowing each their moment of perusal as the night ebbs into the quieter sounds of early, early morning. That same light skitters along her blade and dances across the delicate lines of her face. There is a wildness to her, a flightiness forged from her tribal birth in the desert dusts and gilded by decades of solitary wanderings.

Drinking him in, his human essence and the grim surprise in his eyes, she finally sheaths her blade against her thigh. Her guard lowers as she lifts the collar of her coat against the wind. She is grateful for the soft of her well-weathered jeans as she stands before him in the cool of the harbor's night. "Why were you following me? You are lucky I did not end you like the vampire I was hunting. I do not react well to surprises."

karou varela
in one hand she held a crescent-moon blade*

Replies