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

We wait for darkness and Orion's call


Posted on April 14, 2017 by Florentine Winter
West
FLORENTINE WINTER

Flora runs fleet-footed through dingy streets. Her feet are little more than whispers over the damp stone compared to the great thumping of the fat, old man behind her. When the heavy thuds grow quieter and quieter and the distance has grown to the point it is unfair (on him), Flora stops and turns in the street.

"Thank you!" Florentine cries, her smile beautiful even through the dirt on her face. The ruby necklace she holds up glints like a droplet of wet blood in the lamplight. It was worth more money that she or Kearn would ever know. She wanted to keep it, her magpie eyes gleaming as she takes in its delicate, lavishly gold chain. Pretty things; she was growing to like them more and more. Maybe she was more of a girl than she thought...

"It's okay," She placates the huffing-puffing jeweler, "the money we can get for it will be used for great things â€" not shady at all!" She smirks, knowing the old man will see through her thinly veiled lie. "Besides, you have lots of necklaces â€" what is one absent one to you?"

In the midst of the street, bystanders staring at the child-thief and her furious, slowly advancing victim. "You might want to stop... your face..." The necklace lowers, the girl's head tilting to better survey the man. "Are you okay?" His red face was beginning to turn mottled purple with his fury and effort. "You're not gunna die are you? Too many pies and not enough running, clearly!"

Realising he was not going to cease pursuit and not keen to linger and watch a man die on her (Kearn would not be pleased), Florentine shrugs and spins. Her braid slices through the air as her torn, woeful trainers carry her swiftly towards the docks.

By the time she reaches the docks the old jeweler is long gone, abandoned some 7 streets away clutching his knees and cursing the day she was born. Unperturbed, Flora skips through the maze of metal harbor buildings, the sea-salt air tugging at the wild tendrils that have escaped her braid. From the pocket of her woefully thin coat, she pulls a black, folded beanie hat and jerks it onto her head. It helps her to sink more into the shadows and she stows her dagger beneath her coat.

A quick glance to the moon tells her all she needs to know â€" she is late. She can hear Kearn's reprimands in the incessant chattering of the sea as it breaks against the dock. It does little to make her limbs move any faster than the merry skipping rhythm they have fostered. She knew how to handle Kearn and his grumpy ways.

"Of course you would find a naked woman." The child chimes as she rounds a corner to find Kearn hunched over the stranger, his coat adorning her shoulders and her fingers clutching it closed. She pauses for a moment to take in the wicked blade glinting malevolently beside the naked girl and her question, hesitant, wild â€" the grumbling of a lion. "You are a hunter." Flora says too matter-of-fact, "and a naked one at that." An eyebrow rises and it is a wonder the child has ever made it this far in life, baiting lions. "It's a bit cold to be roaming around naked y'know." She says casually to the stranger. "Jack Frost has a way of biting off your toes and fingers if you're not careful. He nearly took one of Kearn's toes, looks very purple in the cold." With her nose wrinkled she points to his foot, as if the offending toe could be seen through his scuffed shoes.

Finally remembering the task at hand â€" well, one of them - Flora holds out the ruby necklace. It drops to dangle from a small, slender finger, swaying and glittering merrily in the low light between the three of them.

"Got your necklace." She says to Kearn, her eyes keenly watching the ruby before flitting away to the naked girl. "So, whose your friend? Don't you think we had better get her something more substantial than just your coat?" Wide eyes, verdantly green, lay themselves accusingly upon Kearn. They didn't want a repeat of his frostbite issue...

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