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

For me she left her wings.


Posted on May 05, 2017 by Florentine Winter
West
FLORENTINE WINTER

The stairs are horrified when Florentine ascends them. It is quite a feat that, even with the soft fabric of her well-worn trainers, the pick-pocket can make such a ruckus. Her feet know how to whisper, they know how to scale stairs and walls with such silent grace that not even the buildings know she is there...

But Flora does not bother with silence or grace now - not even when Kearn ascends in a whispered breath and Calliope a soft hiss of static... No, Flora stomps each foot - upon each stair - with such heaviness that the stairs clang and rattle their shock and disapproval.

Once within the confines of Xenia Manufacturing, within the sweeping expanse of their warehouse home, the concrete floors swallow the stomp of her small feet, the indelicate way in which she moves. How is it that an elephant so heavy of foot can turn into a creature as fleet footed as a cunning fox? Well, it is just one of the many mysteries of Florentine, is it not?

She flits across the room, a contrast to the girl of a few moments ago, and plucks a lavender hued flower from the vase, lifting it to her nose. It was sweet to her nose and delicate to her touch, each petal tickling its way across her cheek. Flora yearns for more purple flowers, for more wild flowers, but the request does not find its way to her tongue. It never would, for Kearn's protégé is grateful for every flower he brings through their door and every dream they stir within her.

She is lost in dreams now, in their memories that curl her lips, and so it is a surprise when Calliope's question shatters the small silence that has fallen over the trio. "No you're bloody not supposed to kill us!" The child barks, aghast. Horror laced with fear and a teaspoon of pride, ripple through her as her eyes narrow. The flower, delicate and sweet, becomes a weapon as Flora points it at the naked girl.

"We are humans!" She clarifies, dragging the word out slowly. It was clearly not just her clothes that Calliope lost... "Humans are... the lowest of the low. We have no magic. We struggle even to say boo to a goose." Flora adds with a sly, knowing glance to Kearn. They may indeed be the lowest of the low, but their targets would never label them as weak or powerless. Kearns power was his smarts and Florentine's, well, it was her ability to talk her way out of any situation. Oh, and run like the wind when all else failed.

Dark eyes narrow upon Kearn as he tasks her with finding clothes for their now housemate. Replacing the flower with every bit of the grace with which she ascended the stairs, Flora stomps to the bathroom.

The room was sparse and spacious, but above all, functional. The sink was cracked and blended well with the simple theme of their abode. The slipper bath and makeshift shower, however, were amusingly opulent compared to the modest living quarters. But that is what you got when you raided skips on the posh side of town. Perched precariously upon the edge of the bath, was a rubber duck. It was so delightfully normal in an otherwise topsy-turvy world.

This is all Kearn's fault. Florentine's thoughts declare as she turns from her rubber duck to survey the naked woman before her. She had never quite seen so much flesh on show before and it only served to make her feel... weird. She blinks, huffing before she turns to leave, peering back to Calliope enough to gesture to the utilities. "I'll get you some clothes â€" feel free to wash up."

Returning a moment later, clothes in hand, the girl pauses in the doorway, her eyes flitting to the unicorn horn still grasped in the strange girl's hand. "I dream of unicorns you know... and horses that fly." Then quieter, "Lots of flying horses..." Flora trails off, ruminating, as she lays the clothes upon a rickety stool beside the bath.

Rousing herself from her thoughts the child smiles, bright and beautiful and fake, "Clean up as you will, but don't take too long. Kearn gets grumpy easily." Her eyebrows lift in a pointed warning before she closes the door with a click, Kearn's coat slung across her arm.

Tossing the coat at him, she collapses upon the sofa adjacent to his, the familiar smell of old metal and wood easing her nerves. "Well, you really do find 'em. Are you going to tell me exactly how you found her? And don't tell me she fell out of the sky," She rolled her eyes, "I didn't believe you last time and I wont believe you this time either!"

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