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
years I've walked in the coldest winds
from sorrow and pain I find my strength
the more I hurt, the clearer I see.
Tetradore was hardly surprised, really, that she deemed him as little more then weird. That idle comment that left his lips was largely far more philosophical than the young girl was truly capable of understanding. A small shrug crossed his shoulders and yet, for once, he hardly bothered to attempt to explain it to her. Instead, Tetradore merely watched as she was all too keen to near gulp down that beverage, then man entirely certain that with the way she so quickly drank it, she was likely going to be feeling the effects of it soon. That near giddy tone to her voice as she struggled to pronounce their words only caused his eyebrow to raise and yet, he said particularly little on her failure to utter those syllables. Rather, it was that inquiry of what he did for fun, however, that caused a frown upon his features, at least, until he spoke of the Ark and those races he often attended. The man was almost unaware of that glint to his emerald eyes or the way that smirk crossed his features, at least, not until Malia felt inclined to inform him that he was vastly more attractive like this.
Those emerald eyes rolled ever so slightly in her direction, the were-King instead inclined to comment on how, in her current state of mind, she was hardly fit for participation within those fights. Innately, he knew well that she had every intention of trying that ring. The young woman was far too feisty and reckless to not. Still, he saw little reason he could not show her what those races consisted of, much less stick her in the front of one of those drifting vehicles. Tetradore hardly expected the way her gaze seemed to near light up at just the notion of those races, her hands clasping together with such joy that it prompted a soft chuckle from his lips. The man stood, tossing some bills upon that table with little thought to how that action might be viewed by the young woman, much less the very argument she'd had with his very own vector of this same matter. Rather, instead Tetradore led her from that bar, keeping a close eye on her even as he took her to those far shadier parts of his side of town. He was hardly concerned, truly, of what other's might attempt, the man entirely certain his own presence would dissuade any efforts to take advantage of the clearly inebriated woman. Rather, what he was concerned for was her ability to walk in a straight line and not off the sidewalk and into the middle of the street.
Tetradore hardly spoke a word as she moved steadily closer towards him, that brush of her skin against his arm was almost altogether ignored as they stepped into that ever increasing crowd. That roar of engines was altogether familiar to him, the man almost able to place exactly what vehicle it was by sound alone. In fact, it was perhaps those very sounds combined with those individuals that called out to him with familiarity that caused the man to be entirely oblivious to the way in which several of those men tended to let their eyes linger upon the woman at his side. In fact, it wasn't until that hand reached out to grab the girl and she paused to deal with that wrist that Tetradore paused, a small frown pressed upon his lips. He eyed the fellow with narrowed eyes and yet, he was wholly willing to allow Malia to take care of the fellow himself. It wasn't until the man started backing away that the were-King moved to lead her further towards that starting line. Those softly spoken words prompted him to shake his head. "No, if they were, or if you were, they wouldn't dare to touch you." He stated in a rather matter-of-fact tone. His status as Alpha was well known about these parts, the man entirely inclined to demand respect even from those hooligans he so often tended to engage in such illicit activities with.
It was, however, the presence of those vehicles that drew his attention as Tetradore pointed them out to her, identifying each with veritable ease. Her insistence that the vehicle was hardly a spider in any sense caused another warm chuckle upon his lips. "You're right, it's not a spider." He agreed, and yet, that didn't stop him from inquiring which one they were willing to bet on winning that street race. He watched as she considered it, a small shrug upon her shoulders before announcing that, since spiders were venomous by nature, she was more inclined to go with that one. Tetradore nodded, pulling out his wallet to pluck several hundred dollar bills from it's depths, only to flag over the young woman in charge of that money. "Three hundred on the spyder." He commented, handing her those bills. That grin upon that young woman's features was wholly ignored, his gaze instead settled at the man at her side who wrote down his bet. In fact, it wasn't until he was utterly assured his bet was taken that he turned his gaze back towards Malia, far more relaxed now as those engines of those two cars began to rev to life.
His emerald eyes watched those vehicles, entirely unprepared for the way that Malia's frame near fell into him. He glanced down at the girl with a hint of surprise, his hands reaching up to lightly brush against her arms before she pulled away from him quickly, clearing her throat in the process. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched her turn her face away from him quite abruptly and yet, in that moment, Tetradore found himself entirely more aware of her. He folded his arms over his chest, his gaze shifted quite pointedly away from her. After all, he could not get himself involved with her of all women - she belonged to Frost and that man had already shown he was keen to extort any sort of relationship Tetradore had for his own advantage. A small frown marred his features as he considered it, only for his attention to shift at the sound of her voice. "A few miles, they go that direction. They have some camera men around the track - you can see them on those large tv's over there. They'll be back before you know if, assuming they don't crash. They're about to start, look." He nodded towards those vehicles as the drives got in, that attractive young woman moving towards the front of them as her voice began to count down. Their engines revved loudly and with the word of 'Go!', the girl's white bandana dropped and those vehicles shot off down that presently empty stretch of road.
aiden tetradore