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

I can chase away those demons.;


Posted on October 12, 2017 by Brennan O'Connell
West
all that is gold does not glitter
not all who wander are lost


"That wanker doesn't deserve peace." The irishman scoffed his adamant detesting of the man that practically stole his life away. Brennan was entirely decided that he deserved to get even. There was an indifference to the raven haired woman that stood before him. Was she not pissed off of what they could have been? Or perhaps time had simply just took its toll. The fact that she didn't want to make her apprentice suffer made the Irishman give her a good long look brooding dark stare that accompanied that hard narrowed eyed stare. "The sooner he screws off into that light or whatever it is, the better." He muttered his impatience. He realised how he wasn't quite ready to face these facts that stared at him in the eye. He was empty handed, lost everything and the realisation of this left a bitter taste in his mouth. He was a boat with no water, a pirate with no treasure.

Brennan was a lot of things, including possessing a nasty habit of desiring his revenge and he was robbed of it. That habit of his often left him blinded in that toxic ruthless desire, it wasn't his finest of moments. But she knew this about him, knew he was far from perfect. He was never going to be the hero of her story but he would sure of hell fight for her. He was surprised at how unbothered she was by her mentor's fate. Did she not want him to suffer as well? The bastard didn't deserve that kind of pity, even if he was demeaned to nothing more than an annoying fly with no bite. If there was a way to make the dead suffer he would find a way, but he had larger problems to face at this point in time. Even if he refused to acknowledge the deep vat of trouble that was threatening to drown him it was still the giant dancing elephant in the room.

Brennan would find a way to get his payback somehow, but not today. Today he had to face Serafina. That somehow felt harder than facing a demon and the foolish mentor that decide to make an enemy out of him. Somehow, facing Sera seemed significantly more daunting than living in that hell dimension. Yes he stood practically naked before her, but he felt truly exposed at the thought of facing her now.

For once, the warlock is uncertain of himself. Not that he would allow it show through the cracks he had formed. No, not in front of her.

The Irishman could practically feel her stare as he stripped those cold, wet clothes from his body. There was no denying their undeniable attraction for one another, chemistry wasn't something that was easy to dissipate and they had it in plenty. But was it too much too soon? Hell if he knew or cared, he would try anyways. Time was not something he dared to waste. Serafina was not an easy conquest. If he wanted her back he would need to work for it, of course the man had no qualms with doing such a thing when what he sought was worth it. Sera was a treasure, his treasure. Or so he thought. He ran a hand through this damp mahogany mess for hair before he made his move.

He followed her after a moments time, giving her a moment alone before he followed her where he probably shouldn't have. He was a man unafraid to go after what he want. The house felt familiar to him still and not much had changed. It never occurred to him, not once that she had moved on. Moved on with someone that was an actual threat to him, an actual person she wouldn't just cast aside. She was a beautiful woman, strong, striking and hard to get. Exactly his type. It was really no surprise that there would be suitors in his absence, but the egotistical part of him refused to believe that she moved on with someone serious. It was amazing how even after all he had been through he still managed to maintain that impressively large ego of his. He was sure of himself, he knew what he wanted and he wasn't afraid to go after it. Serafina was exactly what he wanted. So the man bravely approaches her, his words laced with sensual innuendo.

Yet she barely even flinched, barely even noticed him as if he were nothing but a ghost. Even like this, she barely even paid him notice. He might as well have been like those ghosts that followed her around. The most he received was an empty look from her stormy eyes when she turned to look at him.

Serafina was broken, she had to be. Or maybe there was something wrong with him? Maybe he had lost his touch. She had never been able to resist his wily endearing charm before. She had forgiven him, he knew he had melted that coldness that she had formed so convincingly around her. Yet she still rejected him. Yet despite this, he smirked easily at her with his roguish charm, his expression remaining playful. He did enjoy how she played hard to get, and yet he couldn't help but think she was simply not interested in him anymore. His quirk of his lips faltered at the thought as it steeps within his mind. "Not exactly what I had in mind." He admitted unabashedly, his words blatant in suggestion.

Just as about he was about to protest, reaching out to touch her with those cool callused hands, she sidestepped him, quickly darting toward the bedroom exit. What a slippery little minx. His shoulders slumped slightly as a frown etched upon his worn features temporarily. It felt like no time had passed between them and yet maybe it was more than enough to allow time eroded and change things. Was it truly a foolish notion to think they could survive time and dimensions?

Silly Brennan, how much of a hopeless romantic he was at his core and yet so very clueless. Perhaps he was just hopeless, yes, he would just have to settle for that.

Her voice gently pulled him out of his mind, he raised his head trying to hide that conflict that waged within him. Tea or coffee? That was not the beverage we wanted at this very moment. He didn't care for coffee or tea after Serafina just stripped in front of him. A nearly frustrated sigh escapes him, if this is how she wanted to play it, he would play along for now. But he didn't have to make it easy. Brennan was not all that good at taking no for an answer, not when he knew there was so much left unspoken. So much time they needed to catch up on. Talking was the last thing he wanted to do right at this very moment. "Irish coffee.. Stronger the better. I think I am going to need it." Hell, he needed it if he were going to survive what Sera wanted from him, after his rejection still weighing down in a mocking kind of way. His ego was wounded, not that he would ever admit or show it.

This was not at all how he imagined their reunion. He moved to follow her out of her bedroom back downstairs, almost reluctantly dragging his feet along the soft plushy carpet.

Brennan O'Connell


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