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

Just a Rainbow In The Dark


Posted on May 05, 2014 by Heidi
West


I don't know how I feel about this City. It'd been spur of the moment, my decision to move here from the vast wildernesses of Alaska to these concrete streets. Desperation might have had something to do with it, it all seems like a blur now. I'd felt isolated, persecuted by those that had witnessed the strange things that sometimes happened when I was around. Even in Alaska, it had drawn too much attention, and the roughneck people that lived there either pretended I didn't exist or were ready to grab their firearms at the first sign of trouble.

I'd heard rumors from a Wiccan friend of mine about this City. That preternatural Beings were more widely accepted, or at least that an Underground world of other-wordly peoples thrived here. I can see how easy it would be to maneuver under the radar. Humans were too absorbed, too desensitized by the daily throng of congested bodies and streets. The roar of the day-to-day life made it all too easy for someone like me to simply fade into the crowd. It was a nice feeling for once.... to simply disappear in a manner of speaking.


But it was nothing like home. Nothing close.


I missed the crisp mountain air, sweet with the scents of Pine and glacier ice and fireweed. I missed the wide open sky that stretched from horizon to horizon, often sharing a sun and moon and northern lights all in the same predawn or after-dusk hours. I missed the howling of wolves outside my cabin during the long dark hours of a winter night. I missed feeding the Caribou herds when the passed through on their yearly migrations, or throwing the scraps of leftover salmon to the Cougar that wandered the many acres of my homestead. Animals were perhaps my greatest passion next to my powers. Maybe even more-so. But my fondness for feral creatures had ultimately been the very thing to condemn me as something.... alien to those of my home-town.


It had been a dire situation of course. But that made no difference. I'd been walking the banks of the Kenai river, which cut through my 40 acres of land at the far north-east corner. Some of the local teens liked to come here to get high and drink or spend an afternoon fishing or camping. You know, the usual things kids do. Today there had been a couple of boys down on the shore, trying their luck at snagging a silver salmon. I hadn't been there for the fishing. Just for a little solitude, with me and my sketchbook and a set of pencils to capture the tranquil moment. But things had taken a turn for the worst when a scream rose over the drawl of rushing water, and I looked up to see a fully grown mother grizzly charging across the river towards the two boys. Their hip-waders weighed them down in the icy current and made their feet clumsy, but it wouldn't have mattered to the angered bear. She was upon the closest boy within seconds, pinning him in the shallows and shoving his face down beneath the current as his friend fled in terror. Dropping my sketch pad, I'd raced to the scene, thinking nothing of my own safety as I sloshed into the water up to my ankles. Already the she-bear had ripped into the boy's back, his claws shredding his shirt and her teeth peeling skin and muscle from his back. I threw up my hands and cried out to her.


"Great Ursula!" I called to her in the native tongue of my Celtic heritage. The magic tongue of my mothers and fore-mothers dating all the way back to the Alba Peoples of Olde. She reared back her massive head, her black beady eyes fixating on my lilac gaze, I'll never forget that look in her eyes. I'll never forget how hard my heart beat as I stared her down, the saliva dripped from her parted jaws. I could literally feel the rage coursing through her. The need to destroy this threat to her cubs. I could feel the power that coursed through her as strongly as if it had been my own. I had been terrified. But I held my ground. I forced myself to stay calm. And in my soft, soothsayer's voice I spoke to her, calling on all the energy I possessed. "Mother Bear...This boy is of no threat to you. You are of Inifinite Strength. Infinite Power. You rule here and he is of no consequence... There is no danger."


Her paws, each the size of dinner plates, slapped the water at my feet, a throaty grunt rumbling through her teeth and her hot breath billowing the hair about my face with it's pungent odor. Still I did not move, though my whole body trembled.


"There is no danger here...." I repeated in a lulling note. The grizzle broke eye contact, her gaze drifting to the limp body floating face-down in the water. I feared the worst, knowing if he hadn't died of his injuries or fright he'd certainly drown. "Here, Mama! Look here at me..." I called again, regaining the bear's attention as I took a step back, beckoning her away with my hands. Slowly, the bear lumbered forward, and for every step she took, I took two or three to match her. Slowly, she was drawn away from the boy, and I circled wide, wading back towards the opposing shore.


"That's it..." I crooned softly. I could feel it the moment the bear's anger was forgotten. The moment the boy was forgotten. Now it was only she and I, and I was not a threat. I was not food. She came to me, snuffling my outreached palms, her muzzle covered in blood and gore which she smeared across the smock of a dress I'd worn that day. I patted her head, whispering soft reassuring words.


from across the river, the other boy reappeared, seizing his friend by the shoulders and dragging him to shore before fumbling for his cell phone to call 911. The panic in his eyes said it all. The look he shot me from across the river had labeled me a monster. As if I'd set the bear upon them myself. The bear had ambled back to the forest, back to her cubs and her den, but when I went to help the boy he only screamed at me to stay back, calling me all manner of curses from freak to she-devil.


From there, everything became a nose-diving spiral. The local news even wrote an article about it. The Bear-Witch, they'd called me. People began avoiding me in town, my home was vandalized and my gardens were burned. The boy's parents even sought to take me to court, citing that the attack had been intentional. Their son was severely crippled and had suffered major brain damage and for his parents, I was to blame. There was nothing I could do to salvage my reputation.


So now here I am, condemned to this concrete prison to escape the persecution that I faced back home. Oh, how my bare feet longed to feel soft nutrient rich soil between their toes. Here it was all gritty concrete and half-baked pavement.


Sometimes at night, I went to the roof of the flat I was renting, and I would sit beneath the glorious pearl of the moon and dangle my feet over the edge so that I could feel the soft breeze tickle my toes. Tonight I was doing just that, silouetted against the orange-gold glow of the city lights as I perched on the corner of my building. Next door, the local club was in full swing, the thumping tempo of synthetic drums and hip-hop lyrics sizzling through the night air. Below people chatted and laughed as they waited in line to get in. But I had no desire for the street music or dancing. Even the instruments here in the city lacked integrity. It was all digital now. I sighed softly as my hands braced against the ledge and I swung my feet back and forth like a sullen little girl. Bright alabaster locks flirted with the breeze, and my gaze was soft and dream-like as I tried to imagine myself back home in my garden, listening to Fleetwood Mac as I pulled weeds.


Suddenly there was a clatter of iron and my head snapped to one side as I looked across to the next rooftop over. The door swung wide and I fell stone-still as a massive tawny panther stepped out of the shadows and stretched his elegant body out into the night air. Amethyst eyes widened, glittering like too jewels as I stared unbelieving at what I saw. What on Earth was such a magnificent creature doing here?


And then, with a crackle of bone and the squish of internal organs rearranging, there suddenly was no cat before me.... but a man.


A Naked Man.


A Were My mind whispered. I'd known they were said to walk these streets, but I'd yet to knowingly encounter one myself... let alone see them transform. Well, that explained why a panther would be meandering through a night club. But this fellow didn't seem to care much for the music and dancing either.


He stepped over to the edge of the building, wrapped entirely in masculine pride and confidence as he peered over the edge and then sat down, much in the same manner that I do.


"Wishing you were someplace far away from all this too...?"

I found myself speaking the words before even thinking them through. I probably ought not even let the creature know I was here, if he hadn't already noticed me. But it was already too late, the soft wistful lilt of my voice already having sprung forth from my lush lip-glossed lips in the same manner with which I spoke to all wild animals.



I'm A Satellite Heart

Lost In The Dark...


But I'll Be Truly Yours

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