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
He felt like he was going out of his mind. He didn't know how many days it had been, hell, how many weeks. It could have been minutes or months and none of it meant a damn thing anymore cause she was still gone. He'd tortured countless witches and warlocks in the days past Isolt's kidnapping, anything to find out where they were keeping her. Either it was too top secret and they were all in fear of their lives or they weren't in the inner circle, not trusted enough to know. Either way, he was well past pissed. He hadn't fed, hadn't slept. He couldn't think straight. When he wasn't driving around looking for another witch or warlock to kidnap and torture, he was searching all the empty warehouses and abandoned buildings in Sacrosanct. He was beginning to think they'd taken her out of the city. What if they'd gone so far to take her out of the state? He wouldn't stop searching until she was found, even if he had to kill all the witches and warlocks in the world. He wouldn't stop until he found her. He was immortal and he would spend that entire eternity looking for her. Nothing could distract him. The hunger was eating at him and he knew he would start mummifying soon but he didn't care. His fingers ached as he tightened his grip on the leather steering wheel. The car was in deep need of a wash and that was usually something he never let go but nothing was off limits anymore. Everything else in his life was on hold until he found her. He didn't talk to any members of the coven. He only kept the tavern going because he knew she'd have his balls if she got back and found out he'd closed the doors like he wanted to. So instead he kept the auto payments going to the staff and hired a book keeper to keep the money in order. He promoted one of the longer standing staff members to management just so she could oversee things since he refused to come in. He had a job to do. He could tell the staff was worried. He could see it on their faces every time he did drop by. No one dared to ask about Isolt but he could see the silent questions in all of their pitiful eyes. Something on his face must have kept them from asking. He ran the roads and busted down doors, searching all corners of everywhere he could. He drove by Chizue's house on a regular basis, just to make sure if she had made it home yet. He was sure she was kidnapped too. He worried for his friend and coven member. She was too innocent to be dragged into this, too pure of heart. He knew why they needed Isolt but he didn't know why they took her. It had to be wrong place, wrong time. He only hoped they didn't title her expendable and stake her. That would really piss him off. He'd make sure the entire coven went up in flames if that happened. He might do that anyway just for kidnapping them. He had fire in his eyes as he drove by Chizue's house for his regular check in. He glanced out the window, not expecting to see anything new. When he did see the figure slumped on the porch, his whole system went into meltdown mode. He slammed the brakes in the middle of the road. The honking started immediately behind him but he didn't care. He pulled in to the side of the road and jumped out the car, not even registering the cars still honking as they went past and the people cursing at him and flipping him off. He only had eyes for the shrunken silhouette of Chizue laid across the porch. He ran to her, gently reaching out to lift her shoulders. He stroked her hair, pulling it out of her face as he searched her features. He could see the dried blood on her and it pissed him off to no end but right now only concern shined in his eyes, concern and hunger for knowledge. "Yumi, honey, it's me, Damon. I'm going to take you inside, okay?" He wanted to pound her with questions about Isolt but something in him told him that wouldn't be okay. He needed to get her inside off the street first and get her cleaned up. She deserved that and more. She looked like hell. Her wrists and ankles looked like they'd been bound and her skin was littered with healing scars from abuse. More fire gathered in his eyes the more he looked her over. If she didn't fight him, he would gently scoop her up in his arms and carry her into the house. He brought her upstairs and put her on the bed, going into the bathroom to start warm water running. He put some bubbles in it and made sure she had everything she would need before he walked back out to her. "I've got a bath going. I'm sure you want to get cleaned up. Take as long as you like, okay? I'll be right here if you need me." He offered his softest smile. She looked so fragile right now, so breakable. He was burning to know about Isolt but at the same time, he wanted to take care of Chizue. She was one of the best people he knew. In fact, she probably was THE best. She deserved a hell of a lot better than this. He would make sure they paid. |