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

mukashi mukashi


Posted on February 14, 2018 by yumi chizue
West


The shrill sound of those car horns felt as if they were thousand of miles away from the young girl as she laid on the solid safety of what had once been the porch of Isolt and her own town home. She found herself entirely incapable of mustering the strength to move that small distance towards the door and into that perceived sanctuary. Those usually acute vampiric senses were entirely dulled tonight, the lack of life within her veins and that recent torment had taken its toll upon her. She hardly heard those footsteps on the sidewalk up to that home, those sobs still wracking her frame as he climbed those stairs. In fact, it wasn't until that genteel touch upon her porcelain flesh that Chizue was even aware of his presence. Her body flinched as his fingers graced her flesh, the young woman so used to that sensation of someone else's hands bringing her pain that she reacted from mere instincts rather than truly bothering to see who it actually was. All she could think of in that horrible moment was that they had found her after all. All of it had been for nothing. Her escape was futile.

She hardly fought him as he picked up her battered frame from the floor, the girl's mere will to live was all but shattered. In fact, it wasn't until he brushed those long dark locks from her face that she truly recognized him, those dark chocolate eyes stared up at him near wordlessly, as if she hadn't expected to see him, only to contort into a look of utter despair. She had left Isolt behind. She had been given a chance of escape and hadn't even bothered to see of she could too rescue her friend and now - she was left to stare into the eyes of that man whom so clearly loved the redhead empty handed. She hardly deserved that kindness he gave her, of that she was certain. Those tears only increased as he plucked her from the ground, the woman hardly was in a position to fight him, not that she had the strength to do so in the first place. Quite on the contrary, she rested near lifelessly against the hard plains of his chest, her head leaned against his frame as he so delicately carried her into that home. This wasn't how it should be. She knew that. It was supposed to be Isolt here in his arms. Isolt. Not her.

The soft embrace of those sheets against her frame were so extremely welcomed, that bed so simply made her feel at home. It was tempting to simply lay there against the bed, even though she could hear Damon moving throughout her home. She knew she had to fix this. She had to do what she could. Slowly, the young woman rose on shaky legs. Chizue made her way towards her desk, digging through it only to began scribbling upon a folded piece of paper. Her handwriting was hardly as smooth and flawless as it usually was, those English letters were somehow more difficult to the Japanese girl. It was only once she had some vague instructions on that paper that she turned, clutching that folded paper to her chest. Those brown eyes shifted as he stepped into the bedroom, her gaze near purposefully avoided his as he informed her of that bath ready for her. It took her a moment to react to those words he presented her with, only for the woman to wordlessly offer him that single piece of paper. It had a street corner written upon it, along with some vague drawing of a tunnel of sorts. It was the best she could offer of what she could remember of that route she'd taken and those streets she had passed. Maybe....maybe he could do the rest. Maybe he could save her. And maybe, one day, they would both forgive her.

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