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
I bet on me and my own heartbeat Silver blood pumps through her body as her heart races. The silver blood that she doesn't know about, the silver blood that would keep the vampire from sinking his fangs into her neck (well the silver blood was perhaps just one of the things that kept him from doing so.) The silver blood that deemed her a witch. Magic powers and all. The moment his own eyes of blue look into hers of the same frosted color, the wind begins to die down and settle, before eventually disappearing all together. As much as Damon frustrated, and as much as she showed outright annoyance and hatred towards him, it seemed he was the one person who currently was able to calm her. Or perhaps, distract her. When she flashed irritation towards the vampire, her thoughts became so consumed with how he was deflecting her questions and how she kind of wanted to punch him in the face that she forgets her fear and uncertainty. His boredom at her desperation to find out what exactly she didn't know here in this situation, made the back of her neck prickle in irritation. But in the end, this irritation, annoyance, and frustration is what keeps the little blue-eyed witch from causing a mini hurricane inside the interrogation room. "Your fiancé?" She questions, wondering who would choose to marry someone like this guy. But these thoughts are forgotten as Damon mentions how the chained up guy plans on kidnapping her and experimenting on her. Like she was some kind of lab rat or something. Kathryn narrows those frosted blue eyes as she turns her gaze to the man. "That's sick," she says, emphasizing the word 'sick,' as just the thought of a real human being experimented on makes her stomach turn in knots. Damon suddenly leans in closer, turning on the charm once more, but Kathryn barely notices it as a whirlwind of furry wraps itself around her insides, twisting and twirling, enough to give her whiplash. But despite the thoughts make their way inside her mind, the little witch does manage to catch Damon's words. And this makes her turn towards him, and he digested face lights up just a little bit, hint of a crooked smile touch her cheek like the stroke of a paintbrush as his own lips quirk. "That sounds good to me," she says with a shrug of her shoulders. She looks Damon up and down for a moment before parting her lips once more. "You can be the good cop," she says and she turns that pretty, little head of hers with those iced over blue eyes away from Damon and to the man before the vampire can say anything in rebuttal. Kathryn stares the guy dead in the eyes, all her fear gone, there is no hesitation. Kathryn's compassion is her weakness, but she feels the need to save Damon's fiance's life, not this man's (though killing him is far from anything on her agenda.) She pushes those tiny hands against the stranger's shoulders. "Why would you kidnap someone, huh? Are you just some sick psychopath or something? You twisted bastard!" She yells at him. Another insult of some sort is at the tip of her tongue when she gets a strange feeling inside her. It was familiar, but distant almost, and empowering. Kathryn felt powerful, strong, like no one would be able to take her down. It was more than confidence, but it was arrogance. She felt certain about what she was about to do next, even if she wasn't quite sure what she was doing, or if what she was about to do was even possible. The little witch watches his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, his lungs expanding and contracting, the air entering and leaving. How essential it was for him to breathe, how much he needed the air around him, to go both in and out And then she thinks about what would happen if it stopped. If the air ceased to move in or out. And then she makes it happen. Kathryn stops the air around the mane, centered on his lungs, he was no longer able to breathe air in, or push the air back out, she halted in. She watches as panic fills in his eyes, like water would fill up a glass, she watches as he struggles to breathe, she watches as he realizes he may die. And just like how she had thought about the air stopping, she lets it move again, as she sees him taking in heaps of air as if he had never had air before. Kathryn moves her face close to his and parts lip once more, a sneer riding her face. "Now, how about you answer my partner's questions, if you want to keep breathing that is." |