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

my father took me into the city, to see a marching band


Posted on March 02, 2018 by Matteo Devereux
West
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The steel silver of his gaze lingered upon the tall, unkempt man who reached down for that rug to clutch against his chest, his new 'toy' tucked beneath his arm in the same moment to drag them both excitedly out of that room and into his own to enjoy for the evening. His gift, it seemed, was well received by Aiden's ward of sorts- though Matteo had known it would be. It would, in the least, keep the boy occupied long enough to afford him that time he desired with his companion. He was hardly opposed to Tobias in any sense, indeed the Frenchman found himself willing to concede the boy was good for Aiden. Tobias never judged but any of these decisions his Alpha made, his faith and loyalty were infallible, his friendship unquestionable and, though Aiden would surely deny it vehemently, Tobias gave him purpose on some level. Something to care for. Someone to attach emotion too beyond Matteo himself. A concept he knew to be difficult in some sense for the man- if only for all the years he had suffered watching anyone he might dare to offer the faintest tendril of care for ripped away, killed or cast out. Such things would teach a boy quickly not to attach to anyone or anything. A near sickening form of emotional manipulation and one Matteo had been content to counteract with his own presence all those years. It had certainly not come quickly, nor easily, nor without resistance on a juvenile Aiden's part and yet- his earliest memories of the boy remembered him as little more than an angry, sad, distressed child. He had trusted nothing and no one. That armour of anger concealing little more than fear within it. Yet slowly, they had built that trust between them. Slowly he had even been allowed to hug the boy. He had lost count of the amount of times afterwards that Aiden had fallen asleep on his lap or his chest as a young child in search of some measure of safety. Matteo the one secret Risque had never found- and that, he knew, meant a very great deal to the boy, now a man, who stood before him.

That rare grin he was afforded in the wake of that gentle hug and clasp of the man's hand only worked to further that simper upon his own lips. Matteo genuinely pleased to be in Aiden's company once more. It had been to long. Longer than it should have been. A blame he was content to place upon himself and yet- in the wake of Risque's absence he had been determined to allow Aiden that chance to build some semblance off a life for himself. A task that, it seemed, the Were had taken up with at least some measure of success if this boat was anything to go by. An unusual choice of habitat, he supposed and yet if it afforded its purpose it would surely do. God knew he had slept in worse places himself. That Aiden might have something to call his own was by far more significant than any aesthetics. His attention lingered briefly then upon that injured arm, slight though it was and not at all outside the reach of Aiden's affinity to heal. Yet, some habits surely die hard. Matteo allowing his finger to run along the surface of that caramel skin. Resorting its integrity with each touch until that wound was sealed over without mark or scar. Those accented lyrics that found his lips holding a note of tease all the same, Aiden's own words reflecting back that good nature even despite those wounds they discussed. Matteo chuckling softly in response to the idea he might yet find Aiden uninjured one day. Such a day it would be! The Frenchman shifting then to announce the presence of that gift.

In all the beings he had known in all the years he had lived Aiden was but one of the few whom never questioned where he went or why. It had never mattered to Aiden when he would return, so long as he promised that he would. A promise the French Fae had been fulfilling for more than twenty years. A longer absence however, surely required some gift of sorts. It always had. Though this had been the longest period of time to ever pass between their meetings. One Matteo intended not to repeat. That cardboard box was handed to the other man then, that lid lifted to reveal that multitude of chocolate and candy within, each piece sourced from somewhere within Europe or the world at large. That favoured Batna placed near the top. His memory for Aiden's preference hardly having failed over the years before that teleportation seized him. Matteo reappring upon that comfortable sofa, his feet resting upon the edge of the coffee table as one limb folded over the other in a clear relaxation. The Frenchman suggesting concealing that very box least Tobias desire to pilfer it. Tetradore evidently of the belief it would meet its demise all the same as he delved into that chosen treat.

"Put it on the shelf in the shower. His fear of the water might prolong the box's integrity if nothing else."

He offered simply, amusement finding those accented lyrics all the same before he inquired after that drink he knew Aiden would have. He had been nothing but sober these past few days. A state of being he saw little desire to continue to linger within when there were no pressing matters of state or personal crisis that demanded his attention. That bottle plucked from the cabinet readily held his attention as Aiden set it upon the table with those glasses and the knowledge he had been saving it. That printed name upon the bottle not unnoticed. His lip lifting in amusement at that title. Matteo lifting the bottle then to eye that label.

"That was your favourite movie as a child. I still have the video tape of it you wrote your name on. It's in my office in France."

Even he hardly knew why he had kept it all these years. Aiden had long since outgrown cartoons, surely and yet that tape rested upon that shelf dedicated to Aiden alone in that room of memories and mementos he had kept all these years. That shelf holding a selection of those toys or books or games the boy had favoured and Matteo had kept safe for him all this time- hidden away from Risque. In all those years Aiden had needed him as parent, confidante and finally friend he had, perhaps, needed the boy just as much. His biological son had been metaphorically out of reach. Dorian hardly knowing who he was. Aiden affording him that chance to be the parent he had desired to be. That, he knew, was the very reason he kept those things still. Such memories for now were pushed easily aside as he poured those drinks and Aiden collapsed into that chair beside him. Matteo handing him that glass before taking up his own.

"To the trail we blaze."

He offered simply, that chuckle resonating once more as he tapped that glass to the Panther's own before bringing it to his own lips. That alcohol as tantalizingly good as Aiden had suggested it might be. The satisfaction clear upon his face. Aiden querying after that story then in the near age-old tradition they had begun. Those tales of adventure he had entertained the boy with as a child slowly adapting over those years to meet his age and interests. A part of the ancient Fae rather pleased his companion still desired to hear them.

"Ah, Mon Amie, I have several- but which to tell, hmm? I was in Puerto Rico these past few months. France has interests in several offshore mines and the government sent me to negotiate terms with their minister for agriculture and mining. He is a terribly dull man. Aged, balding and with a habit of clearing his throat so constantly its irritable. Anyway, while I was waiting in the embassy it hardly escaped my notice that several rather pleasing young women were moving about outside. Naturally it occured to me that I should speak to one of them, you know, in case they were in distress of some sorts, naturally- and required my assistance. As it turns out the Miss Puerto Rico pageant was being held down the street. Swimsuit of course."

He paused then, meeting Aiden's gaze as one eye lifted upward. Matteo knowing well he hardly had to explain just why swimsuit was by far the most preferable of the attires. The Frenchman taking another sip of that drink then, eyeing that glass a moment.

"This is good, where did you get it? Either way- I reschedule my meeting for the day and headed down the street and toward the beach. Puerto Rico is not quite like anything you've seen before. It's culture is based upon sun and sand and music and fast cars. The street racing seen is big there. You would do well. That beach was filled with all of it. I acquainted myself with several of the models including the young woman whom went on to be crowned Miss Puerto Rico later that afternoon. Later that evening I acquainted myself with her several times over. I learned the next day that she was quite the budding photographer. My ass became the most famous in Puerto Rico and my country was inspired to do the sort of damage control they haven't been forced to do since the Fillon Affair. It was all rather exciting. Needless to say I have not been back to Puerto Rico for a few months."

That grin found his lips once more, that tale light-hearted, easy, the very sort he was sure would prompt a smile from Aiden in turn as the Frenchman continued to nurse that drink. The man seeming to consider his words more thoughtfully then if only because he was not quite assured of where to begin them. There was little Aiden did not know of him and his life. For all the secrets he had kept for the Werecat, Aiden had surely been equally as privy to his own and yet it made such conversation all the easier.

"My son, Dorian, I have told you off him, is getting married this year- to another man. A vampire. I actually quite like my future son-in-law if I am to be honest. Yet my relationship with Dorian still remains a little....strained. I swear to God even Alexander is better with him then I am and Alexander is not what anyone would define as sociable I assure you- unless he's convincing men to fight for him or sitting on a war council. What of you though? You have come into quite the establishment since I last visited."

One hand gestured easily at that boat then, Matteo readily pouring himself another glass of that terribly fine drink.


m a t t e o
it's tough to be a god


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