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
The past few weeks, days, months, all he could think, all he could breathe was Isolt. The idea of seeing her again, feeling her, holding her in his arms again. It ate at him, consuming him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, even the last time he'd slept. He stayed out of the sunlight but he paced and researched online, anything to get one step closer to finding her. She was his obsession, his reason for being and he wouldn't lose her. He was sure they had tortured her. They may want her alive but that didn't mean she had to be untouched. Even the thought of one bruise on her porcelain skin enraged him. He'd already seen the havoc they'd wrecked on Yumi and that was more than enough to call for their blood. She didn't deserve that, neither of them did. He roared through the cavern halls like a man possessed. No one was innocent. No one was shown mercy. He felt fire lick at his legs before he absorbed the energy right out of it and threw it right back at the Pyro warlock, his screams echoing as he was slammed into the other wall. Damon walked up to where he slumped against the wall and aimed a swift kick at the side of his head. The satisfying crack of his neck sent Damon on through the hall until three more rounded a corner. One threw a stake at him that bounced right off like he was built of metal. He smirked. The other man went for knives, sending one at his leg. He barely felt it as it dug into his thigh. He was too busy grabbing the man by the throat and squeezing. He stared right into the man's eyes as he crushed his windpipe and then threw the man as he gasped for air. The other two got into position, one trying to use his powers to pick Damon up and slam him against the wall but it didn't work on him. Instead the man growled in frustration and threw a chair at him. Damon used his arm to deflect, letting the chair crash apart and leave splinters in his arm even as the other man came up and aimed his knife at Damon's throat. Damon caught the man's wrist with a snarl, cracking his wrist. The man screamed and hit his knees, dropping the knife as Damon grabbed the knife still embedded in his thigh and pulled it out just to slam it into the man's eye socket. The man went down with a groan as the third man screamed his anger, his fingers curling as the ground started to shake. Damon went to step toward him but the ground started to break apart as tremors rocked the cave walls. A chasm opened up between them but while the man laughed in victory, Damon jumped to the other side easily and grabbed the man, throwing him head first into the chasm. He screamed until you couldn't hear him anymore. He could hear more coming but he didn't care. He just stood his ground, blood running down his thigh and his eyes pure and unadulterated rage. Let them come. He wanted all of them to feel his pain. Ten more unlucky witches and warlocks later, The floor around him was coated in sticky clotting blood. It squelched as he stepped forward. Blood ran down his mouth and neck where he'd bit into a few necks, not even to drink from them, more to charge up and have them feel his fury. He had burns on the right side of his body and the ones on his legs from a few pyro's and his clothes were soaked where a water elemental had tried to pull water from the cave walls to drown him. He knew he was starting to run on empty but he was nowhere near done. He knew the coven was one of the largest in history and even if he took out all the ones here, there'd be more coming. Always more. And still he wouldn't stop. Not for anything. Not until two figures stepped around the corner and he set eyes on her. Even with her face mutilated and a bloody mess, he would know her anywhere. She was...he didn't even have words for what he saw but even as she fell to her knees, he was suddenly there holding her. He cradled her gently to his chest, brushing a few strands of dirty matted hair from her face as he kissed her all over. Blood, scar tissue, he didn't care. He kissed every inch of it, blood tears running down his own face to mix with hers. He glanced up at the sound of someone clearing their throat, a snarl dripped from his lips as he fixed his gaze on the warlock beside her. The man took a step back, his hands going up. "Whoa, man. I was helping her escape, I promise. I'll stall the others if you want to get her out of here." Damon glared at the man, skepticism written all over his face. He was only stymied from killing him because he finally held his life's purpose in his arms again. She soothed him in places he didn't even know needed it. He wasn't about to stick around long enough to interrogate the man though. He had Isolt again. That's all that mattered. He slowly lifted her up, his arm hooking nimbly behind her knees to pull her all the way against his bloodied chest as he snarled once more at the man. He backed up to the wall obediantly, his hands still up, watching Damon warily. Damon started slowly back toward the exit, his eyes never leaving her bloody face as he whispered sweet words of encouragement. Yet he hadn't forgotten about the warlock and he decided one thing instantly. If the warlock was indeed the reason for getting Isolt this far to the exit, he owed him something. So he wouldn't kill him. But for his own sake, he did need it to look like he didn't cooperate, he just survived. Even as he walked away, Damon flicked a finger almost methodically against the back of Isolt's head. To her, it would just feel like he was stroking her hair but the man gasped as slashes appeared all over his legs and torso. Damon cradled the back of her head, massaging and a large wound send the man reeling into the wall behind him as marks appeared on the side of his neck, puncture holes like a bite. He groaned as he started to lose blood. Damon cracked his neck as if on reflex and another cracking noise resounded as the man slumped to the floor with a broken femur. Damon knew the coven would heal him if they thought he was still with them, but it had to look like he should have been dead. As a last thought, he squeezed Isolt's hand gently on the back of his neck and there was another grunt as the man's ribs fractured. Now he would look like he put up one hell of a fight. "You're welcome." He growled through clenched teeth as he walked Isolt out of the caves and gently placed her in the passenger seat of the car. "Hold on, baby. I'm getting you home." He kissed her gently on her forehead before getting into the driver's seat. Now it was time to let the healing begin. Not that he was anywhere close to being done with the New Eden coven. |