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

Don't fret precious, I'm here


Posted on July 06, 2014 by Davante Dorian
West

I was usually good at reserving judgement. Outwardly, I'm sure I seem as judgmental as they come, rife with rude comments about race, gender, style, and any other form of judgment one could emit. But in all reality? Judgment was something of the ignorant, and something I saved for when I had concrete, absolute answers that I could tear apart to my own delight on my own time. I had misjudged the woman who had embodied the wolf who had been atop my desk, teeth bared, and survival mode all but blatant. I had expected the woman beneath the fur to be stark, for her to be an amalgam of the irritation I had expected to feel when I met her. And then I remember that beneath all of us, our souls and hearts are made of the same matter and energy. Her reluctance to see the humor behind our original meeting was dangerously close to lighting the short fuse I had inherited, but her words were spoken with a spine that I had previously dismissed. I was wrong about her. It didn't happen often, but when it did, the apology tasted like stale smoke.

Stale, bitter, and like lots of ash. No wonder I didn't do it often.

" Let them sleep while they can?" I spoke flatly. " Unfortuately the dead don't always stay buried, but I do seriously appreciate your part in that."

The armory was impressive, I had to relinquish that much. Despite my already foul Monday-induced mood, seeing replications of weapons I had attempted myself, or only seen in books, fed a curiousity to browse that I wasn't often inspired by. I felt like half-little boy in a toy store, about to start bouncing on the balls of my feet to see the rest of the place, and half little boy who was in time out, set aside from the group playing the fun game. I wanted to crane my neck to get a good look at the store, but instead, I sighed and drummed my fingers on the front desk once.

"Davante Dorian, by the way," I introduced myself distractedly, noting a fantastically shaped collection of knives all too close by. " Why did you come to my store when clearly you have a vast array of weapons here? Whoever owns the place clearly has the money or the connections to get you whatever you would have liked."

















davante
Aiming to misbehave.




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