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
This had so not ended up exactly how she had wanted or foresaw it. Usually, people caught on quite quickly to whatever hustle she was trying to pull - that is, usually they fell for it. He skirted her antics altogether like he was above the supernatural or something. No one was above the supernatural. She knew that. She'd seen it first hand. How did he not know this? How did he not care? A soft sigh left her lips as her stormy gaze shifted towards the man beside her, her eyes rolled as her hand reached up to run through her long, dark hair, unsettling those locks only for them to fall around her in place all over again. Well, at least some sort of good came with this. Sort of. She did have his business card in her pocket and maybe she could convince him to carry that heavy crate too. She didn't want to break another nail getting the damn thing out and back to her shop. She was unaware, at that moment, to the studious look the assassin gave their environment, the girl hardly the kind that provoked surprise attacks. She was more the behind-the-scenes sort of girl, the ones that produced the potions and spells his kind might use. Little got traced back to her.
It was the sound of his voice that drew Serafina's thoughts away from her future attempts to convince him to carry that box for her. Her fair features turned towards him, her eyebrow arched upwards.
She was, admittedly, kind of thankful for the face of that warehouse that came into view. Her own storage unit was hardly any different than many of the others that surrounded it. She easily skipped up those steps that led the way to her warehouse, her keys dangled in her hands, clicking against one another as she found the correct one. She placed her key in the lock, pushing the door open only to reach in and flick the light on. Those fluorescent lights above slowly flickered to life, that soft, low buzzing sound reverberating in the background as Serafina led the way through those shelves only to pause. She pointed towards a wooden crate on the floor.
serafina dubois