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
Her explanation of prick earns her little more than a blank stare, the words she uses entirely foreign to him, beyond him, his mind unable to process them nor find a suitable reaction and as such his features remain blank, expressionless, continuing to stare until he is sure the woman is done talking before he sees fit to frown at her entirely. Content to let the matter go, mind evidently of the opinion that it is not worth his time to understand her babble. Women, he thinks, talk too much. He climbs easily into her car, pleased with having tossed her upon the earth where he is assured she belongs. This is his land, his space, his personal territory- the young deviant the dominant Were within this area and as such has seen fit to establish himself as such. The sudden explosion of speed from the woman sees a grin touch his features, his smirk lopsided, hands clapping together momentarily like that of a child. He has ridden in car only a handful of times, the speed a thrilling thing, mind so readily taken to enjoy it just as he is so easily fascinated by the controls, long, quick fingers pushing at each and every button and switch in the same way in which a toddler explores a toy. He is fascinated by touch, fingers seeming to linger upon each smooth surface. It is perhaps, in this manner he is given to learn, his fractured mind struggling to perceive the use of each button, fingers softly tracing each in turn before the wipers explode into life, eyes widening in surprise, quickly following the motion before Emma suddenly swerves. A yelp of sorts is forced from his lips, his unseatbealted form colliding with the window before he is very near sent through the windscreen entirely, chest crashing into the dashboard as he struggles desperately to grip onto something in an effort to save himself from being thrown a third time, unaware perhaps, that is Emma's own form of revenge, unable to understand it is through her own control that the car moves in this manner, dark eyes narrowed in displeased confusion as he moves to glare towards her. Her form and features however, give away nothing, the boy unable to read such neutral body language, mind unable to place blame upon her as he mutters irritably to himself, moving to lean back into his chair once more, chest surely bruised as he rubs at it all the same. "Stop that....you are bad...bad!" One hand reaches forward to smack at the dashboard, clearly determined to punish the car itself for it's clear disobedience in throwing him about, unable to understand how it is both Emma and the dog have not been thrown about as he has. For a moment those sinfully dark eyes slide back towards the girl with the fire-hued pendant, watching her from beneath lashings of wild ebony hair. "Your car is not....well trained." His words are matter-of-fact, assured, words seeming to hold a cooler edge before it is he asks if he himself can drive. He has been in barely a handful of cars, restricted to the back of police vehicles or animal control cages in most of them- yet never before has he been allowed to drive. For all his short-comings and animalistic desires he is still very much a male, some part of himself seeking to be just as any boy, his interest in cars seemingly inborn as it is for so many young men, his desire to drive them a near over powering urge. He fails to understand her words in this moment, still struggling to brace himself lest the car attempt to buck him off yet again, head tilting softly to the side as she speaks unable to understand the sarcasm of her phrase, meeting her gaze with yet another blank look before he simply nods. "Yes. I will....be very...nice if you...do." He grins now, allowing his features to soften, seeking to manipulate her once more as his gaze rest against her, fingers lifting so suddenly to brush against her neck so delicately tracing the smooth skin of her flesh along her collar bone and throat, relishing in the warmth he finds before his fingers reach to tease at a lock of hair that captures his attention, fingers caressing that single lock as his gaze rests upon it with clear interest seeing indeed if further heat can be coaxed from her, the animalistic boy so craving that heat once more as she suddenly halts the car. He pulls away from her then, hurriedly moving to climb out of the car, Emma seemingly forgotten in these moments as he rushes around to the other side of the car, very near shoving the girl aside before climbing into the drivers seat, fingers hurriedly gripping the wheel as Emma climbs into the other side- the girl having earned herself a near beaming grin, a truly beautiful look upon his features as he regards her once more. "I...like you...now." One hand reaches once more to seize the collar of her shirt, pulling her suddenly towards him, lips brushing softly against her cheek in a momentary...kiss of sorts, the boy evidently having decided he is content, perhaps, to allow her to touch him now, pushing her away just as suddenly as he blinks, head tilting in evident confusion, hands still upon the wheel before he looks to Emma once more. "How do I...make it...go?" That he cannot even start the cat is an indication of just how little driving experience he has, Emma surely regretting her decision now..... |