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
years I've walked in the coldest winds
from sorrow and pain I find my strength
the more I hurt, the clearer I see.
It was curious to the Were-King, that any individual soul would go through the effort day after day to ensure there was a basket of muffins on his nightstand to wake up to. It made him question exactly why she desired to do something for him, particularly when the pair were not terribly close to begin with. It seemed the sort of task Raven might have done and likewise, he had assumed it had been her. That insistent line of questioning, however, seemed to prompt an internal glimpse of indecision within her, as if Calliel was unsure if she wished to voice the truth behind her reasoning. That final shrug he was given caused his eyebrow to raise before her brown eyes turned ever intently to meet the emerald hue of his own irises. Her voice was particularly candid, though he had come to expect as much from the woman. What he didn't anticipate, however, was her assurances that he seemed sad. For a moment, those emerald eyes simply stared at her blankly, as if he didn't quite comprehend that answer he was given. It wasn't till several moments later that a snort left his nose, the very sound followed by a subdued chuckle. She brought him muffins because she thought he was sad? If that wasn't the richest thing he'd ever heard!
His suggestion that she had been easier then he had anticipated to get into his bed seemed to prompt a warm simper upon her features. The very melancholy that had moment's ago afflicted her replaced with an almost sly look to her youthful features, the very kind that prompted his eyebrow to rise almost wearily. He watched her as her hand lifted to entangle in his locks, her eyes staring up at him as she so offered him a challenging word, only to withdraw ever so suddenly. For a moment, Tetradore watched her, merely considering those options before him. It would, after all, be easy to take advantage of that position she had placed herself in. It would be easy to return that flirtatious advance and yet....she was so...young. She was so naive. And, most importantly, she was Frost's Vector. The last thing he needed, on top of getting involved with anyone, was to get involved in someone of Frost's, even despite the tentative peace and equally as uncertain friendship the two men had found in one another. He let his gaze turn towards the ceiling, purposefully letting that moment pass before she inquired after his day.
He took the now empty wrapper from her, placing it on his bed stand table as he commented on those shipping manifests that required his review. It was hardly fun but owning the businesses he did generally weren't to begin with. His inquiry of her day, however, resorted in her assurance that she had the day off - and free of any further baking. He hardly expected the way she turned to him so abruptly, only to inquire with far too much seriousness then he was sure was necessary if he wanted to be her friend. It was, by far, the most bizarre morning he'd had in a while. Who asked to be friends anymore? This seemed like such a childish thing that, for a moment, he was unsure of how to respond. His tentative acceptance of that friendship hardly seemed satisfactory to the girl as she impressed upon him the importance of that relationship, one he was, admittedly, unlikely to follow through on.
aiden tetradore