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
you could rattle the stars.
you could do anything,
if only you dared
She wasn't drunk enough for this conversation, not that she didn't miss Samantha or wanted to see her... there was just so many things that had happened since her friend had left. Vhalla was hardly inclined to explain anything, the woman having protected the Faerie Queen from the brunt of her... job. Luckily, Samantha was the one person she managed to keep out of Ivan's reach, as far as she knew anyways. If Ivan had known she had made a friend he would make her life a living hell and most likely drag Sam into a mess of her life. Still, it doesn't take long for the alcohol to begin to clear, several emotions raging forth in her body, threatening to spill over as she grunts at the coffee mug in her hand. Yet, she doesn't complain as she takes a sip, the hot coffee scorching its way down her throat. Wrapping her calloused fingers around the mug, she lets the warmth soak into her hands, refusing to draw forth that internal flame to warm her before she speaks again.
When the faerie woman speaks, she seems almost hesitant at first, Vhal's glacier eyes narrowing in on her as she watches the woman. The assassin wasn't entirely sure if she were angry or hurt or simply numb at Sam's reappearance, Vhalla had even gone looking for her once upon a time when Ivan sent her overseas to work. As good as Vhal was at tracking... Sam seemed to be better at hiding. The moment she realize the faerie woman didn't want to be found, or at least that's what Vhalla had taken away from it, she gave up. She accepted the fact that Sam wasn't coming back. The name's Samantha gives her doesn't really register, Vhalla looking back into the swirl of the dark coffee. It was as if her very question had released a tidal wave, Sam now explaining why she had left, the assassin trying desperately hard to focus on her words but all she could selfishly think that now that Samantha had returned... it was going to be even harder to protect her from Ivan.
Still, she looks up as Samantha strolls to her jacket, the woman retrieving the hunter dagger she had given the faerie all those years ago. "I'm glad," she said, the seemingly blood thirsty woman rather pleased that Sam had used it. At least it wasn't only coated in blood of all the kills she made. "Did you at least find your makers?" She asks casually, blue eyes flicking up to her as she takes another sip off coffee, her head beginning to clear more than she really wanted it to. Her plan for tonight would have been to get as drunk as she could to actually sleep through the night. "You should keep that close to you, the city isn't the same since you've left. It's more dangerous," she shrugs a little, looking away. "You shouldn't have come back, you will experience more pain and loss with your return here," she says, an almost dead note entering her voice. Vhalla hardly was trying to convince her to leave, the assassin was merely in a rather precarious place. Already the woman had tried to find ways around Ivan's blood bond, trying to off herself. It was incredibly frustrating... who knew trying to kill yourself would be so hard?
Yet, even in her words, there is no heat there, just an unending range of exhaustion. "Have you at least seen Dorian?" She asks finally, changing the topic hardly want to dive into her own adventures over the last two years. "He got married and... well, I sort of like Sebastian. He's become a drinking buddy of mine," she shrugs again, thinking back to the last time she had gotten drunk with him and had fallen asleep sprawled out. Even a rare smile curves at the corner of her lips at the thought of the fireball she had thrown in their mansion sending the man into an almost fit. Yet, it dies away quickly, replaced by that dead look that had become her norm over the past several months. "Why did you come back, Sam?" She finally asks, those exhausted blue eyes traveling to her friend once more, as she absently rubs at the bite mark scars on her neck from Ivan.
Vhalla Solarn
To the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered