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
It seemed she always found herself her, in the quiet stillness of the Ark before normal operating hours. As always, she had her music playing quietly overhead, the cavernous metal corridors of the ship easily amplifying the music and giving the space the eerie otherworldliness that so often occupied spaces that were typically filled with noise. She hummed quietly along with the music, occasionally allowing a few lyrics to fall from her lips as she cleaned and sorted the glasses for the upcoming crowds. Every night was a busy night in the Ark, but tonight was set to be a major match and so no doubt it would be even more so. Her hair was cinched loosely at the base of her neck before flowing into a waterfall of soft blonde curls over her back almost to her narrow hips which swayed gently to the music's rhythm until something cause the hair on her neck to stand on end. It was that feeling of being watched from across a room, doubly odd as there shouldn't be anyone in the space at this time of day. Her nose twitched as she caught his scent in the recycled air, the fact that he was not a Were rather a surprise considering the Arks typical clientele.
At the sound of his footsteps approaching the bar she turned around, letting her hazel eyes scan up his figure until they landed on his angular face and mop of dark hair. What exactly he was she still couldn't quite place, but at least he didn't keep her wondering about what he was doing here. Her gaze slid to the envelope he placed on the bar boldly emblazoned with the name of ship's owner and alpha. What did he want with Tetradore?
She watches his eyes leave her and return to roving around the metal façade of the ships interior, the balcony overhead and the chained walls of the arena below. There was a lot to take in if you weren't used to it, which he very obviously wasn't.
Looking back at the envelope she reached a slender hand towards it.