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
aiden tetradore
There's no saving me.
I've become a shell of the man I was. Only time will tell if I'm strong enough.
A soft breath left the Were-King's lips as the emerald of his irises stared inattentively to the bright screen flashing its myriad of colors in front of him. He knew it was vital to foster that ever increasing distance between himself and the Hispanic woman. It had been distinctly unfair of him to even allow himself to get lost within her bedsheets, to find any sort of sanctuary in her caramel skin or companionship within her presence, particularly when he knew what it might one day cost her. He was painfully aware of the hurt that echoed within the soprano lyrics, Mira had clearly caught onto his absence, just as she too had noticed his aloofness of late. How he hated the knowledge that he was upsetting her and yet, he was struggling to find any sort of balance between the pack life that needed their Alpha and the vampiric woman who so fiercely strove to break any hint of strength within him. It seemed as if life was a never-ending uphill battle and Tetradore was quickly losing the willpower to even try. Even now, he found himself simply yearning to disappear - as if he could put behind him all the damage he seemed to cause over and over again. If only life would let him. The Alpha was oblivious to the almost steadfast manner in which Mira stood - with hands placed upon her hips in clear determination to be heard. Rather, his own gaze remained blankly focused upon the flicking of the screen, Tobias' depleting health bar momentarily gaining his attention despite the imagery of all Risque might do to the woman he found himself...caring for that filled his brain.
The very declaration that Maeve had been taken was hardly enough to prompt a reaction from the Alpha. She was, admittedly, a foolish child to think herself capable of finding a home or a family amongst the monstrosity that hid within the walls of the Ark. It was better for the child to find a normal life as far from the floating cargo ship as possible. Though...it would be unfortunate if she landed in the hands of those Hunters who had tried to take her before. They had certainly hardly wished her any goodwill. The very declaration that Maeve belonged to them, however, caused the vibrancy of his gaze to flutter towards the lanky man at his side. He watched as Tobias' features shifted to a scowl, the leopard clearly intended to fetch the child back regardless of his own thoughts. Mira seemed altogether quick to agree, further impressing within his Beta those feelings of possessiveness. It hardly mattered where those men took Maeve, Tobias was more than capable of finding the child wherever she was and yet, even he was taken aback by how quickly Tobias had pinpointed her, without so much as leaving the sofa. Clearly, his Beta's capabilities were expanding, enough so that Tetradore was content to let the leopard take on that role of leadership for now. After all, he was surely able to keep the position as the pack's Alpha for only so much longer. Risque would inevitably grow tired of them and that long leash she'd given her prized pet.
It was with Tobias' announcement that they would retrieve the fae girl, that saw the deviant finally press the pause button upon his controller, the sounds of their game instantly muting as the screen darkened with a black overlay. For a brief moment, the emerald of his gaze met his Beta's own though Tetradore hardly offered even the slightest indication of his thoughts before his gaze fluttered away, the controller falling out of his hand those few inches and onto the sofa's leather surface. He listened in silence to the authoritative tone used to draw Mira towards them, just as he was aware of the almost bitter hint to her sardonic soprano lyrics. The woman was clearly less than pleased. Even though, she hardly seemed to object as she approached the sofa, just as Tobias' voice reached out to him almost...tentatively. It was clear his beta was looking for some sort of permission, though Tetradore was uninclined to provide it. He might have been willing to relinquish his hold upon Tobias to search for the child himself but the Alpha had little desire to join the pair on this...charade. It was unfortunate, truly, that any time for protest quickly passed as Tobias reached for the Were-King's own affinity for teleportation. His gift was stolen as the deviant placed a hand upon Tetradore's shoulder, the Alpha's own shadows racing towards them only to result in the trio instantly disappearing from the bedroom and...apparently rematerializing somewhere within a warehouse.
He was only just given the smallest of glimpses of the interior of the building before a blanket floated down on top of him, draping the world in darkness. Tetradore's shoulders fell ever so slightly as he sat there on the concrete and yet, how attentive the Alpha was to the sound of those childish screams that echoed against the cement and steel. How accustomed he was to those sounds, as horrific as they perhaps should be. It was the scent of fire, however, that finally spurred some action from the Alpha, short-lived though the smell was. He could hear the euphoric cry of Maeve, shouting in delight of her clearly impending rescue, just as he was aware of Mira's efforts to reassure the child that they had no intention of leaving without her. It was the sound of footfalls and the announcement that they had 'friends' that caused the Were-King to finally move. He leaned forward, stretching his figure out in a distinctly feline manner before moving to his knees. The shift quickly overcame him, replacing human skin with the inky black obsidian of his once inner panther with little care or regard for the ripping of clothing that accompanied such a transformation. The cat was all but lackadaisical as he stepped out from beneath the blanket, letting it slowly fall away from his ebony frame. The vibrancy of his emerald eyes seemed all the more intense at that moment, taking on an almost ethereal neon shade as he eyed the Dark-Hunters running towards him with weapons drawn.
How familiar this very scene was. How many times had he stood here, watching an oncoming threat rush at his mistress, one he was supposed to dispose of, not that she saw many as threads in the first place. That change from the gentle, aloof King of the West to Risque's feared pet was almost unperceptive. That role was one he had played for far longer and how he excelled at it - at the mayhem, the maiming, and the murder. Five? They'd sent a measly five to stop him? Five was easy. Five was hardly even worth the effort. His jaws parted, that roar echoing within the confines of the warehouse. Quickly, his paws closed the distance between himself and those Dark-Hunters. The panther left quite at the last moment, his large frame colliding into the shoulders of one of the Hunters and yet, it was not him that was Tetradore's target. Oh no - he was far more interested in their leader. His claws dug into the poor Hunter's clothing, ripping cloth and slicing skin as he climbed up the man, only to jump off of the Hunter's shoulders in a bid to get behind the four foolish running men. His affinity to fear burst forth, encasing the Hunter that had once stood so defiantly against him. He watched as the man's pupils widened, that fear pumping him full of adrenaline - provoking that very fight or flight reflex that Tetradore was so banking on. After all, with the odds so in his favor - why not have a little fun?
This is my last goodbye