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 eyebrow rose ever so slightly at the seemingly dejected manner in which Raven stared at the floor - her healing was seemingly a point of contention for the woman though why Raven seemed so upset about it was beyond Serafina's understanding.
The witch was quick to brush off any such ideas, however, at the very mention of her finished potion. With her bottle of glowing liquid in hand, Serafina approached that door - allowing Raven the moment she desired to summon her shadows in some manner to keep them safe from what lay on the other side. Admittedly, Serafina was fairly certain the man was still taped to her chair but...even she was willing to play it safe. The woman was almost amused, as she pushed open the door to her workroom, to find the man still tied to her chair, on the floor. Neither woman, it seemed, was terribly impressed with his efforts as the pair snorted almost in unison. Serafina gingerly swooshed the liquid in her vial as she offered those instructions to her familiar. She watched as the small flick of Raven's hand pulled both man and chair back upwards, the fellow's head colliding roughly against the wall. A soft sigh left the witch's lips.
Her lips pressed together in a hard line as Serafina trailed in Raven's wake, the woman silent as she watched her familiar position her hands on top of the man's nose - effectively closing off that avenue for breath. She could tell that look of panic within his eyes as the photographer seemed to realize that difficult place that he was put in. That dark tone to Raven's voice hardly seemed to put him at ease, much less the mythical glow to the liquid Serafina herself approached with. The woman hardly hesitated as she began to pour the potion down his throat. The photographer, in turn, was quick to begin to struggle against the entire process. She watched that gurgle as he tried to spit out the mysterious liquid and yet, his need to breathe overrode even that fear, forcing far more of it to be swallowed in order to get even a gasped breath. She watched intensely as her potion was consumed, the vial was soon empty as the girl stepped back to glance at her cellphone.
It was several long moments of silence later that a small alarm began to ding upon her phone, alerting her of that potion's effectiveness, even though the man in front of her hardly appeared any different than before.
"Jack - Jack Grasst."
"I....I'm a..."
Serafina could tell he was struggling against her potion, her eye narrowed.
"I'm a private investigator. I was...hired to."
"I...I don't...know. I never met him in person."
"I'm supposed to leave them at the front desk of the Witchery...room...er...402? It's..on my business card. In there." He nodded towards his wallet in Raven's hands and curiously the girl glanced over towards it.
"No...once every few years."
"...to find you."
Her stormy gaze pivoted quickly back to the man, only to frown ever so slightly. Who would want pictures of her every few years? This clearly didn't have to do with Azrael then - he had only been in her life for a short amount of time.
serafina dubois