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
The Macedonian Monarch intently observed the very manner in which Aiden's features seemed to twist so subtly from concern to suspicion, only to fall further still into blatant abhorrence for the celebration that was surely being forced upon the boy. He had, admittedly, come to anticipate his grandson's utter aversion for those celebratory moments in which he was so forced to be the very epicenter of attention. It would take time, he knew before the boy truly adjusted to his new role within their family - after all, how long had it been now since Aiden had truly had more than just those fleeting visits from the Frenchman? His own involvement within the boy's life, after all, had been distinctly limited thus far, thanks to Matteo's insistence. He had, however, long since come to suspect his loss that had prompted his stay in Sacrosanct and the invention of The Inner Sanctum had largely been a ruse from the fae to ensure he remained close in the event fate required the Macedonian's intervention on Aiden's behalf. Alexander kept his silence for now, however, allowing Matteo to handle his son's discontent as he saw fit. The very persistence of the boy's silence, however, hardly boded well for those few favorable futures the Frenchman had seen and yet, Alexander refused to let their combined efforts go to waste. Not when so many emotions so rode upon Aiden's response to this very gift - more so now than ever before.
Dorian, especially, seemed particularly susceptible to the ever guarded moods of his sibling. Though their trip together had proven beneficial for their relationship, such a connection to Aiden could be...taxing when the young fae was so ignorant of all his brother so frequently went through. That discomfort the young fae felt was painfully clear, at least to Alexander, as the Italian shifted ever so hesitantly in his place. It was that singular gesture forward that seemed enough to spur Dorian into action, his features brightening in a habitual manner before he presented his card to his brother. That explanation he gave, however, was rewarded with little more than a blank stare from Aiden as the Were's gaze turned downwards towards the meticulous drawing etched upon the thick cardstock. The boy's silence only continued for several moments longer before Aiden's emerald irises glanced upwards, his lips parting only for those syllables to die before they were ever voiced. It was the weight of Alexander's own blue-green gaze that seemed to chase away any of the man's usual cynicism - their gaze but briefly met, those words passed utterly unspoken between them before Aiden seemed to change his response. That word of gratitude held but a hint of an inquiry to the end, as if the Were was uncertain of exactly the reaction he should hold to win that approval he sought. A small nod of acceptance was the only glimpse Alexander gaze the boy before his attention turned towards Sebastian - the vampire clearly taking the opportunity to intervene with the wrapped box within his hands.
Alexander watched as Aiden reached for the black box, the wrapping paper carefully peeled away to reveal the wooden box beneath. That expensive label, however, only seemed to baffle the Alpha further as he stared near blankly the numbers stamped upon its surface. Really, 1967 had been a good year for whiskey, the Were-King clearly oblivious of exactly what he held in his fingers, much less the very cost of that singular bottle. To find a liquor so old was a rarity - well, that was except for those casks that Matteo and himself had hoarded deep in the depths of their own cellars and warehouses. There were caskets coated with dust as they aged to perfection for when 'the moment was right'. Such thoughts, however, were temporarily chased away as Matteo took the opportunity to inform Aiden of the very lengths their family had gone through this year for the Were's sake alone. Even Alexander could hardly help the soft snort that left his nose at the fae's ploy. To think they might do all of this for a bottle of whiskey, good or not! He watched as Aiden's features turned even more baffled as the Were glanced up at them, clearly struggling to find that balance between the appreciation he was supposed to display and his own internal thoughts. That singular syllable the Hispanic uttered, however, seemed enough to prompt Matteo to hold out his hand - offering the Alpha his true gift.
After a quick exchange of keys and wrapping paper, Matteo nodded briefly towards the warehouse door. With those ownership papers still in hand, Alexander effortlessly passed off the task of opening the door to the vampire, the Englishman close enough and that vampiric strength surely strong enough to take care of the task. The Prince pulled the door open, only to reveal that jet black car settled within the depths of the darkness - the pooling of the overhead light cast a gentle glow upon the magnificent machine. How carefully Matteo had arranged that vehicle for that reveal, that soft utterance of a 'happy birthday' the final works spoken before the entire family fell to silence, the weight of their collective gazes upon Aiden himself. For several long moments, the Were seemed to merely stare at the vehicle in a wholly anticlimactic fashion, as if the boy was struggling to grasp that they had purchased him a car. Eventually, however, Aiden's eyes turned from the car to the card and back again, the man finally making that connection from Dorian's drawing to the vehicle in front of him. Sluggishly, the Were stepped into the depths of the warehouse, intently examining the vehicle with each step he took. Aiden seemed to circle the vehicle in a clear effort to find something, only to pause at the very back of the car.
For a moment, Aiden seemed to linger behind the vehicle, his fingers brushing against the letters before, tentatively, the boy continued his circle. It hardly took long before Aiden was back at the very front of the car, his intense stare hardly deviating from the vehicle in the slightest. Abruptly, the car's lights flashed, that gentle beep informing the group at large that Aiden had finally pressed that button on the key's fob. A small simper crossed even Alexander's features as Aiden turned to finally face them, the group at large still waiting for the result of all those months of planning. Those words Aiden finally gave them were distinctly few, however, before the Were fell back to that awe-struck silence. Matteo, however, seemed more than willing to assist the poor Were in coping with the very magnitude of that gift as the fae stepped forward to place his hand upon Aiden's shoulder. Gently, he restated the very part each of them had placed in the acquisition of the car, only to offer the boy a soft jest in some effort to alleviate any awkwardness such a gift had imparted upon the Were. He watched as Matteo gingerly reached out to pry that box of liquor and card from Aiden's hands, the Frenchman clearly shepherding the overwhelmed man towards the driver side of the vehicle.
That singular parenting sentence only furthered that glimpse of amusement upon Alexander's features, though the Dark Hunter remained where he was, leaning against the now opened door frame of the warehouse. He waited only as long as it took Matteo to rejoin him before his blue-green gaze shifted towards his own son. "You don't truly expect him to listen, do you?" Alexander inquired, his eyebrow rose with a clear hint of skepticism. As if Aiden was truly capable of staying beneath the speed limit in a car such as that. Alexander had erased enough of Aiden's infractions to know the man was quite the demon behind the wheel of his sportscars. It was a fact he hardly minded though, the Hunter taking some measure of pleasure in further infuriating his own Council with the disappearance of each seemingly broken law. Today, he was certain Aiden would be racking up his fair share of those violations, though he was content to turn a blind eye to them. "We'll give these to him back at the Sanctum," Alexander added with a small gesture of the manilla folder in his own hands. "Sebastian, you can come with us." He watched as that glimpse of surprise upon the vampire's features turned to a subtle look more akin to dread as the Englishman fathomed exactly what he was being told. After all, this would be the first time the Prince was alone with Matteo and himself. Clearly, the Frenchman had taken his job as terrifying father-in-law with great seriousness.