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
But in spite of my trying, I feel like I'm dying
The sarcasm that laced the Were-King's baritone voice was all but palpable as he all but soaked Henry within his own shower. The muttered curse upon his Vector's lips only caused his eyebrow to rise as he watched the man scramble quickly to his feet. "You weren't getting out of bed." He commented with a small shrug of feigned innocence. That dark glare he was given hardly phased the Alpha in the slightest as he added in an afterthought, ".....and you smell." Tetradore leaned against the wall, the man simply watching as Henry reached for the facet, flipping the water off to leave Henry standing in a pile of soaked blankets. He watched as the man fetched the clean towel from the rack beside Tetradore, his Vector drying off his wet figure and dirty blonde hair. The Alpha was hardly perturbed in the slightest as Henry kicked off his boxers, storming naked through his bedroom and towards the closet. Rather, the Were-King was more than content to merely follow, the man pausing at the door frame to lean heavily upon it as he watched Ace go from box to box, sniffing and digging through each box with clear intrigue - as if the dog smelled something it was trying to find.
It was Henry's voice that drew the emerald of his eyes back towards his now dressed Vector, his eyebrow rising ever so slightly. "...or yesterday....or all last week....or the week before that...." He pointed out. Despite his...frequent absences, Tetradore was hardly ignorant to what went on within his boat - Henry's moods certainly apart of them. "Look - if you don't want to talk about whatever is going on, I won't make you. But I am going to drag you out of this room today and afterward, you can go back to your pouting. You might want to put some pants on." He nodded slightly towards Henry's current wardrobe - which presently consisted of little more than boxers and a t-shirt. It was hardly appropriate for the vague outing Tetradore intended to drag his Vector on, weather Henry liked it or not.