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
Tetradore's arms crossed over his chest as his vibrant emerald eyes lingered upon the nearly naked form of his Vector. The man's anger was all but palpable and yet, the Alpha regarded it with little more than a vague sort of intrigue. The cold snap to Henry's voice failed to rial him in the slightest, however, as his shoulders lifted in a vague shrug. "You are my Vector, Henry. Your business is my business." He responded, his baritone voice little more than a soft murmur. It was not often, after all, that Tetradore truly ever declared that he cared for another individual, even if such admittance of feelings was veiled behind excuses. He fell silent, however, as Henry dried off, only to drop his boxers before storming off into his closet. The Were-King followed silently in his companion's wake, the man leaning against the door frame as Ace sniffed about the interior of the man's room. He watched the puppy riffle through those boxes, his nose clearly searching for something as he stuck his whole head into Henry's things with little regard for ownership or privacy. Neither Henry nor Tetradore seemed terribly inclined to stop him though, his Vector only eying the dog with raised brows. Henry's inquiry, however, prompted yet another lift of Tetradore's shoulders in a wholly dismissive manner. "He got left with me." The Alpha sighed, hardly bothering to explain Harley's vague note that she would return in a few days. He had yet, after all, to introduce the woman to the rest of the pack...at least not formally.
Henry's sudden declaration that he didn't feel like being social, however, was one that Tetradore was more than willing to simply ignore. The Were was unnaturally good at that selective hearing. Instead, Tetradore was far more inclined to point out just how long Henry had been feeling 'unsocial' for. That scowl he was presented with surely only furthered his point - that was before Henry announced that this was all Raven's fault. A brow rose in a hint of dubiousness, the Alpha scarcely believing the she-wolf was capable of providing advice that might ruin someone's world and yet, it was clearly obvious that whatever had happened had to do with Henry and his boyfriend. ".....he's still alive isn't he?" Tetradore inquired, clearly not understanding this notion that life was permanently ruined over a temporary spat. "What did you do now?" His hand reached up, his fingers gingerly massaging his temples. Relationship advice was SO not his specialty. Fuck, his only relationship had been built on a bed of lies and manipulation. Tetradore was by far the worst person to tackle this topic - that he knew for a fact. He caught himself, however, only to insist that he wouldn't force Henry to talk about it if he didn't desire to but the boy would be leaving the Ark today - that fact one Henry seemed determined to fight. A soft sigh left his lips as Tetradore rolled his eyes. "Henry...you really can't stop me from taking you halfway across the fucking world if I want. So at least put on a goddamned pair of pants." Tetradore retorted, stepping away from the wall towards his Vector. His shadows already began to swirl at their feet - his affinity at the ready to follow through with that very threat.