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.
The ebony feline watched with cold apathy as the unfortunate Dark Hunter plummeted to his death. His body fell upon the concrete with a sickening crunch, the very sound of bones snapping and breaking was one he knew well. Tobias was quick to pounce upon the body, the leopard ensuring the cursed Hunter's demise before that simple chuff so coaxed the ebony feline from his perch. Those shadows were quick to embrace him, the jungle cat emerging from the depths of that shadowland but inches from the still-warm corpse. Hardly a thought was given towards the young fae that so desperately clung to Mira - the Were-King entirely lost to those instincts that had been so effectively fostered within him. The luminous emerald of his irises were entirely focused upon his Beta, the lash of the feline's spotted tail when so accompanied with that growl prompted an audible warning from the Alpha. This might have been their combined kill but there was little doubt upon whom would be feasting first upon those bits that Tetradore deemed his. His maw reached out, snapping within his Beta's general direction with a clear indication for that space he desired between Tobias and what Tetradore deemed as rightfully his.
He watched as his spotted companion stepped away, circling the corpse with clear desire, his bloodied paws leaving a trail within his wake. A secondary growl reverberated from the panther's ebony lips before the feline settled at the man's side, his head bowing as those sharpened canines bit into the fellow's side. How...familair that taste of human flesh was. For years it had been his primary source of food, the man well acquainted just which parts of the body were the most flavorful and which he preferred to avoid. His figure relaxed as the panther's teeth once again dug into flesh, blood quickly wettening his already darkened skin with each ravenous bite. That subtle shift within his demeanor was all that was necessary to prompt Tobias to once again take that leg he'd so sought to enjoy, that action one that Tetradore willingly permitted. It was only the sound of Mira's voice, echoing loudly in that otherwise silent warehouse, that prompted the Were-King to pause within that feast. Slowly, the ebony feline rose to his feet, the intensity of his gaze turned towards her as that pink tongue licked at his lips. Home? What a fanciful idea. Home. He had no home, no place of perceived safety to retreat to - the Ark might protect and shield them from the elements but it was only a matter of time before it too was taken from him.
The emerald of his irises turned from the woman in muted silence, the Were-King hardly anticipating that Tobias might so easily give up his own meal at the very promise of 'home'. It was almost begrudgingly that Tetradore trailed listlessly after the spotted cat's steps, the carnage they had created so left behind though it was not without leaving a mark on either man. That blood-stained his skin in the aftermath of that shift, his mouth stained with the same crimson hue as Tobias. A soft breath left Tetradore's lips though he hardly provided neither Mira nor the child wrapped within his blanket even a wayward glance. Those shadows jumped forward to bathe the small group in its dark caress, the Were-King invested enough to at least return to the comfortable, albeit self-imposed, solitude of his own bedroom. Those wisps of ebony smoke unfurled, leaving the group within the hallway of the Ark. Tetradore hardly even bothered to glance at the women as he started to make his way back towards his room, his progress halted only by the sensation of Mira's hand firmly upon his arm.
That touch prompted the dull emerald of his gaze to turn towards her, those muttered words serving to prompt little reaction from him but the subtle rise of a singular brow. What the hell? She seemed somehow...surprised by this turn of events. Though he'd expected that reveal of his true nature to shock the girl, her verbalized thoughts still cut through that apathy to only confirm that which he'd already known. What she had witnessed, that carnage within the warehouse...oh how it paled to what a singular day within Syn could contain. It paled to the lifetime of death, murder, and despair he had lived - a singular glimpse as she as if she was ready to cry, that glassy gaze to her fiery eyes hardly going unnoticed. It was better she learned the truth of him now...before things got to messy for either of them. He watched in silence as Mira insisted she didn't need him, the young woman leading the fae child away from him with a single-minded intention. Yes...that was right. The entire purpose of the Ark was to give his pack everything they needed...so one day...when the time came...none of them would need him.
This is my last goodbye