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
If it wasn't for the interruption, he probably would have kept baiting the guy until he was unconscious, slumped against the wall until morning light woke him up and he could stumble back to his hotel room for another fitful slumber. Then do it all over again tomorrow night. Even as he turned his face to the figure at the other end of the alley, marks both fresh and older could be seen. Fading bruises dotted his throat and what you could see of his chest around the stretched collar of his shirt. An old scratch on his cheek was harder to see around the fresh swelling from the burly man's fist and the blood still trickling down from the gash on his forehead. His eyes was starting to swell, too, yet he could only smirk around the blood in his mouth as the man got ready to fire again. But that's when he noticed the guy watching and turned to warn him off. Irritation flickered in Christian's eyes as he turned to the guy, dreading someone else wanting to play hero. He didn't need saving, damn it. Why did those types keep showing up? But he was almost elated when the man said he was just here to watch. A bruised brow arched up in curiosity as Christian turned his expectant gaze back to the burly man, waiting for him to continue. But alas, the guy was smart, probably afraid he would be recorded or have the cops called on him instead. "This isn't over," the man mumbled as he started down the alley toward the other guy, obviously wanting to drive him off before he continued. Christian sighed and brought his hand up, about to use his powers to call the guy's attention back over to him, when something interesting happened. The burly man looked ready for action...until he got to a certain point. Then it was like all the fight went out of his tense form. Christian watched his shoulders slump dejectedly before he moved past the other man, making sure to give him ample space as he retreated. Tilting his head, Christian turned to spit more bright red blood onto the asphalt before he sighed and started to heave himself to his feet. It was a slow task, and he had to lean against the wall to catch his breath as he finally righted himself, but when he did, he turned his full attention on the man at the other end of the alley. It was hard to see out of the swelling bloodshot eye, but he blinked and tried to focus enough on him as the man spoke. Did he deserve it? Christian couldn't help but smirk and even started to chuckle before he had to grab his side and aching ribs. The man repeated his question, his gaze almost intense as he focused on the warlock. Finally, he let out a shaky breath and nodded his head. "I deserve a lot more than a beating. Maybe that's why I keep going back for seconds and thirds." He admitted. His eyes sobered for a minute as he glanced down, picturing his dead fiance's face for a second before he pushed it away and looked back at the man. "So, why'd you have to be a prick and chase him off?" |