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
Well. This day was going differently than he'd expected. Delivering to a boat was one thing. Dealing with what might have been shoeless lunatic Jesus was another. It was nothing short of a relief to see a slender, pretty blonde woman making her way towards him then from within the depths of that opulent boat. This, surely, had to be the Carolina he was told to meet, didn't it? Christ he hoped it was. Sly could hardly help that very hopefulness from entering his voice as he glanced towards her, his body visibly relaxing as a sigh of relief softly parted his lips at her assurance that she was, indeed, Carolina. The young womans head nodded eagerly before she insisted that he must be the 'Stupid Desk Man' she had heard so much about. Sly felt his eyes raise briefly at her clear tease. Scruffy Jesus, it seemed had informed the majority of the staff base of his arrival, along with affording him a new moniker.
"I begged my Mother to let me change it in high school. She told me I'd grow into it- and look how well I did. Desk delivery guy. Kicking career goals."
That very quip was delivered with a distinct....dryness. That humour perhaps easily missed by most if not for the faint tug of amusement at Sly's lip before he gestured to the van behind him- and the baseball cap atop his head with its matching logo. That cap doing a near abysmal job of containing the tousled blond locks beneath. Carolina glanced out and toward that van, her blue eyes sifting from its polished surface to Sly's hat before offering another nod of acknowledgement. The young woman seemed satisfied that he was not some sort of obscure desk bearing interloper. Carolina's soft utterance of thanks for his driving all the way out to the ship was momentarily lost upon the warlock as he glanced slightly past her and into the vast ship interior. He was almost certain he could still hear that gangly man from before. Crazy mother fuc-. The realisation Carolina was staring at him readily prompted Sly's dark blue gaze to meet the lighter hue of her own, the warlock effortlessly waving off her concern.
"It's actually my second boat this month- if you can believe it."
He could barely believe it himself. The Ark though was....vastly larger that Brennan's boat had been. In every possible way- and a damn sight more luxuriant too. Sly's gaze frowned ever so slightly in contemplation, his voice lowering just enough for Carolina alone to hear as he lent forward ever so slightly to near whisper that query on whether that lanky individual was her boss. It was almost...bizzarre to consider that someone like that was the mastermind behind the Ark and all its infamous operations. Maybe he was one of those socially awkward people who was secretly brilliant? As unlikely as that seemed. The sudden, soft, femanine laugh upon the young woman's lips coaxed a near curious look to Sly's own features as she insisted that the lanky deviant was, in fact, not her boss. Rather the man was apparently 'Tobi'. His name used as if that alone were enough explanation. Any efforts to further describe the man were met with the simple insistence that 'Tobi was Tobi' and that staying by Carolina should be enough to prevent him being consumed by the fellow. Great. Sly felt one eye lift slightly dubiously and yet- Carolina had managed to prevent Tobi's return until now. That playful wink he was afforded managed to prompt a soft snort of amusement.
"I have ample faith in you."
It was that query of just how they were going to move the desk inside that drew Sly's thoughts away from Carolina and back toward the task at hand. The warlock's gaze shifted from the door they currently stood within, to the van and back again. The desk, fortunately, was in pieces. Large, awkward, cumbersome, heavy pieces and yet it would be easier to maneuver those then it would be to try and lift an entire desk all in one. Yet that current doorway they stood within was still decently small. How readily his mind moved to make those visual calculations.
"The loading doors will be better, I think. The desk is in about eight pieces, all boxed up, but none of the pieces are exactly small. I'd appreciate your help carrying them if you think you're up for it though. Unless that Tobi fellow is going to help-."
"NO!"
That sudden shout seemed to echo from within the depths of the Ark. Sly's eyes readily widened in surprise. Where the fuck was that guy hiding? Maybe it was better that he didn't help.
"Or not."
Sly uttered near dryly once more. His head shook softly before gesturing towards Carolina to follow, the warlock leading the way back down the gangplank and to the back of the van only to gesture to the first piece within.
"If you take that side and I take this side, we can carry it together and you can lead the way to wherever this Tetradore guy wants it. I think that's who I spoke to on the phone yesterday. Deep voice. Sounded extremely excited."
Sly's lip quirked ever so slightly once more, that tease delivered in that same near dry fashion. The warlock so holding a veritable habit of offering those jokes in a near deadpan fashion. Even if they were so often lost on most people around him. Carolina, however, seemed to have a rather keen sense of humour. Sly reached forward to drag that first box to the back of the van, affording his companion time to open those loading bay doors before he grasped one side of the box, leaving the other for Carolina herself to take hold off before he started to walk backward. He was forced, by way of not desiring to fall, to glance over his shoulder every now and then to assure himself of just where he was putting his feet as Carolina guided them through that door and into the vast interior. That sudden query of his name momentarily prompted his gaze to meet her own again, that look of surprise distinctly clear. Most people....never cared to ask him that. Unless they wanted to make a complaint.
"Hmm? Oh, it's Sly."
Was she going to leave a negative review because he implined her not-boss was a lunatic? Jerry was not going to be pleased about that. Then again, Jerry was rarely ever pleased with him so what did it even matter? This was minimum wage. How far away was this office? Carolina moved to direct them toward a decidedly notable staircase then, one that seemed to go up several floors. She was joking wasn't she? Sly's gaze shifted from those stairs to Carolina and back again. The woman's features held little save for innocent expectancy. Alright then. Let the madness begin. Sly juggled that box a moment, reaching upward to pull that baseball cap off and balance it on the handrail of the stairs, that mop of tousled blonde hair catching at his eyelashes as it fell free. At least he could see a little better. Sly stepped backward, feeling for the stair with the heel of his shoe before stepping up onto that first step- and then the second. That sensation was easy to ignore at first and yet with every step he took he could hardly shake that feeling of being watched....by someone other than Carolina. Where had Tobi gone?
"So are the rumours about this place true? You run fights between Were's here? Prizemoney and all that?"
Well- it was the word on the street. The Ark was famous for it, even if the ship never openly.....advertised exactly what it did, or dabbled in. Few species other than Were's ever saw the inside of that place, was he wrong to be a little curious. Those fighting rings, after all, were fairly damning evidence.
"What do you do here? No offense but you don't exactly look the fighting type. Your lack of scars and very intact facial features lead me to believe you don't get into brawls for a living."
Besides, she was cute. The kind of cute no real man in his right mind would ever lay a hand against. Prize Money or not.
sly.