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
Her head felt like it was it was both on fire and submerged under water. It was near impossible for the woman to hold onto any thought, that feeling slipping through like water through fingers. All she knew was she was free. Something happened that caused the Hunters keeping her captive all this time to mis-dose her. It was just enough for Nadya to lash out with her powers, exploding the metallic items around her that send flying scrap metal everywhere and embedded into her captures. It was a blur from there. She stumbled out into the night air which felt foreign against her face and bit with the cold.
How long had she been in there? Being poked, prodded, tortured for information. She was sure many times that it would be the end of her. Her body a slew of new and old injuries she sustained at their hands. All Nadya could manage to focus on was that pull that guided her to Sacro. Blood pulls blood.
Dressed in thin blue hospital pants and drawstring shirt, Nadya blindly and weakly followed that tether to the very edge. Confusion though rose through her at the sight of the boat that sat at the dock where the pull was coming from. That couldn't be right...this wasn't his boat. Was it? Hadn't it been a tankard? Was she remembering wrong? As Nadya tried to press into her memories it was like trying to muck through quicksand. There were holes and emptiness that she couldn't understand. Nadya pressed up the plank to the entrance of the luxury ship and at least saw a vaguely familiar face at the entrance. "...Jackel?" Nadya raised a brow as it was him she was sure but there was age on his face she couldn't place. "...Miss ...Miss Tetradore...Nadya.." Jackel near stammered back. He had heard the rumors of her sudden disappearance but it wasn't her reappearance that caused him to be taken aback...it was her general appearance. Nadya's attire was something she wouldn't have been caught dead in before, barefoot, extremely pale, with healing bruises on her face, and when his gaze flickered down he saw bruise marks from restraints on her wrists and ankles.
"Come in, come in." Jackel urged Nadya into the warmth of the ship and off to the side where a plush bench was perched. "Wait right here." He instructed, only to step a few feet away to the intercom on the wall. "Uh...Mr. Tetradore, sir....you should come to the door. It's....uh....your sister." All the while Nadya reminded on the bench, looking at her hands on her lap, attempting beyond everything to remember...anything.
Nadya Tetradore