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
The man stopped thankfully and threw a question back at her. The WereCoyote didn't know what she was expecting but she wasn't expecting that. Maybe a rude comment back or for him to just ignore her completely, but he was actually willing to humor her. Great! Her scowl deepened as she wrinkled her nose. "Well they smell horrible and they probably taste worse. They're certainly no cheese fries." She used her favorite food for reference, one brow quirking as she waited to see what he would say back to that. Meanwhile, she could tell he was probably judging her current state, but she didn't mind. Malia was never called classy or vain. In fact, she'd refuse to wear clothes completely if Frost didn't make it a rule early one that she needed to look somewhat decent out in society. Being in Were form was always her preferred state anyway, so she wouldn't mind always being ready to shift. Her nose only wrinkled more at his next statement before shaking her head vehemently. "Taking what edge off? And why would I want to put something gross in my mouth? Probably makes everything after taste bad, too." Even so, she watched with mild curiosity as he pulled a box out of his pocket and flipped it open. Her head tilted again in question. "Charge? You pay money for those?" The woman couldn't help but chuckle when he mentioned her clothes. "I took more than an edge off. Some trees fell, some squirrels got pissed, grass got burned. Good times." She couldn't help but smirk as she thought about it. But a thoughtful scowl formed on her lips at the last part of what he said. "Fashion statement? Clothes doesn't talk, silly. You're lucky I'm even wearing any." She couldn't help but laugh at herself, not thinking about how a human might take that. Okay, maybe she'd been hanging around other Were's too much recently. Somehow, Malia found herself easily falling into conversation with this stranger. She had no idea who he was or where he was going when she accosted him, only that he smelled like a human and seemed pretty easy-going as far as humans went. He excused himself suddenly to blow smoke away before saying she probably shouldn't be in his way if she didn't like it and her smirk only widened a bit as she quirked a brow again. "If I wasn't in your way, then I couldn't get an answer to my question." She offered back with a light shrug. Suddenly, the Were's eyes lit up and she straightened, looking around before back at him. "You hungry? I'm starving." |