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
Ashton gave the bartender a simple smile, trying to be a friendly face amongst a sea of people who only seemed to frown or scowl. Whatever had pissed in their Wheaties this morning was not about to dampen his own mood. He would continue to be kind to them, offering them a taste of southern hospitality, even if they didn't give any in return.
When the man gave him a bud off the tap, he smiled. "Thank you, sir." The man only seemed to huff and turn his attention to another patron who was being rather rude in his demands for something stronger than whatever it was he was drinking. Were people simply not taught manners anymore? If he had ever acted as that man did, his mother would have turned him over her knee and busted his but with the end of his father's belt. She wouldn't care where they were or who saw. Such rudeness would not be tolerated in the Doss household.
He took a sip of the beer, letting the long sip linger over his tastebuds before he finally chose to swallow. It tasted odd...more like old. Perhaps people here didn't drink much Budweiser. Most people seemed to be drinking hard liquor or cocktails. There weren't that many drinking beer. Oh well, he would enjoy what he was given instead of trying to ask for something a little more fresh (or bottled). The bartender looked rather irritated and Ashton was not about to make his day worse.
What startled him was the sudden appearance of someone beside him, leaning his full weight into the bar. Eyes looked up at the stranger, listening his request to say something else. Had he lost his mind? "I bed your pardon?" He hadn't missed the country accent, though his was far more refined and elegant over the country hillbilly type accent this fellow had. He supposed it was comforting enough.
Whatever the man's real desire was, he seemed content enough with his answer, even if he didn't clarify his question as Ashton had asked. At the question of where he was from, he shrugged. "North Carolina originally. But I must confess, I'm not here collecting for a church. My outfit is just my style of dress." While Ashton was deeply religious, he hadn't come here with is Bible beneath his arm nor had he started preaching the gospel to those seated at the bar. He hadn't come in his suite which is what he would have normally worn to church. But...this man didn't care about what he would wear to church. "I only came for a Bud." There was something off about this fellow and so he refrained from telling him that he was scoping out places to take his girlfriend on a date. From his attitude, he doubted the man cared at all.
Ashton did not miss the way the man looked him up and down. He might not know exactly what the man was thinking, but it was clear the man was judging him. He sighed. He was often judged but Ashton didn't care what anyone but God thought about him. God would want him to be friendly. And so, he extended his hand to the other. "Ashton. Pleasure to meet you." He offered the man a welcoming smile, even if he didn't expect much in return.