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
I will
in spite of the ache
Clearly his maker was as daft as they came. It was clear that it had never occurred to the other that a boat might be something hard for him...that the boat might be the reason Henry was in such a foul mood lately. It was clear that Tet didn't notice or didn't care, perhaps more obviously so not that the man was clearly oblivious. "...you could have bought anything other than a yacht. Was it your intention to torture me?" Maybe he was just fucking dumb. Maybe he was just thinking about himself and never once considered the fact that his vector had nearly killed his boyfriend on a yacht just as fancy as this one. No. He never considered any of that.
He tried to make conversation, to figure out who the fuck was actually in their family so he knew who he was supposed to protect. But Tet saw right through him. Henry was never hard to read. He showed every emotion he was feeling on his face. He sucked at poker because of it. "I don't fucking have anywhere else to go." That was the truth of the matter. He didn't have a home to go to. Ever since his falling out with Sterling, he hadn't lived in the apartment. He tried hotels but nothing gave him any sense of home. At least here, he didn't have to move his shit all the time. "I hate the Ark. I hate how triggering it is for me." He drank another long sip of the alcohol. Voicing feelings had never been something he was good at and admitting them was even harder. "...but I don't have anywhere else."
Not only did he not have anywhere else to go, he didn't have family. He couldn't deny the pull of the pack. Leaving would be a solo adventure he wasn't sure he was ready for. Even if he hated his family...he at least had a family. It was a love-hate relationship that he didn't expect anyone to understand. But honestly, if the ark hadn't been a yacht, he might not be resisting so much. "It's not that I don't want to be in the pack..." Why did he even bother anymore? Did it even matter?
Henry Tudor
I will rise a thousand times again