West

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.

What You'll Find Here

Black Market
Cull & Pistol
Noah's Ark
Syn

Black Market

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.

What You'll Find Here

Edge of the Circle

Cull & Pistol

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

Noah's Ark

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

Syn

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

don't need no champagne poppin' entertainment


Posted on August 27, 2022 by Darcy Blackjack
West

on a steel horse I ride




The 'choir boy' looked almost startled by his appearance and yet, to the fellows credit, he made some effort to keep himself composed as Darcy's request to 'say something else' prompted a look of confusion. The younger man's response was almost indignant. The tone of his words hardly lost upon the vampire and yet those southern notes were, seemingly, all that Darcy had desired to hear. He hadn't been mistaken then. This was a fellow Southerner. Albeit not one who had come from the deep depths of Georgia like the Ravager himself. Choir Boy's accent was almost...fancy like. A well-to-do Southern boy then. Darcy's mismatched gaze narrowed slightly and yet his apparent fascination with the Were so hardly seemed to falter. That query of just where he had come from seemed to prompt a shrug from the man before he insisted he was originally from North Carolina- only to add that his outfit was apparently hardly related to any church and that this was what he had chosen to wear. Darcy allowed one eye to lift almost dubiously. His mismatched gaze roved over his companion once more with no effort to hide that clearly judgemental investigation.

"Yar mean ya ain't just lost a bet wit someone?"

His lip quirked upward in amusement. His slanging words holding a note of...teasing and yet whether those words were in good humor remained to be seen as a faint chuckle seemed to catch within his throat . His interest, however, remained upon the younger man beside him. Darcy content to continue to lean agianst the bar as the other patrons afforded the man a notable wide berth. Several off them offering the unfortunate Were almost pitying looks and yet none dared to intervene. Indeed, most seemed inclined to watch that interaction. Darcy, after all, was so hardly known for....socializing in any sense.

"Yar a Tar Heel den eh? I been down ta Fayetteville couple years back. I ain't mind it. I'm from da great state o' Georgia meself."

Darcy's head nodded. As if the greatness of Georgia was simply unarguable. The younger man's insistence he had only come for Bud prompted Darcy's gaze downward and to that drink within the man's hand. Bud was by far one of the least popular drinks within that bar and yet Were's had always been a...lesser species. Whether they were from the South or not. What a Were chose to drink was hardly his concern. This was merely further proof they lacked taste buds as far as he was concerned. The Choir Boy shifted abruptly, offering his hand along with his name in a near classic display of that infamous Southern Hospitality. A notion Darcy was, for now, equally content to return as his own hand extended to return that simple shake.

"Darcy."

Ashton? That wasn't a name he had heard often. Either within the city or the South. Must have been something fancy again. The vampire shifted to settle into that bar stool beside Ashton then, the strong scent of canine continuing to permeate the air around him. That scent was almost....jarring in a place that held so many felines.

"I ain't seen yar kind in 'ere too often. Yar a dog ain't ya? Ya smell like one. Did yar really come ta dis bar cause yar wanted a Bud?"

Surely Ashton could smell the cats that roamed the halls couldn't he? Syn had a reputation for them. A great number of them Were's just like Ashton himself and yet those feline Were's were hardly so free to leave...


Darcy

I'm wanted, Dead or Alive


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