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

we got a long, long way to go


Posted on December 17, 2014 by Alekai Evero
West
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For a moment longer the golden-eyed man merely watched the warlock perform his unholy magic or whatever the hell it was, letting the severed statue head roll away and into the back room in an effort to entertain the cat that was surely lurking then. He was hardly surprised, really, that Tobias would seek sanctuary within this harbour-side hell hole, the misfits of society seemed entierlly capable of gravitating towards each other although whom was corrupting whom in this relationship remained to be seen, Azrael's knowledge of the cat assuring him entirely that the boy was far more manipulative then his weakened, child-like exterior often portrayed. For now however, he is content to ignore his previous prize, putting away with a single, sweeping motion, a muttered curse released under his breath and towards the feline he was entirely sure was still listening. His attention however, returns in due cause to yet another disliked individual, the warlock leaning against the desk in a momentary repose that Azrael is entirely assured perfectly captures the mans perverse and general laziness. What Serafina saw in this man he hardly knew and yet nor does he particularly care to offer the thought the mental capacity it would take up to consider, shoving thoughts of the dark haired witch from his mind as he is so often forced to do throughout the day, a loose shrug of his own shoulders offered towards the jesting warlock, his own response entirely emotionless in it's delivery, as if Davante's working at Mcdonalds is a readily accepted piece of information.

"That seems fitting to someone of your skill set."

The comment is simple, off handed, lip twitching ever so lightly in some vague hint of amusement as the Hunter simply moves to brush past the evidently agitated other man, strolling easily out and onto the shop floor. He can feel the....energy within the room, far more than one artefact evidently befit of magical properties, the feeling crawling with discomfort upon his skin. Perhaps Davante, like other warlocks and witches took some sort of pleasure or comfort in the feeling of so much magic about him and yet Azrael feels nothing short of disdain, the feeling oppressive, foreign, every instinct within his frame alight and tense in the mere presence of even this weaker, artefact based magic, barely a ripple in comparison to the energy that linger about Davante himself and yet for now the blonde chooses simply to ignore it. He pauses beside what evidently appears to be some sort of weapon, hardly daring to touch anything within this ridiculous store less it somehow disintegrate him. He hardly believes Davante capable of such magic and yet trust in others is perhaps not his strongest of traits, eyes narrowed slightly when the ring of the door sees the man's attention shift towards a middle-aged man with a shopping list. The presence of another warlock sees the Hunter only stiffen further, golden eyes flicking briefly towards Davante, clearly expecting the warlock to do something in regards to dealing with his own customer before the evidently ridiculously naive man moves to pause before himself. Hi, yeah, I need basalt and something like silver but not silver, what's another material like that?

One eye merely proceeds to lift upward, the customer having failed to look up from his list, evidently oblivious to the nature of the Hunter before him as Azrael merely continues to frown. He loathes being in this...shop, much less being forced to deal with what is rightly Davante's job to bother with, the Hunter merely reaching behind himself to grasp whatever item he could from the shelf behind, abruptly handing the warlock what appeared to be some sort of...stick.

"Here."
I didn't ask for-
"You asked for something not silver, that's not silver."

It is only upon this particular point that the customer actually proceeds to look up, feature grown pale at the sudden realisation of just what stands before him, Azrael hardly daunted by such a reaction, merely allowing the other man to fully comprehend his situation as a smirk of sorts laced his features once more.

Well...yes...I...but this is...well....it isn't really what I wanted...I need something a bit...like....weapon-like...
"Fuck off or I'll show you entirely how much like a weapon it can be."

This seems to be entirely enough to unhinge the man, the pale-faced warlock merely nodding before hurrying out the door, far to flustered to have remembered to pay as the hoody wearing hunter merely leans back against the shelves once more, another ring of the door seeing a witch enter, her gaze resting upon him merely a moment before she pivots in place and hurries right back out the door. Davante, it would seem, would have no further customers today.

"and what university did you gain that phD from, free degrees dot com?"

The clatter and bang of Tobias somewhere within the back of the room saw the mans gaze narrow once more, his determination to one day be rid of the infernal feline seeing his hand brush momentarily against the gun at his side before forcing his hands to remain folded across his chest. Why he was still within the store was truly a mystery even to himself and yet stepping outside of the building would only mean another opportunity to find and hunt something else, Davante's shop at least a momentary reprieve from the outside and perhaps not the worst location he could think of to be, despite his displeasure in his current company.

"Unless you are willing to turn Tobias over to me then perhaps you can be of assistance and explain why the hell you have so many weapons in here? What on earth do you expect to actually kill with this?"

He simply moves to lift the rather old, worn dagger from the shelf, finger running easily along the sides of it.

"It's fucking blunt. I could throw it at you and do more damage with the handle then the blade itself. You do realise the idea behind this weapon is to stick them with the pointy end don't you? Or did you phD not cover that."

One eye simply lifts once more, evidently content to do little more than mock the unfortunate warlock today.

Alekai Azrael Evero
HTML by Apollymi

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