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
When the shopkeeper had told me there was customer service training, I had laughed in her face. Customer training in a place that sold weaponry to supernatural freaks? Yeah, right. I hadn't attended, nor had I dealt with the repercussions in anyway probably appropriate. Like that little pow-wow would have given me any inkling of how to deal with the situation at hand. What, did I hand her a gift card and say 'Sorry, better luck next time'? Or did I do everything my instincts told me and kick the little bitch in the face the second she bared her teeth again? This was getting boring, very quickly. I had caught the words she was emanating. This bitch felt the dagger was hers? Clearly, she had rethinking to do, and quick. The dagger, it's maker, it's owners owed me. Laws in our world were different... Laws in our world cared far less for police, constitutions, careful written word. They cared more about the combat of our powers, of our intermingling species. The dagger wasn't hers. When she crouched, I was ready to move in a second's notice. The door opening of the shop had changed that, though, meaning I missed the cue of her attack. Her tell was her tail; it flicked before she made any move, that much I'd picked up on through our first few minutes. Most were-animals had one considering their feral, animalistic instincts caused them to act like their counterparts. Animals could be predicted pretty easily, watching their eyes move a fraction of a way, or how their hair rose in different areas. She'd flicked her tail and told me everything, even though her teeth had someway found their way around my calf. I swore under my breath, instantly reacting by letting the dagger in my hand pin her tail down onto the desk. "That was cute, little puppy." Pain, I could deal with. The sting spreading from where she had bitten me felt like venom, almost, even though I knew there was no special property I'd receive from a bite of a were-animal. Pain was comfortable, helping me fall back into familiar motions. I had pinned her tail onto the desk, but at the same time used my hands to rise the dust that had been on much of the fixtures in the shop, coaxing the dust into columns and then bars to cage her right there on the desk. I stood, angry enough that the wince I felt didn't meet my features. The bite would heal quick enough, and what didn't heal on it's own I would be able to speed along in my own time later. It wasn't even the actual bite that pissed me the fuck off. It was the audacity; this stupid little bitch coming in here, coming in here with a demand. I'm sorry, darling, but no single person was able to or going to be able to take the dagger; the blood debt for me ran too deep. My voice was as dark as the blue of my eyes had become, rumbling as heavy as thunder in a southern rain storm. " Let's be clear: if you are in any way related to the pack that this dagger belonged to, I have absolutely every reason to kill you. Move again, and I will skin you, sell your pelt to your family, and turn you into dog food." I was glowering, my eyes darkening as I stood before her. God, it would feel good to keep my word to my threat. " I can smell the fear on you." davante Aiming to misbehave. |