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

some say the world will end in fire


Posted on July 20, 2015 by Rixon Leifsson
West
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It is very near imperceptible. The other man a metaphorical wall to which each barb and jagged comment fell so uselessly against, Tetradore, so far, proving to be very near unshakable- immune to the goading words that stab and point from near every direction in search of a weak point or old wound to be ripped cleanly open. There is far more then physical capabilities to any fight, Frost entirely content to see how easily pulled apart the other man might be in a mental fashion, violet gaze unwavering in these few moments as he slings one word after another. Waiting until he hits that single, hidden sore point. Everyone has one, after all, something that guard from the world more viciously than anything else, he merely had to find what would most injure the panther to be exploited in one sense or another. Raven was clearly not the answer and yet the girl was little more than a pawn, fodder for fangs- easily replaced and truly the equine had hardly believed more of her. If he had been asked to place his bets upon who or what the other man might have been more willing to defend- aside from himself, he would have perhaps been more inclined to the Leopard or the Sister, a family member and a trusted Second and companion. No matter how indifferent they pretended to be, no matter how much they tried not to care there was always something- someone. Nadya the chink in Tetradore's seemingly impenetrable armour as his emerald gaze proceeds to narrow just enough to bring a simper to the equines lips. This information simply stored for later, for when it would be better used as a weapon against his newfound antagonist.

He had anticipated, to a certain extent, the actions of the feline in the moments that followed despite his own inexperience with this particular foe. A feline was an individual hunter, an opportunistic hunter unlike the wolf that sought family and pack to take down anything larger then a snow hare. Raven had never truly held any chance against him alone, the injuries she wore little more then the result of his toying with her juvenile attempts to actually bring him harm. Tetradore, so far, had proven a more capable opponent- yet not one wholly immune to injury. It is with no small sense of satisfaction that he feels his hind hooves collide with the thickened flesh and muscle of the panther's body- a punishment for his own wounded leg, the sheer force of which sees the unfortunate feline airborne, the cat truly lucky if he has been fortunate enough to keep his ribs intact. The stallion however, is not nearly fool enough to remain within the same place, heavy form plunged forward the moment his hooves find purchase upon the ground once more- aware to some extent of this more favoured of feline tricks- to seek the back and spine of their prey. It is forethought in this regard that surely saves his form from damage entirely too significant, unsettling the feline in near the same moment it seeks to land and yet he had not fully anticipated perhaps- the sheer weight of the other animal. Tetradore is heavier then he appears, the felines claws cutting into the white flesh of his sides in it's attempt to purchase, sending Frost plunging forward a second time.

Each muscle coils and hardens like iron beneath that snowy pelt, instinct demanding the removal of anything that seeks to rest upon his spine, claws cutting into him like the points of spurs- infuriating him all the more. His entire form seems to compress before each muscle releases in a violent and explosive display of rodeo-like gymnastics that sees the equine leap skyward, body twisting wickedly as Tetradore is left with little to cling to- forced to vault from his back in an effort to avoid the sudden slash of hooves that follow behind, designed primarily to bludgeon anything foolish enough to attempt a second lunge before the stallion swings back around to face his opponent once more. For a moment the violet of his gaze simply narrows once more, nostrils flaring with the effort of his gymnastics display, though it has perhaps been only a mere taste of his true capabilities, the heat rising to very near sizzle from his form daring the black feline to attempt a second charge. He has not nearly finished his assault here today, the few cuts he has been afforded hardly the worst damage he has ever suffered, his own form pressing forward again and towards the prowling cat- entirely content to meet the other Alpha a second time and place a hoof through his skull. He had hardly set out to kill anything today and yet his patience was a fickle thing, Tetradore truly beginning to press against his agitation.

Alexis had very near been forgotten, the sudden appearance of the girl before him seeing the towering equine halt in his advance, ears lacing back briefly against his skull as he seems to consider simply shoving her aside. This new confidence about her however- affords her a moment longer of his attention, her feminine form placed directly in front of his own to extend one hand forward and rest against his muzzle. Harpoon? What was the foolish little vixen talking about? For a moment the violet of his gaze drifts beyond her own and towards the steel spear slammed into the cement, noticing the object for perhaps the first time, eyes moving towards the barely visible figure of the leopard-turned-man resting within the ark. Hmm. Evidently the panther did manage to retain at least one friend. How very....displeasing. Alexis' touch against the delicate flesh of his muzzle once more manages to fixate his gaze upon her own a second time, tail lashing at his flanks in displeasure. It is a fault perhaps, of his personality and yet the stallion is loath to yield in any battle, not nearly finished with the feline yet. He is trained for war, trained to simply keep going- assured entirely of his ability to crush the panther entirely and yet for now- perhaps, the vixen held some sense to her words. Tetradore still had his pack, or at least one member of it. The fucking leopard evidently unafraid to fire and even Frost holds some understanding of the strategies of war.

It is with a sudden, sharp exhalation of air that he simply lifts his head away from the girl- aware of her healing touch all the same as his head swings to press against her, to push her in the direction of home. If she wanted to leave, then so be it- he could use the company for an evening or so, if she will rob him of this entertainment she can at least provide something else in it's place. He waits merely a moment for her to begin walking in the direction he has dictated before his attention returns to the prowling cat.

Keep your precious little pack close to you, if any of them get in my way again I will send them back to you in pieces. We are not done here, Tetradore- maybe next time we will see how you do without your companion to cover your ass.

He is done- for now, or at least seemingly so. Powerful form turned to follow Alexis back down the dock, shutting off the heat within his form to allow it to return to it's usual state of homeostasis, one violet eye rolling briefly back to the panther to offer a single and final parting gift. It is easy to seize upon the heat signature of the cat, to twist it, sending the temperature in his skull alone plummeting in the equivalent of a rather sudden and violent brain freeze capable of leaving him with a dull headache for the rest of the evening once the initial pain has worn away. If only to prevent him forgetting this little encounter. Until the next time.


Frostbite
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