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

you're the one i need & i'm the one you loathe


Posted on August 26, 2015 by AIDEN TETRADORE
West
There was something wholly refreshing of the cool sea air filling his lungs, the salty tang entering his nostrils and the cool, near-autumn zephyr gingerly caressing his dark locks. It was enough that for the first time in a while, Tetradore found himself venturing from the Ark that he so presided over. Usually, the man chose to remain within the hull of the warm ship, a by product of perhaps his exceedingly long stay within the now ashen remains of the vampire dance club. For so long his life had consisted of one central place that there were times he often forgot the sheer magnitude of the world that quite literally rested outside of his door. A soft breath of relief left his parted lips as the man wandered from the gently rocking ship. The crash of waves slowly dying in the distance. Despite being a largely solitary creature, there were very few times when the man was actually alone. Tobias was his ever vigilant shadow - that is, until Frost's recent invasion upon his territory. His run in with Raven had caused Tobias to quite virtually never leave her side until he was assured she was better. It left Tetradore largely alone - a state in which he unsurprisingly appreciated.

For a while, at least, Tetradore was content to wander the docks with no real intention, merely enjoying the sea salt air in his lungs and the humdrum of the day around him. Eventually, however, the day faded into dusk and dusk soon left him in a plethora of darkness. Somewhere further towards the seashore the black market would slowly be coming to life, their usually tightly shuttered doors beginning to unlatch only to those who knew of their existence. That dark, shady world would happily accept him with open arms, his Ark often being the resting point of goods coming from across the seas before landing into the hands of waiting customers. It certainly wouldn't hurt to see what products they were pilfering, lest something catch his eye. The man had only just changed his course before a peculiar sound hit his ears, causing him to halt mid stride. For a moment, he'd considered letting the shift over come him. There were so few that were willing to engage within his large, ebony feline form. It was easy to run off trespassers without bothering with conversation - and yet...as he wandered closer towards the distinct metallic sound, there was something that made him pause.

It was the distinct outline of her feminine figure, one that Tetradore recognized surprisingly well. He remembered far too fondly his efforts to steal from her, attempting to learn a skill that Tobias had mastered not only well but effortlessly. The man paused behind her, his back leaning against the wall as his arms folded across his chest and for a moment he was content to simply watch her as she so attentively focused on her latest creation. "I think you might have missed a spot." His smooth baritone voice reached out to her and yet it was merely in jest. Tetradore certainly had no merits to make judgement upon her art, having already seen what she could do. He was sincerely certain that whatever her creation was shaping up to be, each stroke of aerosol paint was made with purpose.
aiden tetradore

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