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
There was a certain practiced ease to the girl's lyrical speech - one that suggested she had either studiously recited it many times within the mirror or was far too experienced with the tang of rejection. He wondered perhaps, on the quality of her potions, on the potency of the liquid held so precariously within his hand,. His emerald eyes intently watched the only barely glowing vial, vaguely inquisitive as to it's contents. His gaze shifted only at the sound of a singular word, his placid features contorting to one of brief displeasure. "They are not pack." His baritone voice interrupted with firm finality, one the seemed to suggest that using such a term lightly was an insult in itself. Still, the man did not overly take offense to her incorrect assumption, instead merely falling silent to listen to the girl as she continued her pitch, vocalizing with uncertainty the power that she held. His eyebrows rose ever so slightly at her hesitation, hardly bothering to tell her that the moment she left he would be equally as aware of her affinity. "I suppose that could be useful." He responded simply with a small shrug to his masculine shoulders.
Despite the joyous tone that echoed over her lips, Tetradore failed to find the same amusement in his companion's antics. A sigh left his lips though he hardly bothered to pursue the topic any further, instead merely accepting the loss of his brocollini. Instead, Tetradore focused on the terms he had to offer her, ensuring that even Tobias' desire for cookies would be met, as much as perhaps he too would have enjoyed such a treat. The girl's certainty that she would bring such cookies, and his deviant companion's reply that in return he would protect her was enough to bring a small nod of satisfaction. His attention, however deviated the moment Tobias disappeared, full anticipating the boy getting in far more trouble then he had anticipated. His hand reached up to rub his temples, already expecting the worse only to find himself pleasantly surprised that the boy came back with a bowl of ice cream and cookies. It was a treat that was certainly far more up his alley. He settled comfortably within his chair, taking one of the offered bowls from the boy, almost entirely forgetting the girl till his companion voiced dissatisfaction at her continued presence.
His eyebrows furrowed, turning to glance at her, "Oh. Come back tomorrow before the fights and we can go over which potions you're allowed to sell. You can go now." He spoke in a dismissive fashion, reaching down only to haphazardly toss the witch her bag - far more interested in the sweet treat and the fights that were just beginning to take place below.