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
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
Don't fret precious, I'm here
Posted on October 13, 2015 by Davante Dorian
The devil has my ear today.
Staffing Arsenaal had taken away from my beloved solitude that was inevitable when I entered the shop. Instead, now I had to worry about whether or not Minn had eaten something she wasn't supposed to; whether Tobias had knocked everything off the ceiling in a decidedly playful manner; whether Askaree had eaten anyone (do crocodiles do that?). Spencer, what a good boy, kept to himself more than anything else and for that, the man deserved some kind of award. Never before had working in this shop meant I needed some kind of socially acceptable mood â€" oh, believe me, it does now. I'd come to the store looking to get rid of some nasty, pent up energy that would do my creative work good. Now, instead of arriving knowing that I would feel better when I left, I've begun to worry I'll leave worse than I arrived. While hiring more employees was entirely necessary, doesn't mean I have to be a fan.
I'm not.
Upon my most recent arrival, I'd plugged my music into the speakers so I could relish in the fact that any customers would have to listen to music heavy in bass and full of malevolent lyrics. While the music wasn't what you'd expect from that description, I have a love for haunting voices, dysphoric melodies, and bass that you can feel vibrating up your spine. Committed to the idea of keeping customers away today, I didn't bother putting the 'open' sign up before retreating to the dimly lit workspace in the back. There was a particularly special item calling my name, and who am I to refuse a beautiful piece? I settled into the familiar routine, finding the tools I wanted to use to continue my design. The familiar movements encouraged me to let go of the irritability I'd walked in with, and to lose myself in the tedious task of etching markings into the hilt of an ivory sword to warp the piece even further rendering it fantastical instead of merely beautiful ivory.
That's until the bell of the door ran out enough that I was ready to use the knife on whoever interrupted me from a particularly difficult stroke and I'd nearly severed the hilt into two pieces. Oh look, there's that irritation again. Seering from the bottoms of my feet all the way up to my head (did steam come out my ears) I stood up with a fairly loud expletive announcing how I felt about an intruder. Yeah, that's right. Intruder (what the hell is a customer anyway?)
Standing on the far side of the desk where transactions were typically made was the figure of a woman I had come to know with only the slightest traces of familiarity. Raven was important to both Serafina and Tobias, which meant guilty by association. There was no way I'd lose the way ice had reached my eyes, but I sighed as if relieved that she wasn't some random person.
"Hello Raven. What can I do for you?"
Terse but polite, my arms crossed over my chest as my fingers nearly twitched for a cigarette I'd forgotten on my workspace. With a quick slide of my fingers over my hands, the cigarette came to my fingers and I could light it there, inhaling a brutal staleness that at least overrode my irritation with having to be social.
I'm here.
Replies
- virtue has a veil, vice a mask - By Raven Clocksworth on October 14, 2015 at 7:40 PM