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

he's so bad but he does it so well


Posted on December 09, 2015 by Rixon Leifsson
West
photo 1638b989-d1ad-4590-8c4d-4d16fc4716cb_zps770e0cc5.jpg

The girls momentary act of defiance is hardly missed, her spine straightening in some futile effort to achieve control of the situation she has already lost command of. Truly her efforts are almost endearing and yet the words she shouts towards him only see fit to grate against him, the barest twitch upon his normally indifferent features indicating some momentary displeasure with the woman before he engages his own powers. Her veins are easy enough to find, the heated blood within them like a beacon for his gifts as he allows his power to slither around her like a serpent, draining the heat from her system in this bare taste of his true skill as the colour itself begins to drain from her hands. Her cries of pain only begin to increase as she gasps, hugging her arms to herself as if she truly believes that will alleviate the ice within her veins, the equine content to simply...watch her, his own features indifferent, expressionless as if her suffering truly results in no tug of emotion within himself as she begs him to stop.

"I don't think I will."

It is little more than a murmur, perhaps not even loud enough to be heard over her shouts until the words he desires are forced from her lips and he allows his own power to cease its torture of her delicate skin- well aware she may have already become afflicted with frostbite even in that short time and with that mere lick of power upon her skin. He allows her a moment to breath, to gasp, to do whatever it is her instinct might entail in that moment as she moves to stumble away and he simply strides after her, no more than three or so strides bringing him to stand before the woman as a simper hardly pleasant traces his lips. What little can be seen of those violet eyes lingers upon her, seeming to take some amusement in her struggle before one hand reaches abruptly out, a single finger tilting her face upwards and towards his own.

"Do not make me explain it to you again. That is a mere fraction of what I can do. Be a good girl now and run along home."

He releases her smoothly, assured the wretched little creature had understood his message. It was...displeasing to have the knowledge that the Westside pack could become more adapt then it already was and yet, if anything, he had at least perhaps managed to halt any further advance upon their magic supply- if only for a short time. The witches hands would take a few days to heal with the assistance of a healer, more if she were without one and as such that should surely slow down her ability to create any potions. The sudden emergence of shadows around the woman however sees the snowy-haired man take a momentary step back, violet eyes narrowed somewhere beneath that tangle of hair. His confusion however, is momentary, the overwhelming scent of dog filling his nostrils, earning an abrupt snort from the creature. Even within his human guise the scent was intolerable. Any reaction he may have had however, is cut short by the wolfs own power, his toned, lithe form launched suddenly backward and into a nearby wall- forcing the breath from his body with the impact though he manages to land upon his feet all the same, eyes narrowed dangerously upon the wolf that stood over the witch now. A large wolf, to be sure, though still no large then his own animal form- Raven evidently managing to have grown a spine at some point during her recovery. Evidently nearly killing her had not been sufficient enough to teach her to mind her own business. Such a.....foolish little wolf. His business here tonight however, is done- there was little to be achieved from exterminating the wolf where it stood. No- better to leave it perhaps, to let her go crying back to her little Alpha although truly the stallion hardly aimed to forget the dog he had come to dislike so....intensely.

Hver er hræddur við stóra slæmur úlfur, Raven.

The words are whispered to the mind of the wolf alone, those smooth frosted lyrics, spoken in his own lilting accent, slipped so easily into her thoughts before the man simply turns where he is, hands folding into his pockets as he simply strides away.




Frostbite
HTML by Apollymi

Replies