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

Show the devil how good you dance


Posted on December 11, 2015 by Eleanor
West




This is where Hollywood cues the delusion,
that everything looked this blue through Sinatra's eyes.



Eleanor tried to imagine what it must taste like, to eat a bug. There were so many varieties. A grasshopper would be crunchy, she concluded silently. Maybe flaky too. A beetle? Crunchy, but with a juicy center, like a grape tomato. The thought made her wrinkle her nose again. But covered in chocolate? "That's cheating!" She exclaimed aloud, looking at him now as she continued to take jaunting awkward backward steps in order to stay in front of him. "Anything covered in chocolate is stomach-able." She said. For a moment, her tongue appearing from between her lips as she thought harder on the subject. "OK. If there are bugs there, we each have to try one. If you bail or spit it out or throw up, I win. If I do, you win." It was a game she thought of right then and there. It was a game she truly didn't want to play. But the only real way to experience the world, she thought, was to do the things you didn't want to do.

Finally, the fae circled around again, to stand neatly by his side. She shivered briefly from the cold, but cracked a snort when he elaborated on her massage therapist joke. But when he told her what he actually did, in the briefest way possible, Eleanor merely rolled her eyes. She figured as much, but half heartedly assumed he felt comfortable enough with her to be completely honest. She was a little disappointed. "Do you offer better rates than Amazon?"

Similar to her friend here, Eleanor wasn't too keen on telling people what she did for a living. There wasn't anything controversial about it. It paid her bills and then some. In some ways, she was being paid to do the work she was passionate about. In others, the art world was disillusioning her talent in her own mind. The fae worked diligently to have a normal, boring life. She had gifts and thoughts and instincts that only other fairies had, which made her different. But that heritage pressured her to live a lifestyle she didn't ask for. She didn't want to abide by the Council, on top of the social norms and general civic responsibilities that were expected of all creatures, human or supernatural. She didn't want to be targeted or judged or celebrated or attacked because she was a fairy. "Minus the starving part." She finally said, digging in her pocket to reveal a crumpled business card. It was sleek and stylish, printed for her by the university staff. It had her full name on it -- something she didn't think her friend here knew until now. It listed her as an "artist" with small box-sized pictures of her more famous expensive work. It listed the university's address and phone number as her own. "In case you run into any art you don't know what to do with, you know, in your shipping business," she said with a wink.



Eleanor | Fairy | Vinyl


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