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
Tonight has been a slow night for the pack. Caesar is growing restless of sifting through garbage cans night after night so I planned something big for us but the rest of the pack is getting fat and lazy on the outskirts of this god forsaken town. They don't want to hunt for their food when they can get it free. The neighborhood is already cursing our names, I'm sure. The pack terrorizes the town night after night, flipping over trash cans and scattering everything you can't eat. I'm heading to his favorite napping spot, ready to wake him and lead him somewhere for a two on one hunt, at least something to keep his demons at bay so I don't end up having to bury another pack mate. I seem to be the only pack member that believes in burying the dead. The rest of the pack leaves them to be picked clean by the buzzards but I couldn't do it anymore. I broke the tradition and started one of my own. Every time someone in our pack dies, I don't allow the pack to move on until we've given them proper burial. Somehow it just makes it feel better to me, like closure. The last time Caesar got restless, he took out his malice on a younger coyote, barely past being a yearling. An omega still and always getting beat up, but this time it was different. No one could get Caesar to stop and I didn't want to hurt him so I tried to stay out of it. The coyote's mother was delirious for days, grieving her lost son and eying Caesar with a vengeance. Over time she got over it but I'll never forget the pain I saw in her eyes. I don't want to see that anymore so tonight I was going to do something different. But when a bright set of golden eyes catches my attention, I pause in my tracks and sniff the air. A cat. A big juicy house cat. Rare to find in the woods since they know better usually but this one must be a little over confident. Too bad for her. I lick my lips and slip in closer but she's already on the run, having caught a whiff of my scent. I bolt after her, sure that I can chase her down, even if I have to corner her down an alley way. I hate going into the town if I don't have to but I'm hungry tonight so I'm willing to risk it. She reaches the outskirts of town and races in between the buildings but I'm still hot on her heels, saliva pouring out my mouth as my tail whisks behind me like a rutter. When she races through a doorway, I don't think twice about it. I'm usually good about not entering houses and such but tonight I'm distracted by my rumbling stomach. I've gone too long without a good meal. Before I know it, I'm standing in the middle of what looks like a bar. At least that would be my guess. It stinks of liquor and mostly men are here, all staring at the filthy coyote that just raced through the door after a cat, a coyote with bright glowing blue eyes. I glance around, my hackles already rising in warning. I've never liked humans. They hunt us and shoot at us and sick their dogs on us. They look at us like we're filthy vermin when they're the pigs that throw out what they could eat. They waste food and make messes everywhere they go. They kick the wildlife out of their homes to build big ugly buildings to live in, nothing more than a glorified cardboard box. They disgust me, and now I'm surrounded by them. My lips curl back as my tail tucks, a growl rising in my throat in warning. But then I see the cat practically grinning at me from beneath the chair of a man at the bar. I don't think twice, the growl turning to a snarl as I launch myself at the cat, my shoulders connecting with the legs of the chair, sure to topple it and the gentleman sitting in it. I don't hesitate to see what happens to him next, my tail whisking behind me as the cat takes off out the back door and I'm right on her heels. |