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
I'm Loosing My Soul
Pushing me to the edge of my decline
It was peculiar to find Syn in a state of war. It had been...well, at least a decade since his mistress' enemies had dared to attack upon her ground. After all, here, she surely had the upper hand between the loyalty of her terrified coven and easily controlled army of felines. He had, admittedly, been ignorant that Risque had even irked any of her adversaries of late. Tetradore had taken an increasingly large amount of disinterest within Risque's affairs ever since his own freedom several years prior. Perhaps it was feline curiosity or an instinctual desire to find someplace high that had provoked the Alpha's decision to investigate the roof and see for himself this apparent war that his mistress had brought upon herself. Tetradore had no sooner stepped out into the welcoming embrace of a particularly cool breeze when he was greeted by the clearly agitated figure of Darcy and a myriad of sharpshooters. Great - now even less would be expected of him if the cowboy intended to take out the entire lot with bullets. It might even put the usually irritable vampire in a good mood for once. The Alpha wandered towards the edge of the building, only to peer down below at the ranks of both vampire and were that surrounded them like a fucking sea. How...lovely.
A soft sigh reverberated upon the Alpha's lips as he inquired what Risque had done this time to provoke such outrage. The snort from the Southerner beside him told him all he needed to know of his opinion - even as the cowboy informed him of the canine Risque had apparently taken. A canine? Why on earth would she want something like that? His brows furrowed in contemplation though the were-panther was hardly given a chance to respond before the voice of his mistress cut through the evening air. The emerald of Tetradore's gaze turned towards her, only for a brow to rise at the very sight of the leather that adorned her feminine figure. How the jumpsuit clung to her flesh, the very likes of which made him almost wonder how she could even move within it. His gaze trailed briefly down the low 'v' cut upon the front that only just showed the voluptuous curves of her breasts, stopping just above her navel. The rest of her physique was...oddly covered in that near liquid leather - such a thing unusual for his mistress who so often liked to flaunt her feminine physique...and how very much of it Tetradore had seen over the years. There were a number of knives strapped delicately to her thighs, her signature silver whip glinting dangerously in the low light of the moon though it was the sword within her hand that drew the majority of his attention. Tetradore could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen her pick up that. He said little of his observations, however, his emerald eyes merely rolled at the lover's spat as his gaze turned away from them and back to the throngs that surrounded the dance club.
His irises fluttered back towards Darcy only at the sound of the man's Southern drawl, those options only briefly eyed before Risque made the decision for him. A soft grunt left his lips at her words though if she was attempting to insult him, her lyrics fell decidedly flat. After all, even Tetradore knew he had never been the best marksman. His feline was far more...deadly than he could ever claim to be with a gun. The Alpha stepped away from the edge of the building, only to wander towards the door that led downstairs. He reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head only to deposit it beside the door. His jeans, shoes, socks, and undergarments soon followed suit till Tetradore had left a heap of clothing in his wake. His caramel skin shivered slightly at the nippy air, though he hardly bothered to warm himself so much as the man simply called to his inner feline as he dropped to his knees. In mere moments his flesh had been replaced by ebony fur, his ears swiveled upon his head at the very sound of the baying hounds somewhere below him. He hardly seemed hurried by their existence, however, as the jungle cat stretched out his lanky physique. His jaws parted with a yawn, only for his feet to slowly pad back towards the edge he had left. Tetradore hardly bothered to engage in the fight below, viewing it as hardly worth his time when Risque had yet to force it upon him. Rather, he settled upon his haunches beside her, simply surveying the fight as if it were little more than entertainment for him alone.
He watched with notable disinterest as the lions and tigers below clashed with some of the largest dogs he had ever seen. They were, admittedly, more akin to bears then actual dogs and yet their barking assured him exactly of what they were. Tetradore could feel Risque's power from where she stood at his side, the felines beneath him shifting into some sort of battle formation at their mistress' command. How easily they tore through the youthful vampires that made the first wave of this attacking coven - not that destroying the newly turned truly took much effort at all. He was aware of the flash of silver that whizzed through the air, though even it was not enough to prompt the Were-King to move. Frankly, he had begun to consider feigning as if he was going to nobelly fight in her way, only to sneak off to the habitats downstairs and sleep through a clearly pointless kerfuffle. He was hardly paying enough attention to notice the elder vampire that had made its way towards the front lines - at least, not until a hiss left his mistress' lips. The vibrancy of his gaze followed her finger as she picked the assassin out from the crowd - only to demand he stop it. As if one murdered tiger was somehow worth his involvement. His gaze narrowed, though the Alpha was inclined to recline within his position for several moments longer before he slowly shifted to his feet. Was this really necessary?
A soft huff left the feline's parted lips as he called to his own affinities. Those shadows were quick to embrace him, enveloping the inky black feline only to deposit him on the asphalt in the midst of the waves of carnage and war in the parking lot of Syn. Easily, Tetradore ducked under the reaching arms of one of the youngling vampires, his paws moving swiftly and silently upon the ground as he leapt up the physique of another vampire, his claws leaving red imprints within the man's back as the vampire screamed in retaliation. He was hardly of importance to Tetradore, however, as the feline jumped off of the shoulders of the second vampire, his trajectory purposefully meant for the vampire that Risque had singled out. This man, however, was hardly as green as the others. He seemed to sense the change within the air, the vampire turning with a hiss upon his lips to meet the were-panther in a collision that knocked the very air from Tetradore's lungs. His jaws parted, immediately seeking purchase upon anything he could grab. His teeth bit down upon the vampire's shoulder - prompting a shout from the assassin before the Were-cat was nearly tossed off, the vampire strength difficult for the were-kind to contend with. Tetradore landed lightly upon the ground as a growl echoed within the pack of his throat. It was his first affinity he called to - his salvia turned acidic within his mouth, dripping from his parted jaws with a sizzling hiss as it fell on the concrete. The Were-King lunged forward, hardly willing to let his prey go and yet, this time, the vampire was ready.