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
His heart was racing. It was as if time had slowed, for everyone but them, the moment the Emerance turned to look him in the eye and speak so softly to him. If she was indeed a dream, his dream, Ben knew he didn't want to wake up. There was nothing in the real world for him that would measure up to this. "Perhaps this ole' noggin isn't as useless as they all say then..." He rambled with a wide grin across his prickly, oily face. "If I summoned you from it." He felt a warm flush rush to his cheeks in slight embarrassment. He never spoke this much, not out loud, at least. And maybe he wasn't speaking out loud anyway, if this was all just a dream. His dream. And if it were his dream, he should speak as much as he wants, right? Needless to say, Ben didn't know how to talk to attractive women. But this was his dream. And such, he skipped ahead, dancing wildly for a moment or two as he balanced on the white painted lines of the crosswalk, and let out a loud "Yaaaahoooo!" For a second, he extended his hand to Emerance, wanting to twirl her around in the street, but at the last second, he recoiled, fearful of the pain that was to come - for him and her - well, her, if she had in fact been a real living girl. But he didn't let his mishap get the best of him, and instead continued to skip ahead until they reached the concrete sidewalk on the other side of the intersection. Jet lag was beginning to weigh heavily on him now, adding an extra layer of confusion to what was real and what wasn't. His eyelids were becoming tougher to keep open. "I hope we find it soon, Em." He offered in exasperation. Next she was peppering him with questions and his brow furrowed. He felt overwhelmed. "They took my monies weeks ago." He offered. "I signed the paperwork." But he had no proof of any of that, not on him at least. Ben Collins | Fairy | Vinyl |