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

I sold my soul to a three-piece


Posted on April 02, 2016 by Spencer Lombardo
West


Already choking on my pride, so there's no use crying about it



Who knew that Spencer's disregard for his companion was bothering her so much? She certainly didn't seem to show it, aside from the occasional threat. Still, that it might bother her was a strange thought considering Spencer had made no attempt to hide his discomfort around her. Then again, perhaps having someone constantly remind you that he's uncomfortable around you was more affecting than he had ever noticed. Really though, what were those thoughts when she was prepping herself for the ring.

Spencer couldn't help but feel some pity for the poor idiot in the ring with her. Did he even know what he was going up against? Was it even fair? No, it wasn't fair at all. Maybe that was why when he overheard the murmuring of the men nearby exchanging odds and money for the last standing, he quietly slipped them folded bills on her winning. It wasn't a fair fight but not for the reasons they believed. They may think he was throwing his money away, especially since he wasn't sure of her capabilities in the ring, but Spencer had a hunch. Besides, if it was a loss, he would still gain valuable insight that was worth the lighter wallet.

Observing the fight led Spencer to at least three conclusions. One, he would be eating his words. Two, she would never let him not eat his words after this. Three, he was completely justified (in his mind) of being wary around her. Four, she should probably disinfect that cut since he was pretty sure there was enough bacteria in this place to give her gangrene. It would be terrible for her best feature to melt off. Shame, it seemed tonight was the one night he wasn't armed with his vials and herbs to solve this problem. They were all tucked safely away in the trunk of his vehicle, which was back at Dorian's shop. He would have to recollect it before heading home, which hopefully wouldn't be too much longer. Was he not accomplishing what she wanted? They went out, he had a drink, she got her fight. Surely she wouldn't want to stay around with him that much longer?

As she stood over her opponent, Spencer couldn't help but smirk a little. While the crowd around him roared and snarled and cheered, he simply held out his palm for the winnings he was owed to the bookie. Once the money was tucked in Spencer's pocket, he stepped over the ring barrier to drape her jacket over her shoulders (it was easier than trying to figure out what was the front of her shirt). "Congratulations. I admit, you're better than I thought." His hands were on her shoulders as he leaned in slightly to be heard over the still rambunctious crowd. The touch was brief though, Spencer's hands disappearing into his pockets as he stepped over the wheezing slump on the ground. His intention at this point was to put more distance between him and the crowd as it was quickly becoming too rambunctious. Or worse, they assumed he was going to take part in the ring. He had just got done telling her he wasn't interested, which is slightly ironic considering when he was younger it seemed Spencer couldn't stay out of fights.

"I assume next is a customary victory drink?" He commented, unfamiliar with how Askaree celebrated her victories but assuming it was much like everyone else - alcoholic. Perhaps he was wrong but it did seem they had been at the bar for a bit now and between the two of them had been only one drink. No, it wasn't even a drink. It was a shot. Of course, this wasn't really a bar. More like a weird club.



single | warlock | notes:





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