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

that girl is a goddamn problem


Posted on June 14, 2016 by ASKAREE
West

Askaree Bint Bahar


She never had been able to rightly comprehend the rickety pyramid of the typical Were pack and the seemingly-arbitrary placement of all the individual members in their cozy niches. Lesser still did she comprehend the placement of the Alpha atop this edifice for, in the realm of her particular reptilian species, size and brute strength had been and always would be the only factors that would qualify one to rest atop the not-so-proverbial food chain. Which seemed to beg the question... how did "My Little Brony" ever ascend to such a status? There could be only one viable explanation: clearly Beiber-fever was far more epidemic than she had feared. The notion itself nearly drew a swell of bile to sear at the fleshy backing of her throat, ebbed only minutely by the bustling of the crowd that swiveled and squirmed about the cynical Egyptian wench.

Askaree merely gazed on as the simplistic dullards that scurried about the dilapidated cargo ship rushed to part with the arrival of a single man. Bronzed eyes swiveled lazily to the source of the commotion, her demeanor as apathetically uninviting as it nearly always was, to fall upon the dark-haired man who appeared no different than the other fuck-boys skulking about this rusted dinghy... the only facet of his entire aura proving even mildly intriguing was the manner in which the crowd around them parted to make way for his arrival. This dude was either reincarnated Moses or, dare she even dream it (!), King Puss himself. Of course she had heard tell of Tetradore and his clutch of kitties, for what manner of society would they be without the two rival Were-tribes pissing on each other's trees and what not in order to lay claim to territory that, truth be known, was not all that fucking special to begin with. Not that she wouldn't forfeit a few minutes of her time to watch Kitten King v. Male Elsa: Round Two. Really, who wouldn't get a serious kick out of that shit?

The smirk that draws its creases into her otherwise gossamer caramel skin is hardly the embodiment of glee that it might have otherwise been had it adorned the facade of just about any other individual. It fails to the cast the flickering diamonds of its gaiety into the darkly-alluring pools of her eyes. "The one and only," she quips with the slightest flourish of a single, falsely-delicate hand, sarcasm permeating from the gesture and the syllables that act as its companion. She does not query after his moniker, because who really had time to ask questions they already knew the answers to? Not Askaree, that was for damn certain.

Her simper is one that, interestingly enough, does not wilt with the admission that her "contact" had found himself incapacitated at the hands of what was essentially a reptilian pool-noodle; rather does a single, expertly-manicured brow quirk skyward at the revelation. Slowly does she gather the cases handle from her counterpart, the telekinetic abilities she had been gifted already at work rifling through the contents of said case. Hmmm, now that was interesting. Her chiseled facade hardly betraying what she had done or what she now knew, Askaree allowed her eyes to flicker to those of the would-be Captian. "As a matter of fact, I do. But I'll need to deliver it to him myself. I'm positive that it will... assist in his recovery." An admittedly gorgeous grin then melts against her plush lips, the impish joy of it this time flashing against the chocolate of her eyes.



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