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

you could be the best of me, when i'm the worst for you


Posted on September 01, 2016 by Rixon Leifsson
West
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It is, perhaps, one of the few times in which the man remains utterly incapable of reading the dark-haired woman's mind. His powers here and now are far to sedated, what little reach of them he can achieve focused entirely on maintaining his will power and, in turn, his determination to remain both upright and alive. It is displeasing in some sense to so be forced to guess at her thoughts and yet the way in which the panther falters at the sight of him assures the man that she had hardly anticipated seeing him in this state. Some part of the man loath all the same to allow her to see him so....weak. Injury, sickness.....they were weaknesses, his very demeanour rebelling against it, that animal instinct within himself very near screaming at him to remain standing and yet for now at least he forces that need aside to allow himself even this momentary rest. The gruff tone that so presses upon his mind sees a snort forced from his lips, a spasm of pain accompanying such a gesture, features wincing slightly though that ghost of a simper flickers into place all the same.

"You will forgive me then- for having been a little.....preoccupied."

One hand lifts weakly to gesture at his bloodied state, the girls displeasure at him dismissed for now, Frost hardly caring to debate the state of waiting he had left her in. It had hardly been his intention to do as such, Frost assured such a thing could be explained later- the man seeing little need not to offer her that information should she desire it and yet for now he merely lays his head back against the steel behind him. Her assurance she would be right back merely sees the man nod, the very world seeming to...blur ever so slightly, as if each edge had lost its clarity. He allows the violet of his gaze to close momentarily, vaguely aware of Nadya moving away, the man holding some...trust that the girl would return though why he seemed to believe it he hardly knew. There were desperately few people the equine held any trust in at all, Nadya perhaps, having far more reason to merely leave him to die then actually assist him and yet for now it would seem it is a gamble he remains willing to take. How long the woman was truly gone for he hardly knew, one eye opening once more at her return- Frost noting her far more pleasing human appearance before her words seemed to settle upon him. For a moment or so the snowy-haired man merely frowns, the sheer loss of blood, perhaps, finally seeming to have a toll on the man- his mind for the first time decidedly sluggish in its efforts. The man slower to respond.

"My home is...further then I can walk right now....and my phone is out of power. I need to call Edie though, sooner....rather then....later. If I die I left everything....to her and if she....finds that out....she might report me dead. I wouldn't....put it....past her."

Any amusement he had taken in his own admittance is short-lived. Nadya seemingly determined to have him stand, the faintest of groans threatening to part his lips at the action of pulling himself upright once more, the man clenching his jaw if only to prevent such a sound. Some sense seeming to return to his mind at that flash of pain that so spikes within him, Frost oblivious entirely to his rambled sentence from moments ago. That he is forced to lean on the woman is distinctly displeasing to him, Frost having failed to rely on anyone for the better part of his existence. He....loathed to ask for help, let alone allow Nadya to see any side of him other than that carefully crafted image he so often presented to her. With Nadya, of all people, he was distinctly...careful about how she might see him- this hardly within his plan and yet he held little hope of reaching Edie today. The panther his only true choice for now. Her assurance that it was hardly far sees his gaze lift slightly once more to peer between that mop of bloodied white hair, eyeing the inn she seemed to be so determined to take him too. How she intended to convince the staff of such an establishment to allow him to sit in even the lobby he hardly knew- his question answered perhaps only moments later. He could feel the woman's affinity as it roared to life, the receptionist sent fleeing from the room as Nadya grasped the nearest set of keys. Frost capable of doing little else save for allowing himself to be led before the girl so seemed to demand he sit.

The softness of the mattress is an almost welcome relief to his utterly exhausted form. The walk over having done little more than encourage his wounds to bleed all over again. The room was little more than a coloured haze, what little of his gaze could be seen struggling to focus upon the walls before Nadya appeared once more. He is aware, vaguely, of the damp cloth pressed against his chest- the woman working to wipe away the blood and dirt that so decorated his chest like a violent art piece- the true depth of the laceration to his chest surely becoming apparent to the feline now- the wound running the entire length of it. That soft, almost gentle tone to her voice sees the man relax, if only slightly- her question once more taking several moments too long to for him to process.

"It was a...Hunter. I do not it seems....take orders well. We had a....disagreement as to how....obedient I would be. He....gave me....something its why I....can't heal....cant shift. He kept trying to sedate me- God I'm....tired."

It is the first true admittance of his own exhaustion he has made. Frost content to leave out several points to such a story including Raven's presence, for now, and the relation of Calliel to the Hunter whom had so taken it upon himself to attempt to end the stallion's existence. There was little need, he was assured, to so recount the details that the Hunter had somehow known about himself or the life he had lived before. Such information was for later when he cared to consider it. The man leans further back upon the bed now, the burns to his side irritated by even the sheets as Nadya's voice finds him once more, that ever so faint simper touching his lips again at her mention of requiring a new outfit.

"Blood...washes out Naja. Though you look....exquisite in red it...shows off your eyes."

He is not entirely aware of the words that have passed his lips in that moment- such a bold compliment near unheard of for the man, nor the fact that blood was surely not the sort of red she desired to look exquisite in- falling to have occurred to the stallion in his current state. His features frown, if only ever so slightly, the man seeming to contemplate his own words before casting his concern aside. Oblivious entirely to what he had said at all within those passing moments

Frostbite
HTML by Apollymi

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