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

the house is awake with shadows & monsters


Posted on October 17, 2016 by AIDEN TETRADORE
West
aiden tetradore

The were King leaned casually against the gangplank that led to the interior of the Ark, his emerald eyes casually following those souls that made their way up the bridge and towards the interior of the boat. His head nodded ever so slightly to those individuals that recognized him, acknowledging their patronage all the while waiting impatiently for the young fae girl whom should have made it to the Ark some time ago. A small frown traced the man's lips, followed nearly immediately by the softest of sighs. Where had she gone? He glanced down to the watch on his wrist, shifting once again against the ropes of the gangplank. His gaze surveyed the docks in silence, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly at the sounds drifting to him on the wind. He could have sworn he'd heard his name - his first name. He stepped away from the boat ever so slightly, wandering further down the dock only for him to pause once again. No, he'd definitely heard his name, the sound was getting entirely closer. He could count on one hand the number of people who were aware at all of the syllables that made up and the notion that any such females were calling for him was certainly a point of concern.

He pulled his shirt from his form, tossing it haphazardly back towards his own guard on the dock, followed immediately by his pants and undergarments. That shift so overcame the man's caramel skin, contorting muscle and ligament and snapping at bones until the form of the man was replaced by that large ebony figure. His stretched out his body, shaking off that black fur before trotting forward on large paws. Tetradore's nose tilted upwards, sniffing at the air for any distinctive scent that might provide him any knowledge on the situation at hand, his entire form shifting direct once he finally caught the scent of the fairy. Samantha. His ebony form cut through alleyways and around the shipment containers, taking the most effective route possible to that scent that so wafered on the evening zephyr. His own pacing slowed ever so slightly at the sight of the girl's form, the sheer sound of that icy baritone voice that accompanied her saw his skin raise upon his spine. Tetradore knew that voice, without even having to turn the corner, he knew who it was that stood in front of her.

His mouth parted, pulling back to reveal those ivory canines as he stepped behind the young, terrified fae. He could feel the fear rolling off of her in waves and yet there was not a single drop of that scent of crimson blood. She was scared but entirely well. Regardless of her physical state of wellbeing, a low growl reverberated within Tetradore's throat, it was a sound of quite clear warning. Frost was on his turf, with his girl and this time, there was no little fox to interrupt the were King any longer and it was with this in mind that so saw the man press forward, that acidic saliva so forming at his mouth in sheer preparation of the assault he fully intended to see through. He was far more prepared to take on the equine then he had before and this time, Tetradore was certain to not fail. Each footfall carried the predator closer and closer towards the man in front of him, trying to push him back away from the fae Queen before he saw fit to so engage the man. Despite his marked distaste for the icelandic fellow, despite that hatred and anger and irritation, Tetradore made every point to ensure Samantha would not the collateral damage that Frost had so intended to make her be. No - this time, it would be just them.

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