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

In one hand she held a crescent-moon blade


Posted on March 29, 2017 by Karou
West

Like a tiger into the dark of the jungle leaves, so Karou sinks like oil into the black corner of the bar. There are no eyes that find her here â€" or if they do, they drift over the shadowed girl, unremarkably adorned in darkness as she is.

The music, so loud and consuming, pounds its beats out, out through her chest. Each electric thump is as heavy as the tribal drums that her heart still beats to. Tribal drums were the first strokes her heart had ever thrummed to and like the body craves water, so Karou's heart craves the wild of beat of animal skin drums and dust bowl dances.

But here, oh here with the electric sounds and the sticky flow of pungent alcohol, the gazelle girl is so far from her star-strewn desert. She dashes the lamenting memories from her mind, from the pining beat of her heart, and instead turns her black, black eyes upon her quarry.

The vampire is a rabbit to Karou's tiger gaze. She is unwavering in her pursuit and fierce as she stalks him, seeing this chase through to the kill as silently and skilled as any big cat might.

Oblivious, the monster presses in to the bar, ordering a drink, a golden thing rich and lustrous, even in the chaos of the roving lights. In silence, as quiet and unremarkable as a gazelle stepping from the fold of its brethren, Karou slips from the dark of her hide. She finds a seat opposite her quarry. The cool of the bar top stings her skin and she wonders when she began to feel this heat - so like flames beneath her skin...

In nearly every way Vhalla is opposite to Karou. They are different in every way but for the blood that stains their hands; their lists of bloody victories that mar their souls. Vhalla is starlight to Karou's endless night; she is snowy skin to the richness of desert sands. Karou's eyes are the mahogany of the darkest bark and Vhalla's the crystal blue of depthless seas.

The girl, the nameless creature beside her of silver snow and electric blue, takes a drink as a boy moves for her purse. Time has barely a second to draw its breath, barely a second to let the boy think of escape, before Karou has a blade to his throat and her hand upon Vhalla's purse. "Leave it." She hums as lowly and ominously as music drifting in the shadows.

She feels the bite of deja vous, the press of her hungry blade to another boy's skin and its enough to make her soul weep and her heart tremble, tremble.

Monster, monster.

The bar stirs, bodies shifting like a wave of chaos has crashed upon them. Karou blinks, only then registering the chaos that begins to ensue, the frantic grappling to escape a girl with a knife and the frightened boy at her mercy. A trickle of blood trails a silent, silent path down his throat and his eyes flutter shut, knowing, oh so knowing.

Yet he knows so little.

Quietly Karou retreats, the relinquished purse in her hands as she slaps it on the bar beside the stranger-silver girl. Dark, predatory eyes flit for her initial quarry, but he is gone. As is the thief and, with little preamble, the gazelle girl turns, her tiger heart beating for the ensuing hunt. "Careful with your purse." She says softly as she makes for the door, her rabbit gone, her hunt still young.

((please feel free to follow her!))

karou varela
in one hand she held a crescent-moon blade*

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