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

:: When We Were Young Our Eyes Were Blue ::


Posted on June 18, 2014 by Tobias
West
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For a moment more he is half inclined to snicker at the silly dog that claws at the tree he has nestled himself within, lips pulled into a simper of sorts as the sound hisses from between his teeth, the easy pride all felines were radiating from within his lanky form as he reclines, holding no belief the dark haired girl will reach him as a satisfied purr rumbles within his human throat, the sound lacking the true tone of a feline and yet similar all the same as long fingers clutch the bills in his hand, a yelp of sorts emitted as her fingers catch at his leather attire, ear yanking him out of the tree, twisting to land upon his bare feet as she does, dark gaze meeting the green of her own as his lip twitches in discord, responding entirely to that more animalistic side of himself. Her body language is so easily perceived, so easily read, that which is unspoken far more easily understood then the words his mind is often berated with, each unfamiliar phrase pushing him further and further round the bend.

The money snatched back from his hand sees the boy blink momentarily in surprise at having lost his prize so easily, scowling towards the dark-haired women with ready scorn, teeth grating against each other as a rumbling growl catches his throat, head tilted to the side at the earth and rocks she kicks, failing to understand this gesture before she turns to walk away. It is one thing, perhaps, to attempt to engage him in some form of game, to steal the prize he has claimed as his own- yet it is another entirely for her to turn her back to him within his own territory. Has she not smelt his scent markers? Is she oblivious to the fact this is claimed territory? How dare she disrespect him within his own lands- how dare she take what he has claimed to be his own. He simply does not recognize her and as such the bond of siblings, even by halves, does not take him, that burn within his veins seeing little more then a gasp leave his form as muscle and bone and sinew shift and change, dark hair giving way to the gold and black of his feline form, the fleshy curtain of his lip lifted slightly in a cattish sneer as he lunges forward with the silent and fluid perfection of his leopard form.

His paws grace the ground for barely a moment, silent in their swift ascension as he leaps upward once more, seeking to pounce upon the girl in a single bound, his superior weight and size seeking to knock her into the dirt beneath him, to pin her there as a snarl hisses free of his imposing feline form, large teeth exposed as claws slide free of their sheaths to pierce at the earth beneath him as he moves to circle the girl now, searching for weakness- seeking to have her submit to him now, his dominant nature responding directly to her own, feeling such things grate against him as he pauses in his circling, muscle flexed beneath his sleek pelt as he steps forward again and again, seeking now to press her back towards the warehouse, to pin her against the wall, to have her body bow down to his own. The money, he has decided, is his, just as he likes to believe the west side is his (in his own mind), just as he will make this woman his possession. Without Tetradore to call him back, without Rsique to pull him into line- he is content to remain the domineering creature that he is. Just as he is content to have Jaidah acknowledge it, her scent teasing at his nose in these moments, seeing a momentary hesitation in his stride before he dismisses it, mind struggling to perceive where he knows such a scent, content to ignore as he continues to advance. She will bow to him- or he will make her.

Tobi
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