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.
Cull & Pistol
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.
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.
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
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
He couldn't help his reaction to the strong whiff of her blood, though her own reaction when she saw him wrinkle his nose was pure entertainment. He watched as she tried to be sneaky about sniffing her hoodie and he chuckled. "I didn't mean to offend you. It's not your physical smell, I assure you. Something far more than skin deep is the cause." He was hinting at her blood but he had a feeling if she had no idea what she could do with the wind then she might not even know what she is. That alone made her fascinating. Did she have amnesia or something? He was curious enough to find out. He wanted to fish vaguely and see just how much she knew before he gave her the goods of knowledge. Besides, he would always work to find a selfish benefit in this for him so why not have a witch at his disposal? She could well come in handy against New Eden or anything else. She seemed awfully thoughtful when he chuckled, as if trying to decide if she liked the noise or not.
She was right to be suspicious of him, if that's what she was trying to decide. He was usually only out for himself and there were rare few who he chose to actually care about. If one ever did happen to get into that small handful of people then they could consider themselves beyond lucky for he would do anything to protect those he claimed as his. He was fiercely protective. He couldn't stand his own brother but because he was family, Damon would always willingly put himself in danger to save Stefan. It was just who he was, deep deep on the inside, unknown to most who encounter him. He knew the witch before him could be a force to be reckoned with if she was taught of her own power. If he were the one to teach her then it should give him an advantage to wield said power, no matter how indirectly through her. Maybe she also got to him on a more personal level if only because she showed some of that same innocence that had drawn him to Isolt.
She seemed surprised that he would chose to call her intriguing, as if no one had ever thought to compliment her in such a way before. So she also lacked arrogance, another endearing trait that annoyingly pulled at his protective strings. It was obvious in that subtle lift of her brow that she didn't find anything about herself intriguing. She would learn soon enough just how much mystery she had to offer the world. As he pondered her plead for the man's life at his feet, he could sense her holding her breath for the answer and his own brow rose in amusement. She really was a little hero in diguise, wasn't she? She didn't know nor like the man but she still valued his life. Such a human quality, rarer still in her own species. He often felt witches equalled even his own species for their lack of care for human life. They were often just puppets for most witches and warlocks.
At his request for her to tag along, she let out her breath almost in a gasp, like she had not been expecting that at all. He could see her skepticism but he was playing on her concern for the man's wellbeing. If she wanted to ensure he lived through tonight, her best bet was to come along. He had a feeling she would put that assurance before even her own safety, based on the reactions he had been seeing thusfar. Again she moved ever closer to him and he already knew her answer, his lips quirking as she said that she didn't have any other plans. He nodded in a matter of fact way. "Good. You do now." When he mentioned that she may have met other vampires and never knew it, she said that he was the first and last. He chuckled, his brow raising in his own show of skepticism as he shook his head. "Whatever you say, princess. You'll find that task a little harder than you might believe in a town like Sacrosanct." He waited for that little hint to sink in, that maybe the world wasn't all black and white and mostly humans with just a small handful of supernatural beings. Oh no, the world was much bigger than she could ever imagine and she was in the heart of supernatural country.
As he reached out to shake her hand, he was surprised at her own willingness to take it, and even more impressed by the way she tried to put all her strength into the motion, as if trying to equal his own. It was laughable really, but then he was holding back most of his own strength for fear of breaking every bone in her hand. None the less, he appreciated the effort, if only for the great amusement it brought him. He gave his name, insisting that she might end up calling him less favorable names by the end of the night. She gave a response right back, saying she would see how long she could go without doing such a thing and he smirked in response, a lazy lopsided smirk that made his eyes twinkle that much more dangerously. "So we shall." He agreed. With that, he turned to the man on the ground, easily lifting his limp form and throwing it over his shoulder before strolling further into the west end of town, toward the warehouses. He could sense her hesitation behind him but he continued walking, playing off his own assurance that she valued the man's life too much to risk leaving him unsupervised.
It seemed he still had his intuition, for next thing he knew, she was yelling for him to wait as she jogged to catch up to him. He grinned but kept walking, albeit a little slower so she could catch up. He turned his head just enough to watch her in his peripheral vision as she got into stride beside him. At her questions, he smirked teasingly. "All good questions. The answers will be, too, when you get them." He gave her a playful wink before turning into the darker parts of the warehouse district. From here, it was just a short walk to his destination. The tin seemed to be peeling off the roof of the metal building he headed toward. He walked right past the front door that seemed to hang off its hinges, instead heading down the side of the building and turning into a hidden alcove that turned into a downward staircase. The staircase led to to a heavy metal door that seemed to be barred from the other side but he didn't hesitate, placing his hand on the door as he dropped his voice. "Venit lumen verum quaerimus ac tenebras." The latin fell smoothly from his lips and there was an audible click as the door slowly swung open.
Seemingly satisfied, he walked into the room, the lights automatically reacting to his power as he marched over to what looked like a jail cell, complete with a sliding bar door. He walked in without hesitation, plopping the man on the ground and leaning his back against the wall. He quickly hooked the handcuffs around the man's wrists that hung from the wall, saying another short encantation that made an audible spark on the metal cuffs before he turned and made his way out of the cell, though he kept the door open. He nudged his head toward a wooden table with chairs nearby. "Feel free to take a seat. He's about to wake up. Then the real fun begins." He pulled a chair out for himself, turning it so the back faced the man. Lowering himself onto it, he leaned over the back with his elbows and flicked his fingers. The cuffs sparked again and the man bolted awake with a jerk, a yelp of pain and shock leaving his lips as he took a moment to take in where he was, fear making his eyes widen like saucers before they found Damon. Then they narrowed into slits, anguish making his lips twitch into a sneer. Damon smirked. "Good, you're awake. Now...let's talk."