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.
Bartender Raylin Chike
Resting upon the harbor, Noah's Ark appears to be little more than an abandoned cargo ship. 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
She blinked repeatedly, trying to get her eyes to adjust in the pitch black darkness. Maybe she should have brought a flashlight, but then she wanted to have some kind of element of surprise, even if technically he would know already that she was coming. But then she really just needed her eyes to adjust in the darkness so she wouldn't need a light to see whose ass she was kicking. She kept hoping against hope that the letter was just a bluff, that Kohl really wasn't here and she was just walking into a trap. She would rather have it that way, cause then it meant that Viktor never got his slimy hands on the one thing that could destroy her. This was why she'd told herself never to get attached, never to have feelings. This was why she'd been cursed to be alone the rest of her life. And Kohl had ruined that for her. With his sexy smirk and his genius brain and his, just, everything. He'd wriggled right through her defenses and sabotaged her from the beginning. And now he was paying the price. Or at least, that's what Viktor wanted her to believe. She tried not to make a noise, slowly slipping past the cardboard box and into the darkness. A part of her welcomed it but then she wouldn't put it past Viktor to have gotten his crew UV glasses or something so they could see her but she couldn't see them. Wouldn't that be her luck?
She held one hand out, touching the wall, about to follow it down and see what she found, but then a solitary light switched on in the back of the warehouse. Dammit. She knew a set up when she saw one. They knew she was here. And yet just like the curious cat, she couldn't help but slink closer and closer to the light. She squinted her eyes, her heart already racing in her throat. She was praying in her mind for the room to be empty or full of Viktor's crones, anything but the thing she was dreading. And as she got closer to the doorway, her breath caught in her throat cause it was exactly what she was dreading. Kohl was tied to a pole in the middle of the room. She thought she saw dried blood on the side of his face, like he'd been hit in the head or something. She felt white hot rage tingling in her arms and legs. Her hands tightened into fists her sides. They'd hurt him. Her lips parted, her eyes widening as she took him in. Otherwise, he looked pretty okay, but his eyes were closed at first. She almost thought he was dead. Oh god, please, don't let him be dead. She knew she should stop and take in her surroundings. Viktor or his crones would be in here, just waiting for her to make the wrong move.
And yet she felt her feet still moving, dragging her closer and closer to his side. She stopped in front of him and slowly crouched down, her hand reaching out of its own accord, her palm resting lightly on his cheek. "Kohl..." She whispered his name, taking hope from the warmth of the skin beneath her hand. Oh, but how she'd missed his touch. But her eyes grew sad, cause now she might have to say good bye to him, and she hated it the first time. She knew one way or another, someone was leaving here dead tonight. She didn't want Kohl here for this. "Why did you come back?" Her voice was heartbreaking, pleading even. She hated that he'd come back. He would have been safe if he'd just stayed away from all this, if he'd just forgotten about her and moved on. A tear ran down her cheek as she watched his face, memorizing it as if for the first and last time. "What a beautiful moment." The voice of a snake ruined it all. Kat's eyes narrowed and she sniffled, wiping the tear away absently as she stood and turned to face the voice. She automatically put herself between Kohl and Viktor, as if it could protect him. She knew at this point, the only thing protecting him would be getting the hell out of here. Which was precisely why as she was cradling his face, her other hand had been slipping a dagger behind his back, just within reach of his tied hands.
She was hoping he'd wait for the right moment and untie himself then run like hell. He needed to leave this all behind, leave her behind. She concentrated all her hate on the man who stepped into the light next. A scar ran from his forehead all the way across his eye and down his crooked nose, making him what surely must be the most hideous man in all of Russia. And yet Viktor always thought himself quite refined. He said his scars gave him character and women loved an adventure. Though she knew for a fact he was more a rapist than a lover. She'd seen as much when she was under his care but too blinded by her love for him as a father figure to really admit it. Now she could see the emptiness of his eyes even as he grinned at her and Kohl. He held out his arms. "You see boys, what we have here is a sweet, sweet reunion of two lost lovers. And to think, we played a part in making such a romantic rendevousz happen." A few of the men still in the shadows chuckled and Kat felt her hands twitch, wanting to go for her daggers but knowing she wouldn't get one in her hands without being shot dead. She knew Viktor enough to know he never showed himself unless he had at least three snipers with a head shot on the target. Which in this case, would be her.
"Fine, you found me. Happy now? He's not a part of this. Let him go." She tried to sound confident and demanding but she could hear the weak plea in her own voice even as she said the last words and she hated herself for it. She saw Viktor's eyes narrow and knew he hated it too. He took a threatening step toward her. "And here, I thought I'd beat all the weakness out of you. Yet here you stand, quivering. Do you beg on your knees as well?" He lifted a brow, apparently quite amused by himself. Kat clenched her jaw and straightened her spine, unwilling to surrender to his taunting. "You have what you want, Viktor. He has nothing to do with this." She spoke slowly and carefully, gritting her teeth through every word. Viktor chuckled this time, eying Kohl as if for the first time. "Oh, he had everything to do with this, Katarina. I trained you to be a weapon, free of vulnerability, deadly. That weapon would not think twice of that letter I sent. That weapon would not have come, especially not for THIS." He waved his hand toward Kohl as if he was nothing but a fleck of dirt on the bottom of his shoe. When he said the word "this," It was like he was about to spit. His eyes flashed with disgust.