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 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
There are monsters outside & they're waitin
there are vultures in line salivatin
though it is dark in the dead of night
I never go down without a fight
His entrancing emerald irises watched with an almost softened gaze as Mira moved fluidly behind the polished bar top. Each step caused her hips to sway in an almost tantalizing manner that Tetradore rarely allowed himself to truly appreciate. It was a basal instinct that so afflicted him as he leaned against the wooden veneer, that possessiveness within the Alpha over all that was his and, tonight, that too included her. Her name was a murmur upon his lips and yet the sound of his baritone lyrics effortlessly tugged at her attention. He hardly missed that altogether perplexed look upon her features as she turned to face him - though it quickly vanished with recognition into an almost coy smirk. How that very look could coax within the stoic man a glimpse of a grin upon his lips! He watched as she moved closer towards the bar, her voice altogether mischievous as she teased him for the liquor concoctions that had lately occupied her so intensely. A soft chuckle left Tetradore's lips as his head shook ever so slightly. "Ehhh...I'm not sure they're that good yet." He teased, his eyebrow-raising almost challenging only for his emerald irises to shift almost guiltily, "Although that one that tasted like a peanut butter cup was pretty good." Those fruity cocktails and mixed liquors weren't often Tetradore's cup of tea, admittedly, the man tending to gravitate towards hard liquors and yet, he had indulged the woman in each of her creations. For the moment, he brushed away that offer for booze, however, the Were-King's own admittance that he required her for something else kept perfectly vague.
Tetradore was all but attentive to the manner in which Mira seemed intrigued by his proposition, the young woman leaning against the corner in a fashion that so accentuated her cleavage. It was altogether natural, the way his emerald eyes were drawn downward, particularly when he knew the intimate details of her physique and what rested beneath her tight fitted clothing. The Alpha's gaze drew back upwards at the sound of her feminine voice, that raised brow indicating some level of suspicion and yet, Mira seemed to accept that change to her daily routine with relative ease. It was clear the woman anticipated some desire to repeat the last evening he'd taken her away from the Ark, her comment of shoes prompting his own brows to raise. "Ass-kicking shoes, huh?" He inquired, almost inquisitive of what those looked like. The Were-King hardly giving away even the slightest indication of what his plans for the evening held. Rather, the only hint he provided the young woman was the presence of a black gift bag, the object placed upon the counter as he slid it across the varnished wood towards her. It was clear that the package had been prepared by someone else, each piece of tissue paper fanned out with far more dexterity than Tetradore would have ever given to a present. He was well aware of the astonishment upon her features at the sight of it, her gaze shift from the bag towards him and back again. It was, admittedly, the first tangible thing he'd ever given her to express his own interests within her, their teasing dance thus far had been nothing more than discreet.
The Alpha watched as she plucked at the tissue paper on top, her hand reaching into its depths to feel around the contents only to pull from it the leather jacket he'd purchased - one that clearly took some level of inspiration from the one he currently wore, although her's was far more feminine in every manner of the word. He watched as that excitement spread across the young woman's features, her voice betraying that glee as she reached into the arm, pulling it onto her shoulders. "I'm aware," Tetradore responded simply - he had eyed that worn-in leather jacket one evening after he'd all but fallen into her bed. The padding in it was practically nonexistent. It had been a fashion jacket - nothing truly meant for riding. He watched as she zipped up the jacket, the leather smoothly conforming to her petite figure, accenting her every curve with its almost tight hugging of her frame. Tetradore remained silent as she ran her fingers over the leather, admiring it upon herself before her gaze shifted upwards to meet his emerald eyes. A small grin settled upon his features as she insisted that he had 'good taste'. Frankly, Tetradore wasn't sure if that was true. He knew what he liked and in turn, he purchased only such items or allowed others to make such fashion-related decisions for him. Still, even he could not deny that it did look good on her. "Of course." He offered her simply, the girl's gratitude all but palpable in the way she seemed to perk up. His hands fit within the pockets of his own leather jacket as he watched her grab the gift bag, finishing up those few tasks behind the bar before she slid out and to Tetradore's side.
Tetradore was well aware of the way in which her slender figure brushed up against him and yet, his hands remained nestled within his pockets. The Alpha had never been one, admittedly, for public displays of affection, just as he too knew the dangers of getting too close to any particular soul. He could hardly deny that he enjoyed the time he spent with her, much less that he might actually hold some measure of attraction for her slender physique. Even so, he was hardly ready to admit what that meant, much less act on it beyond those evenings he stole from her. His thoughts quickly refocused from those darkened paths, however, by the voice of the young woman at his side and slowly, his head bobbed. "It does." He responded with a ghost of a simper before gesturing towards one of the many hallways that lead away from the Ark's main hull. "Come on." He led her down the hallways of the Ark, pausing at the kitchen to grab a bag that was already made and waiting for them. Tetradore hardly offered any sort of explanation to its presence, the man simply continuing his path back towards the garage he'd left only an hour before. It was only once they were outside the doors of that makeshift showroom that the man paused, his emerald eyes quickly focusing upon Mira herself. "Close your eyes." He demanded, altogether aware of the immediately skeptical look that she gave him. "Come on, close your eyes." The Alpha insisted, that rare glimpse of a grin once more dancing across his equally as rare lighthearted features. "Promise me you won't open them until I tell you, okay?" He commented, eying her suspiciously before the man finally reached for her hand.
He led her with distinct care into the depths of his own domain, that garage a place he knew no one beyond himself and Tobias ventured into. Carefully, Tetradore positioned the young woman in front of those two motorcycles, only to move around her, his hand gingerly releasing her only to brush along her waist as he stepped behind her, drawing her into his chest. It was that simple knowledge that they were alone that prompted those more intimate touches of affection from him, his free hand reaching into his jacket pocket to fetch those keys and his lips pressed tenderly against the slope of her neck, tracing a trail up towards her ear. His fingers pressed the small key ring into the palm of her hand as he whispered, his breath altogether warm against her ear. "You can open now."