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
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
The Were-King strove with particular care to keep his relationship with the fiery wolf as strikingly different from the one near forced upon him with his own mistress. It was a blessing that the woman, in turn, was a stark contrast from the vampire he so abhorred. The pair were akin to night and day - aside from that singular word that so fell from her lips. The very sound of it caused his nose to twitch in blatant distaste. Tetradore was all too quick to correct her. His dismissal of that very nickname near absolute and yet, Mira hardly seemed daunted in her determination to find something suitable that was shorter than his surname. Why it was even necessary was all but lost upon him though he saw no reason to dissuade her from her quest, for now. Regardless, Tetradore's own emerald irises watched expectantly as Mira seemed to regard him with that lingering hint of suspicion. Thankfully, any further coaxing was hardly necessary as the girl allowed her long lashes to flutter closed, bathing her vision in but sweet darkness. His hand reached out for her own, the man nothing if not meticulously careful as he gradually led her into the depths of his own domain, ensuring she hardly even got near to any perceivable obstacle. He hardly left her to that darkness long, however, before pausing before those two awaiting motorcycles, the very sight of them together all but pleasing in itself. His fingers skimmed around her waist as the Alpha positioned himself behind her, pulling her petite figure flush against him - exactly where he was certain she belonged.
Ever since the first evening they'd spent upon that yacht, Tetradore had found himself increasingly seeking out those tender moments with the lava wolf. Those nights in which they spent wrapped within one another in the depths of his bed had become an increasing sanctuary within the turmoil of his own life. Frankly, it was a sort of intimacy he'd never expect himself to desire from another being. Tetradore hardly thought too much upon that care he clearly held for the woman, those titles failed to even cross his mind. For so long he'd strove to put up an impenetrable wall between himself and the world, to diminish any connection he held with any other being. It was for his safety - and theirs. Whatever existed between himself and Mira was only temporary. It was fleeting happiness that would somehow be stolen from him in the same way that everything else within his life had ever been. For today, however, Tetradore greedily relished in those moments they stole. His lips brushing against the tender slope of Mira's neck as his facial hair near tickled her skin. A small simper toyed at the corner of his features as her breath hitched. How accustomed to that sound he'd become, the man knowing near instantly the desires he could coax to life within her. It was almost a shame that it would have to be put off for later when the mere thought of it had already prompted the beginning of readiness within him. Nevertheless, his voice was a whisper in her ear as he pressed the keys to the new motorcycle into her palm.
His gentle coaxing was all that was necessary for her golden eyes to flutter open, the woman momentarily silent as she took in the sight of that bright red Ducati. Mira's declaration that his Kawasaki needed a friend, as if it somehow felt emotions, prompted a soft chuckle to his lips before Tetradore nodded in agreement.
The gesture towards those motorcycles, however, was all Mira seemed to require before she pulled herself from his grasp - the girl all but eager to feel the power of the motorcycle under her fingertips.
"Ready?" He inquired as he held his hand out to her, the girl clearly inspecting the controls of the bike with the knowing look of someone who had spent a great amount of time within the seat of one. Deftly, she kicked up the stand as she placed her keys in the ignition and for a moment, Tetradore didn't have the heart to inform her they weren't....quite going to ride just yet. It was the presence of his hand, however, that seemed to prompt some sort of understanding within the girl and firmly his head bobbed. The very touch of her palm caused his fingers to wrap around her own, his own gaze fluttering closed as Tetradore sought the very focus of his own affinity. This jump was going to be...exhausting, he already knew it beforehand, much less to bring someone else and two bikes. He'd spend weeks training that very gift for teleportation for this, Matteo nothing if not an...enthusiastic teacher.