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
It was a fact that the jackal boy with locks of brandished gold was considering joining Frost's pack. It had been far too long since the earthen eyed boy had been a part of one. Of course, the other half of the deal was that Frost needed considering him joining as well. If it would be a good match only time would tell. Marcelo could offer him thievery and deals he has yet to make good on, things owed to him by immortal beings. Frost could offer Marcelo a pack, a sense ofâ€"family if you will. He wonders too if he could extend the wealth of the pack to a blonde, silver eyed fae he had not met too long ago who was too innocent for her own good. And while Marcelo could not die, he didn't know how well his protection could hold up and he certainly didn't want anything happening to the little fairy, he felt he had grown quite attached, finding her company...entertaining if anything else.
That repressed eyeroll, it was slowly becoming her signature trademark. But, despite her clear mild annoyance with him, she has decided to dance with him anyway and that was a win for the jackal. They move across the floor effortlessly, it was not about seduction or tempting, it was all about the movements as eyes became focused on them. She was talented, there was no denying, and so was he, of course, Marcelo has had quite some time now to develop his craft. Dancing for him was as smooth and as natural as walking. He had found in lifetime, while the steps may have changed, the movements and intentions behind dance had not.
She spins a final time from his arms, a proper goodbye if you will. Those lips release from the back of her hand as he straightens from the slight bow he had fallen into. "Well, Nadya, you make sure your mate, or future mate, takes you out dancing, you are far too talented not to show off," he says with a wink before turning his attention to the woman Nadya directs him to. "Lola," he drawls her name, that voice changing from a proper gentleman into a more casual playboy bent on getting something more than a dance tonight. It would seem such attire was strictly reserved for the dark haired girl with practically wings on her feet this evening. He already knew the rest would not even compare. A girl like that was much too great to ruin with a one night stand.
He takes Lola's hand within his own just as Nadya moves past him and those dark eyes follow where she is going, and who she is following. "Excuse me," Marcelo says to the girl before trailing behind her, wondering what possibly she could be getting up to. Quickly, he follows her out of the building, taking a moment to look around before he spots her. She seems to be sneaking around, but those brown eyes quickly realize why. A hunter. Though, this hunter did not seem to be stalking Nadya, but someone else entirely.
Those eyes shine golden for a moment with a ferocity as he spots the second hunter, just in time as he grabs Nadya from behind. The boy with locks akin to brandished gold can smell the blood than that rushes to the tops of her skin and he is off in an instant, but it would seem as if Nadya already had it covered, man reeling backwards in agony from whatever she had provided him with. Marcelo having been around enough supernaturals to recognize an ability when he saw one.
Focus shifts to the other hunter, now rushing back to the two weres in hot pursuit. He races forwards with a surprisingly amount of both speed and strength and launches himself at the hunter, planting fists wherever he possible can. Marcelo manages to work his way around the hunter after struggling for several minutes. He catches his neck, closing off that precious airway. Meanwhile, the hunter maneuvered that knife behind him until he managed to stick it in just the right spot, right into Marcelo's heart. A gasp, but he manages to hold onto the hunter until he collapses due to lack of oxygen. He wasn't dead, but he certainly was not conscious any longer Marcelo releases him, the knife still in his heart as those brown eyes find Nadya's own. "Well now," he says grinning and pulling the knife from his chest, covered in his blood as he continues to bleed, the red liquid slithering down his front and soaking his shirt. "That was fun."