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
(dear friend it will be alright, please just stay by my side)
(you might think the world is tumbling down, but it's not)
She feels pretty, with those pale golden tresses, like liquid gold, all done up nice and neat, a gentle smile on her face. The dress over her body she thinks is beautiful, and when she sees that smile that was innately a Tetra smile (it was not as wide as perhaps Lani's was, nor Matteo's) but a smile all the same. Maeve, in return, cannot help but offer a shy smile back to him in return. A hand reaches up into those golden locks and gently brushes against the lava rock that Mira has given her, and perhaps the wolf girl will never know just how much that means to the little girl. She sees his own emerald eyes looking at that same stone in her hair and she smiles widely then, he had noticed. "Mira gave it to me, isn't she great?" She says, stealing a violet eyed gaze back to where the wolf girl stands. It is when she says that she looks lovely that there appears a pretty little sparkle in her eyes. CLearly, that compliment probably meant more to Maeve than Tetradore would ever intend or know.
She leads the way through the ark, eagerly chatting away in that almost sing song voice of hers. Maeve knew there were things that happened here at night, but the pack had always ensured that Maeve was well away from the premise before anything actually started. She was too young to see such violence, she had an eternity for such things, but right now, she needed to be a child. For as long as possible. "Yeah,' she agrees, nodding her head eagerly. "I love their mac and cheese," she says, remembering the last time she had adventured there, trying the alcoholic beverage before quickly switching to a Shirley temple, appealing to her taste buds much more so.
Maeve follows his direction, trailing behind him, that sweet smile still brightening her fair face. The hallways were easy enough to move through, following close at heel to wherever he would take her. It may seem strange, but Maeve had never felt in danger at the Ark, even being such a small, little fae creature, among the large weres that could hurt her so easily, even without meaning to. She watches him grab a key from the shelf before staring at all the care laid out before her. Fancy cars were certainly never a luxury Maeve had enjoyed, her foster families typically far too lacking in that certain way to have earned anything remotely close to these vehicles. "Whoa," she says, violet eyes growing wide as she pauses just a moment in awe. "These are all yours?" She asks in surprise, clearly impressed. "This is so cool," she says as she practically leaps towards the car in excitement. He opens the door and Maeve quickly slides in, violet eyes shifting around her to take in the pure luxury she sits in. Another wow is ushered under her breath before watching Tetradore slide in on his own side.
Seatbelt. He says and Maeve quickly reaches behind her with a pale hand and presses that buckle into place firmly, eager to get onto the road. She closes her eyes for moment then as she listens to the car, enjoying the way it sounds as a small smile touches her lips like the tip of a paint brush. She steals a glance at Tetradore then, comfortable in the silence, Maeve had never been a loud or wild child, preferring the quiet of company. "Tetra," she begins when she finally breaks it. "How old are you?" It is something she has questioned often. "You look older than my mom, but you're not," she says then, piecing her thoughts together, immortality still such a difficult thing for a little girl to comprehend when she had only lived such a short time. It was the first time she had mentioned her mother to anyone aside from Lani. "She was 800 years old when she had me and Matteo, he is like a thousand years old," she says, but Matteo looked so young and fresh faced. These large numbers, nearly entirely impossible for a little girl to measure. But, yet, she remains so curious about which number Tetra should possess.
She sits back in her seat, eyes then turning to look out the window, such a question that had fallen from her tongue. She waits to see their destination come into view. "Faes live a long time," she finally says, scrunching up her pale, little face as if the idea were so awful before she quickly disregards it, turning to him with a positively beaming grin upon her face. "So, mac and cheese tonight, right? And a Shirley temple," she adds with a certain amount of courteous pleading jumping into her voice to the scale haired man. "You can get a grown up drink, you know, like a beer or something."