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
Erik had never had a shy moment in his entirety of existence. He was old and he was powerful and more than that; he was flexible. As the world around him changed and modernized, he'd learned that he couldn't just hide out in the wilderness forever. The walls of cities closed in around him and it was either sink or swim. Godric, his maker, wasn't so good at adapting. He wanted things to stay the same forever. But Erik wasn't so naive. He soon ventured into the cities and learned to blend with the humans. He could play shy for amusement purposes but there wasn't a shy bone in his body naturally. The vampire across him didn't seem shy, either. Erik wasn't here for a pissing contest so he wasn't sure what the man was interested in him for.
He wanted nothing the man had to offer and he wasn't actually interested in the bartender. He only played along to push the man's buttons and see what his true motivations were. The other vampire seemed to find it amusing enough, pausing if only for a second before his lip quirked up and he offered a bark of laughter. He told Erik he had balls but that he wouldn't have what the bartender was after. Erik arched a brow, about to tell him they'd see about that but then the man offered more of an explanation. She was a succubus and she needed souls. Erik's brow arched up a little more for a different reason as he turned his head, gazing curiously at the woman as she leaned over the bar to woo a human. "Huh." Was all he offered in response as he slowly turned back to face the man.
The inquisitive looks of the vampire across from him didn't slip past Erik. He didn't know exactly what the other man was looking for as he looked him up and down but Erik knew he was a prime specimen. It was all that Swedish blood in his veins that left him tall and lean with broad shoulders that could easily take up a doorway. He also had the lean muscle tone and scars from his human years that only came from decades of bloodshed and war. He didn't work out in a gym for this body. It was all natural. The man leaned back finally, seeming all the world like he was relaxed but Erik knew better by the way his gaze darted but never fully seemed to leave his own. He didn't mind telling the man a little about his background. As the man asked why he left, he leaned back himself, letting out a heavy sigh as he shook his head.
"Long story, I'm afraid. Once the raids lost their appeal, it was time to see the rest of the world, among other reasons." And he left it at that, his way of saying he wasn't going to share those other reasons, at least not at the moment. If anything, he missed the cold of Sweden. Of course, back then, he would be wearing the furs of animals he'd slaughtered to keep warm, not the cloth contraptions humans wear now a days. Now, he wouldn't even feel the cold, thanks to his dead flesh. It was a bitter sweet memory. He turned the tables soon enough on the other man, asking for his own origins and the man didn't disappoint. He announced that he came from Georgia and Erik nodded to his question. "For a short spell. I visited a friend once in Jackson. I learned I would do anything to skip the traffic in Atlanta." His lip twitched a little, his only tell of humor.
As the man asked about something called Night Train, though, Erik found himself leaning forward again, curious. He had been lying low since he'd been in Sacrosanct so he didn't keep up with the comings and goings of other vampires and their coven drama. He wanted to stay out of it, but it didn't mean he might not pick up something useful from the man if he was prone to gossip. Plus, it seemed this place got under the other vampire's skin for some reason. He could tell the man was skeptical of his reaction, probably leaning toward him lying, but Erik was more curious of why it was so important. It seemed he'd pushed a button when he called the man squirmy. Someone's touchy. As the man curled his lips, Erik only leaned back in his seat, looking all the world like he was the one relaxed now as he stroked his chin thoughtfully.
He waited for the man to get past his outburst, sure somehow that it wasn't like the man to lose his cool like that. And as if by magic, the other vampire then leaned back and his expression went neutral again, like it had never happened. Erik's brow arched a little but he said nothing, letting the man speak as he said Night Train was a casino that apparently were doing some things that offended him. He tilted his head a little. "I haven't kept myself up to date lately on the activities of my kind, so my apologies. Are they encroaching on your territory? Harassing your clientele? Or are they just getting heavier on the supervision of certain gamblers?" His brow quirked again, his own gaze dropping to the cards in the man's hands for a moment before going back up to meet his own gaze.
He had to wonder if the casino was really a big offender of something or if they had only committed the crime of bruising the man's ego. Just as suddenly, the man switched tactics again, giving his name as Darcy Blackjack and asking his own. The last name had to be made up. It just had to be. Otherwise, it was just too ironic that a vampire who liked to play with cards was born with a last name of Blackjack. But that was none of Erik's concern. He dipped his head as he spoke. "Erik Tolgan." Next, Darcy felt it acceptable to jump into an interrogation of why Erik had come to Sacrosanct. He seemed to guess Erik had a motivation for coming here and asked who he was looking for. Erik took a moment to study the other vampire before answering. "A hunter. I know, surprise, surprise. This particular hunter took something very precious of mine and I want it back."
There. It wasn't a lie, but also not full truth. Nothing could bring his prodigy back to him. Maria was good and dead, but he could seek vengeance on the hunter who took her from him.