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
(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 remembers the laughing. Her older foster siblings dragging her from the closet she had stuffed herself in as she cried her heart out, praying to a god, or gods, or anyone listening that she just wished for the storm to stop. They had busted down the door and found those frail arms of hers, wrapping their hands around her wrists and another grabbed her feet. Tears brushed down her face as she begged them to stop, to just stop and to let her be. They held her down as the storm raged, watching those eyes grow wide with horror. She could not reach her ears to block out the noise. Maeve remembers little from that night, just that terror wrecked her body, causing her to tremor and shake, teeth chattering long after the storm had passed.
The lithe girl with hair like the pale morning sunshine lets those lavender eyes watch the woman as she gently sits back, Maeve following a similar gesture. The smile on the woman's face only reassures Maeve even more so. The fear that had so clenched her body begins to leave her, feeling as relaxed as she had before the storm. The negative emotions of children so often fleeting. The bliss of childhood. She giggles with the wink upon her face, leaning against the cupboard she had been hiding in just moments ago. "Thanks, my mom gave it to me," she says, something she is so very proud of.
Maeve hardly understand the shadow of surprise that passes over the woman's face at the mention of Tobi. She did not know the violent nature the leopard boy could at times be prone to. She just knew he was perhaps one the most fun people she had ever met. He was hardly ever busy with grown up things, so when Raven or Mira were busy, Maeve could always count on Tobi to be available to play with her. Though how he always managed to beat Maeve in hide and go seek (no matter where she was hiding) was something that was beyond her.
A shake of Carolina's head is enough to release the ball of anxiety that had worked its way into Maeve's stomach, sneaking between her rib cage and fastening itself to her. "Thank you," she offers her in return. "I try to be brave and just ignore it, but I cant. I don't want to hide, I really dont, but I never know what else to do," she admits, violet eyes shifting downwards to her lap where her hands rest quietly. She suddenly brightens and returns her gaze once more to Carolina. "Tetra and Tobi are really brave, they fought a Hunter," she says excitedly. The danger she had been in that day, clearly lost upon the child.
But it is her admission that means more to Maeve than perhaps the snow leopard will ever know. Her small, frail hand reaches out to hers then, letting it fit comfortably in her own as Maeve remains eye contact. And she looks so wise for her age, it is startling. She doesn't say anything, just squeezes her hand once before releasing it and letting it fall back into her lap once more. "It is way too loud," she comments, agreeing with the woman before directing her violet eyes to where she says she had hidden during the storm. "Next time, we could hide together." She offers, always looking to the bright side of things, as if there were no darkness in the world to begin with. "Well, we play hide and go seek, but Tobi always finds me, I don't know how he does it," she thinks curiously. "Sometimes we play with his animals, and we did an Easter Egg Hunt too, but don't tell Tetra, because we didn't share any of the candy," she says, this little tiny admission. "What about you? What do you like to play?" That not all adults may like to play games clearly not crossing her mind this moment.