West

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.

What You'll Find Here

Black Market
Cull & Pistol
Noah's Ark
Syn

Black Market

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.

What You'll Find Here

Edge of the Circle

Cull & Pistol

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.

Noah's Ark

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

Co-owner Tobias Cain
Manager Raven Cain
Bar Manager Mira Ramos
Bartender Henry Tudor
Waitress Carolina Bedford

Syn

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

Manager Darcy Blackjack
Vampires Cobain Dalca
Cats Aiden Tetradore
Cats Harlequin Westward

something wicked this way comes


Posted on November 03, 2019 by serafina dubois
West


The young witch's lips were pressed together in a hard line, her features clearly contemplative and yet, unlike her companion, she hardly expected her little songbird to be a wealth of knowledge. Her shoulders lifted ever so slightly in a vague shrug of her companion's dismay. "He probably doesn't ask specifics on why his client wants certain things. I don't for mine. It frees you from culpability, and most higher-paying clientele prefer it that way." Even if it was sensible, to some degree, it certainly made Serafina's own hunt far more....difficult. Even the witch was prone to a soft sigh. Her fingers rose as she gently massaged her temples, hoping for some strike of...well, something - some hint or a clue or a memory that might make sense of all of this. What information they had gathered, however, hardly was entirely fruitless. At the very least now she knew she had a stalker, and why he was stalking her.......sort of. Raven's sudden inquiry of any high-society client she might have had, however, only caused the woman's head to shake ever so slightly before she offered her companion that singular word. There had been nothing of late, she was sure, that would have prompted this - she'd been particularly vigilant ever since her mentor's death to ensure her customers walked away satisfied, if only to ensure they returned.

That sudden inquiry of the man's partner drew her gaze back towards the fellow in front of her as he shook his head vehemently. "No...no, I don't think so. Taylor? His name is Taylor....Erikson." The name, regrettably, was not someone Serafina recognized, certainly not a client of hers though why Raven thought they might, she hadn't the faintest of notions. Her wolf, it seemed, was getting desperate in her attempt to clutch at any straw that might lead them to any solid answers. Frankly, Serafina could hardly blame her in the slightest. She wanted to know just as much as Raven did who was paying such a handsome fee for pictures of her. Particularly ones so....mundane. It was clear that any hope they had of unveiling the truth laid within that hotel room. It was with this in mind that Serafina saw to placing the camera back within its bag, the woman insisting Raven return the wallet in exchange for his cellphone - one they'd have to get rid of if only to ensure that their movements were not tracked. She was hardly attentive, as she placed back the man's things, to Raven's inspection of both the cell phone and the fellow's bindings. It was only once that voiced entered her head that Serafina paused, her eyebrows knitting together ever so slightly. How she hated that telepathy - the way it invaded her mind and interrupted the calculative flow of her own thoughts. A soft breath left her lips as she brought her fingers up to pinch the bridge of her nose. "You're taking his phone, it's not like there are phone booths on every street corner and we'll beat him to the hotel." The witch audibly snapped, only to pause and softly inhale. She was trying to be better at this whole...witch familiar relationship thing. Truly she was. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment as she considered the suggestion, hopefully without the interruption to her own thought process. How she hated memory potions. They were...difficult, often requiring a great amount of forethought and magic that she rarely had on hand, particularly if she wanted it to persist. Still, Serafina could see the reason for the suggestion.

The young witch sighed as she leaned her head back, her stormy gaze fluttering open. "It will be rushed, and not permanent. He will remember sooner rather than later." She informed her companion as she stared up at the ceiling. "Re....remember what?" The man asked, his gaze darting between the two women and yet, Serafina paid him little heed, as she flicked her wrist at him dismissively. She could feel the weight of his eyes upon her, almost panicked at yet the young witch was all the more willing to ignore him as she plucked those ingredients she needed from the shelves. Those herbs were each decided with absolute care, each one crushed into that delicate fine paste before various oils were added. It was hardly enough, on its own, to do any real magic, being so hastily prepared. It was only with the addition of Serafina's own blood that the potion finally began to come together in a swirling mesh of liquid blue. It was yet another scar the young woman sported, though her wrists were often a patchwork as it was. She only turned to approach the man again once her work was done, the young witch directing her familiar through the same procedure as she had before. It was only once the pair were certain he'd swallowed all of it that Serafina glanced down at her own phone and the time displayed upon it. "We have five minutes to free him, get him back to the alley, and get back in here before the potion kicks in, he'll be a bit...out of it until then...it should make him fairly compliant." Her stormy gaze turned towards the man that now stared up at her with an almost blissful glimpse upon his once worried features. "Where...where am I? Oh, why am I...tied up? Hi, you're pretty.". He had a goofy grin plastered on his face as he stared up at Raven, the poor private eye all but oblivious of just how he had gotten there in the first place.

serafina dubois


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