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
He could tell Darcy was an intelligent well educated man. He had that look of a predator but it came with years, decades even, of honing his craft. Knowledge gave a man power like that. When he spoke of vikings, he saw the change in Darcy's gaze. He knew well the myths and stories that followed his past. Many liked to make up their own versions of his life but he knew firsthand the truths and the rumors. Of course, not all of it was half wrong, though. His eyes twinkled a bit as Darcy asked if it was like in the books. He arched a brow, his lips twitching. "I wouldn't say those parts are all fantasy." Ah, yes, the good days. Bloodshed was his calling back then. He lived for it. He even went through a phase of collecting ears as trophies from his kills but that went out the door when they started rotting and smelled to high heaven.
It was easy to see the love the vampire had for his home state, but Erik was sure it wasn't all sunflowers and unicorns either. The man had darkness in his past or he wouldn't be a vampire. That was just his experience. Erik sat back a little as Darcy looked around, seemingly looking over the bar as a king would look out over his domain. The ever watchful leader and protector. Erik studied his features as he looked around elsewhere, his gaze never wavering even when Darcy glanced back in his direction. He didn't mind telling the vampire why he was here, that he would get vengeance for his prodigy, no matter what. He had all the time in the world to do it so why not? Darcy seemed almost surprised for a minute when Erik told him why he wanted the Hunter dead. It was like he didn't know the connection of a Maker to their Prodigy. Maybe he'd never seen it up close. Or maybe his own Maker was just a shit vampire.
At his question, Erik raised a brow but remained calm and leaned back in his chair as he surveyed his reaction. "Yes. I created her and had her by my side for almost 500 years. It was quite a blow." The vampire seemed to take his time in mulling things over before he settled back in his own chair and told Erik that he didn't mind meeting him and welcomed him back to the bar for a drink to share stories of his past. Erik offered a smooth smirk as he slowly got to his feet. "I'll keep that in mind." Dipping his head in farewell, he made his way back down the stairs and to the door. Even while he seemed calm and content, he was ever ready, ever cautious. A vampire could strike at anything he deemed a threat and he wasn't so sure Darcy didn't see him as such in some light. He would have to stay on his toes around the other vampire, but then, when didn't he?