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
you could rattle the stars.
you could do anything,
if only you dared
Vhalla would never admit she was surprised to see Lazarus; though she kept in touch with Ellie she never asked about him. Mostly because she didn't have to, Ellie was constantly filling her in, much to the witch's annoyance. It was all in good natured, the female hunter continuously trying to shove the two of them together. They were so wrong for each other, Laz and Vhal two pieces of the wrong puzzle. They had their... moments, she could admit to that but she was fairly certain the man hated her as much as she hated him. A strange relationship they wove and still, they could never quite rid of each other. So, when the dark hunter strolls into the bar, her blue eyes recognizing his lean form. There was no possible way he didn't see her, the hair on the back of her neck prickling, knowing he was watching her. She could almost feel the indecisiveness rolling off of him in waves, the woman entirely aware he would make his way over eventually.
Snatching her phone, the screen lights up her face in the grungy bar as she lifts her feet and setting them lazily on the chair next to her, crossing her feet at the ankles. Ignoring him, she goes as far as to hush him. Oh, how she could practically hear the grinding of his teeth! A wave of satisfaction rushes through her, how she could never tire of giving the man a hard time. He made it far too easy to get under his skin and though she would never admit it, he could get under her's just as easy. Being careful to keep her face neutral, she finishes off her text to none other than Ellie, Your asshole brother just walked through the door, pretty sure he's stalking me. XOXO was what she sent off. Glee races through her brain as she finally sets her phone face down, glancing at him with that dry smile as she gives him a once over. Vhal merely looked at him as if he were a piece of meat, something to be auctioned off. It was then she purrs to the bartender, enjoying the way his eyes narrow at her. A thrill rushes through her at that look, her smile widening... though, it was more of a baring of teeth in his direction.
Her feet are roughly shoved from the stool, causing her to sit up and slap her hand on the bar to catch herself. Faking a squawk of outrage, she glares at him as Laz takes a seat next to her. Harrumphing, she flips her hair over her shoulder careful to flick it hard enough to slap him across his face as she settles into her seat, her hand wrapping around her glass of beer. His deep tenors has her shrugging at him, as she takes a deep drink just as he orders. Arching a brow at him, "I see you haven't changed a bit. Still watering down your liquor I see. I always knew you didn't have enough hair on your balls to drink it straight" she tuts at him, "Plus, I like the way I am," she lies through her teeth, that dry smile stretching across her lips once more. "Two years and you're still a prick. Surprise, surprise," she lifts her hand in a gesture. Oh, she knew she was picking a fight, but Vhalla couldn't help it, he made it so easy. He liked to fight back, he was the only one that fought back.
His dismissive comment about Ellie has her furrowing her brows, "Oh she didn't tell you? We talk about how much of a jackass you always are. At least Ellie deigns to send me a message every once in awhile," she rolls her eyes at him dramatically. She says it offhandedly, as if she couldn't careless, yet, she would never tell Laz that it had kept her up at night wondering why. Still, she would never tell him she lost sleep over him, it wasn't like she had that much time to ponder anyways. Or so she keeps telling herself. Lifting her drink to her lips, she doesn't take a sip and instead eyes him from the corner of her gaze, "So, why are you back anyways?" She asks into her drink, though her tones are quite neutral, a touch of wariness entering her eyes.
To the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered