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
There are monsters outside & they're waitin
there are vultures in line salivatin
though it is dark in the dead of night
I never go down without a fight
How peculiar the fruit nested within Mira's palms was! It's deep purple flesh was unlike anything that Tetradore had ever seen, prompting a desire within the man to bring several of the curious fruit back to Sacrosanct if only to share with his own father. Such wants, however, left the Were-King's lips in a perfectly vague manner and yet, the hispanic woman in front of him was nothing if not eager to taste the unique apple for herself. The vibrant emerald hue of his irises lingered upon the curves and swells of the woman's naked figure as she broke the apple in half in a surprising display of skill, the very action prompted his brow to rise as she offered him a piece. Inquisitively, he reached forward, plucking his designated half from her hand only to eye it's pale violet colored flesh. The deep purple hue had sunken into the otherwise cream colored center, feathering around the edges in a way he knew would surely fascinate Dorian. Such a thought brought a small simper to his features as his gaze rose to the fiery eyes of his beautiful Mira. How innocent she seemed, settled beside him as she savored the sweet juiciness of the apple. There was something...endearing about that intimate moment, even as the woman insisted he try the fruit in his hand.
It was with her insistence that Tetradore brought the fruit to his own lips, the Alpha hardly pausing before he bit into the crunchiness of the apple. A soft sound of surprise left his lips as he chewed on his slice, the sweetness filling his mouth and decidedly parched tongue. The apple had, admittedly, quite hit the spot in the aftermath of their exhausting, though no less satisfying, sex. His very comment, however, upon Mira's desire for nightfall prompted a wholly unexpected inquiry from the woman. How utterly aware he was of what she was providing him, an opening that he was so clearly meant to take, even if he hadn't the slightest idea of what it was that so lingered upon her mind. Nevertheless, for once, Tetradore gave into Mira's desires, the man inquiring after just why she had denied him sleep if not for the blissful pleasure of their time spent in one another's embrace. He was almost surprised to note the sudden bashfulness that afflicted the usual confident woman, even if she insisted that he wasn't allowed to laugh.Her very demand prompted a chuckle to the unusually lighthearted man's lips before he agreed solemnly to her terms. Not laughing, after all, was surely an easy task for the often stoic Were-King.
He watched as she shifted upon the bed at his side, nestling further into the plush pillows only to curl her legs up beneath her. The very action surely put far more of her physic upon display and yet, after only just indulging in all she had to offer, Tetradore's thoughts hardly lingered upon sex so much as the peculairness of her almost timid actions. In all the years he had known her, never once had she displayed even a hint of hesitant bashfulness. His brows furrowed as he watched her, the man altogether attentive to those words she finally expressed of the life she'd once so fervently planned for herself, one that she was destined to have stripped away from her. It pained him to hear of the path she had once been destined to take, if only to become one of those rare few thrust into the cold embrace of space. Slowly, his gaze drifted down to his lap as Tetradore considered what might be done to bring those very desires to fruition. This, he was certain, something he could at least help to put her back upon the right path, even if it was at the danger of losing the woman he had become....so surprisingly attached to.
Her name was altogether soft upon his lips, those syllables drawing her inquisitive gaze. For a tender moment, their gaze met before his baritone voice continued in the same hushed tone. That genteel offer to get her back enrolled within her university of choice was met with an almost stunned silence, the young woman almost freezing in place as she stared at him. It took a moment before those golden irises began to fill with unspilled tears, that look one he knew well even if it failed to voice even a hint of his observations. She reached forward for his free hand, her fingers interweaving within his own as she shifted closer towards him. The Were-King was, admittedly, not one to typically engage in such tender displays of affection as hand-holding and yet, here, so very far from Sacrosanct and the monsters that haunted him every step, there was little reason not to relish in those small touches. The soft inhale upon her lips drew the vibrant emerald of her gaze as Mira expressed those very sacrifices she had been forced to make that led her to where she now was in life. The very last thing he anticipated, however, was her insistence that she had finally found a home, one she had chosen, one that made her happy - happier than any dream of space and the stars. The very declaration left the Alpha staring at her, his features perfectly poised in that glimpse of tranquility and yet, his thoughts had entirely latched onto that simple announcement, one that filled him with a feeling entirely new to the man. She was happy...here...with him.
Those very thoughts, however, were interrupted by the woman's feminine giggle as she challenged him to a rematch of....well, something. An almost weak simper crossed his lips, that moment passing far before he could even act upon that realization as she inquired after his past, the woman's effort to once again take turns entirely reminiscent of the night they had met, all those years ago. His gaze deviated from the woman, drifting instead towards the apple in his lap as he began to contemplate those memories from a far happier time within his life, one he often chose to forget. It was a long moment of baited silence before Tetradore finally spoke of that moment he had decided what he wanted to grow up to be - a dream that had become as much of an infeasibility as Mira's own. That last day he'd spent with his own true father had been one he had always treasured, that secret day had always been his with his refusal to share even the memory with another...until now. That soft laughter at his own childishness, however, was not one Mira shared, the woman instead keen to insist that he was surely on the same level of those genuine racers.
His head shook ever so slightly, even despite Mira's insistence that he was the best racer that she had ever known. "Street racing is...completely different from Formula One racing, Mira." Tetradore insisted, after all...those race cars and their drivers were viewed as the cream of the crop. They simply were the very best in the world. Thankfully, the conversation hardly dwindled on the topic as Mira instead inquired of the posters on his childhood wall. His eyebrows furrowed in consideration, only for his head to shake ever so slightly. "I...I don't remember." It...hurt, in some ways, to realize details like that had slipped from his memory, the man only vaguely capable of remembering bits and pieces of his childhood home. There had been dark wooden walls...he remembered a large rug at the center of the floor, one that had been...exceptionally fuzzy. His bed had sat in the corner opposite of the closet but....posters....on the walls? The names she listed off of her own childhood heros, however, were all but foreign to him and yet, Tetradore was eager to let his attention drift towards the young woman's childhood home.
It was a shame, admittedly, that it was only short term before her inquiry returned towards the father that he so rarely spoke of and that one memory he'd finally share. His head shook ever so slightly, "No, someone else did." Tetradore offered her, hardly bothering to expand upon who that someone else was. Darcy, after all, was not someone he wished to speak of, even on a good day. He had distinctly few memories of the vampire that were not filled with some sort of physical, emotional, or mental anguish - all of which he had little desire to revisit when he had finally found some sort of tranquility within China. Thankfully, Mira was all too easy to distract away from the topic as Tetradore turned the conversation back to her own family. Nevertheless, the conversation seemed to drift with ease from one topic to the next, Tetradore regaling her desires to know more, in some regards, as he nibbled on the treats spread out around him. Sunset turned into darkness, the colors fading into the sky till ebony reigned and those small pinpricks of light Mira so adored shone with brilliance.
Eventually, the young woman's attention turned back towards the large glass window and the stars that sparkled for her viewing. The giddiness within her voice was all but palpable as she slid from the warmth of the bed and sluggishly Tetradore followed suit. The Were-King hardly concerned himself with clothes as he trailed behind her, his arms easily looped around her waist as he pulled Mira flush against his bare chest. His chin settled upon Mira's shoulder as his emerald eyes turned out towards the night skin, the man altogether silent in his observation of stars he'd never before paid any true attention to. Perhaps now, maybe the night might hold something more than nightmares for the Alpha - thanks to her. His gaze turned slowly towards the woman he leaned against, only to shift ever so slightly to press his lips against her cheek in a decidedly chaste kiss - the very likes of which he had never before given her outside of those intimate encounters.