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 (known simply as The Ark) is a sleek superyacht known both for its fight rings and recent...renovations, of sorts. 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
She loved the way he fell apart in her mouth. It was so empowering. Apparently she still knew all the right buttons to push because all too soon he was groaning her name and emptying himself down her throat. She swallowed every last drop, thirsty for more but there'd be plenty of time for that. At some point they actually needed to get a shower cause there probably wasn't a lot of hot water in this place to begin with and she'd be damned before she'd get a cold shower. Of course, any shower with Kohl was bound to be hot. He told he loved her and she inhaled sharply but tried not to let it get to her. It wasn't the first time he'd said it but she needed to stop acting like she'd stepped on a live grenade every time he did. It was sure to put a bad taste in his mouth and whether he knew it or not, she liked to hear him say it. It was just hard to show it.
Instead, she offered a smirk. "You love what I do to you. And I love doing it to you." She purred, licking her lips again for effect as she straightened up and let herself be pulled against him. His lips found her forehead and she smiled, closing her eyes as she melted into him. He said that sex fixes everything and she chuckled. "So are you bending over for Viktor? Cause I'm not volunteering." She couldn't help herself. Even saying his name had a way of sobering up the situation though. She sighed, scowling before she drew back. "So...shower? Cause I'd hate to run out of hot water."