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.

Bartender Raylin Chike

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
Cats Aiden Tetradore
Cats Harlequin Westward

just the king of the damned


Posted on June 18, 2020 by AIDEN TETRADORE
West

calamity

The life I live is one big calamity

Those two innocent words ensnared all of the Were-King's attention, the weight of his vibrant emerald irises left his intense inspection of the work done upon his sunken treasure trove only to stare at the figure he'd least expected to see. Samantha. Once upon a time, she had been his and yet, life had an odd way of returning the solitary Alpha to the place he surely belonged every time it gave him a glimpse of companionship. She seemed...different now, the way she held herself entirely more confident as her gaze met him head-on with a sort of headstrong demeanor the meek girl he'd dated so often lacked. It was unusual, but he said little of those acute observations as she approached him, his broken response clearly giving way his own surprise. Tetradore was hardly prepared for the way her arms slid around him with a sort of familiarity he'd entirely forgotten. Few, after all, dared to hug the Were-King. His own family often hardly even trying anymore. He was sluggish to let his arms draped around her figure, though that casual glimpse of...friendship, he supposed, hardly lasted long, to begin with, before she stepped away from him.

His gaze followed hers towards the trunk of the vehicle and the glittering slabs of gold nestled within the black duffle bag. Tetradore reached out, pulling the lid over the bag and further concealing the blocks from view, only to nonchalantly shrug off her inquiry upon what he was up to. Once upon a time, he wouldn't have hesitated to inform her of what had occurred, of the Ark, the gold, the pack, all of it. Once upon a time...he had trusted her with far more than he had trusted anyone in his life...once upon a time, unfortunately, was no longer now. That vague answer he offered, however, was one she was hardly keen to let go, the woman crossing her arms over her own chest in some sarcastic mirror of himself. His brow rose ever so slightly as she echoed the obvious. It was her inquiry that prompted a distinctly unimpressed look upon his face - his lips pressed together, his eyebrows rose briefly as he slouched further against the car behind him, his gaze turned back towards the ocean. Tetradore was hardly annoyed at her, personally, quite, on the contrary, it was the events of his life of late that so irked him. "Something good, for a fucking change." The Alpha muttered darkly, that annoyance fluttering away as quickly as it had come to return the man to that perfect facade of apathy.

It was the fae girl's soprano voice that drew his gaze back towards her, his emerald irises falling upon that radiant smile she provided him with. Admittedly, Tetradore had little memory of the cartoons he'd watched as a child...before his home was lost to that fateful fire. Slowly, his attention slid back towards the gold nestled within his vehicle. "They make bigger ones but they're worth more and it's harder to exchange for cash." He responded bluntly before his attention returned towards the divers. They had yet to surface though that, in itself, was hardly concerning. Each haul was... time-consuming, particularly now that they had reached his primary objective. Samantha's inquiry of what had happened to his boat was...admittedly...expected. For years now that ship had been an icon of the Western docks and now...it was just...gone. "The engine blew, it made a hole in the hull. The engine room flooded and then the rest of the ship went down." His head shook ever so slightly though the Were-King chose, for now, not to mention that such an explosion had hardly been...natural. The sinking of the Ark was a message...and one Tetradore had received strikingly loud and clear. 'Home' was temporary...just like everything else in his life. How naive he'd been to forget that.

I don't owe you a god damned thing