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 (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
I've been reading books of old the legends and the myths
To Piper's ever increasing satisfaction, West Side Stories was thriving.
It wasn't as if Piper herself had ever been even slightly concerned for the success of her business. She'd done the model, researched the best place to put the store, carefully hand selected each piece of the decor and placement as if she was putting together a puzzle. She'd done everything herself to insure the success of her business. That was... except finance it. Technically, Piper had argued when she'd proposed the idea, the money was hers. Her parents - well, mostly her father - had been well prepared to send their three daughters off to college. And Piper's two elder sisters had went out of state to school and used up every bit of their own college funds pursuing whatever degrees they'd picked before settling down with their husbands out of Sacrosanct. But Piper... despite her brilliance and ability to select whatever school she wanted... had chosen to stay in Sacrosanct. The University of Sacrosanct was enough for what she needed. She'd gotten her Bachelor's Degrees by dual majoring in English and Business, and even gone on to get her Master's Degree in English Literature - the latter being something her sisters relentlessly mocked her for. Why get a degree in a language you speak? But she'd excelled at it, and by living at home and keeping up on scholarships, Piper had left college with a pretty penny in her college fund.
"We'll save it for when you get married, or when you want to buy a house," Her father had said when she'd inquired about the rest of that fund. But she didn't want a big, lavish wedding or a down payment for a house in Anacosta Heights. She wanted to open a book store. She wanted to live her life surrounded by the books that she cherished as if they were old friends. She wanted to read all day and write on the side and what better way to do that than by opening a store where she could be surrounded by that? But her father had been less than keen on the idea. "You could open a different business, something more... lucrative?" But Piper had a dream and a vision and in the end, her father had given in after Piper had agreed to pay back the money when (her father said if at this point) the business was a success. And so Piper had killed herself working on making sure everything was perfect. From the tall bookshelves stacked with books to the antique chairs and couches that were strategically placed around to encourage getting lost in a good book. There was even a space in the back that she hoped would, one day, become a cafe to further encourage the homey atmosphere of her prized shop.
However, though business was booming and Piper was regularly sending payments to her father, the elder Aldersley certainly loved to check in on the young girl. He called regularly to inquire about how things were going - at least twice a day - in addition to his frequent calls asking about her safety. Her father was overbearing on his youngest daughter about her safety in the supernatural city - though who could blame him when his elder daughters had accepted his advice and Piper always seemed to seek out adventure? Close the shop before dark had been a rule he'd tried to press on the young woman, one that she regularly ignored. Her father, despite living in one of the most densely populated cities for supernatural creatures, lived his life being ridiculously fearful for his children and what those creatures could do to them. With that in mind, Piper had neglected to tell him about her recent run in with a vampire (she'd survived, hadn't she?) nor her favorite regular customer who just so happened to be a warlock. No reason to give her father a heart attack or a reason to hire a body guard for his youngest child who was full of wanderlust.
"Yes, Dad," Piper said into the phone as she reached high upon the shelf to stack a new set of novels during a quiet lull in business. It was his fourth call of the day, this time warning her about a series of muggings on the Southern side of town that he was sure had to do with a couple of young Weres. "I'm being careful when I walk home, Dad." Piper was oblivious to the sound of the door opening, nor the customer that walked the aisles of her shop. "Yes, I have my knife... and my pepper spray... and... Dad." She groaned slightly into the phone as he set into another tirade about how his daughter simply wasn't careful enough. Piper wedged the phone between her chin and her shoulder as she meandered back towards the front of the store, the glimpse of pink hair catching her off guard. "I have a customer Dad, I'll call you back." She said, hanging up the phone and slipping it into her pocket before he could protest. The young girl stepped around behind the counter, her smile bright as she eyed the young woman who had entered her shop. Her eyes couldn't help but wander up to the woman's pointed ears, a jolt of excitement making Piper stand up even straighter. "Hi," Piper said, her voice bubbly as she smiled. "Welcome to West Side Stories. I'm Piper, I'm the owner here. Can I help you find a book? I totally encourage reading around here."