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
Her alpha seemed genuinely happy for her and that meant the world to Alexis. He knew the Ark was never her cup of tea. It was home to her because that's where her pack was, her friends. But not because she felt comfortable there. The fighting was nonstop and she had to drown the sounds of screams and roars out with an old radio she found and kept in her room. She felt some sense of accomplishment when she healed the fighters, but only until she saw them a second time...and then a third.
At the cafe, she felt more relaxed. There was hardly any noise at all unless it was the soothing sounds of soft conversation or someone typing away on their computer at one of the corner tables. She genuinely enoyed the conversations she'd struck up with the regulars and had smiles only for them when they came in. There was still plenty of time she felt lost or confused when asked certain things about the job, but overall, she felt she was getting more and more comfortable with it.
When Tetradore said he was happy, she nodded with a smile of acknowledgement. "Thank you. I am, too."
Her attention drew then to the building he'd pulled outside of. It was called the Bakery, but she didn't think she'd ever been inside. Fascinated, Alexis got out and followed Tetradore toward the doors. When she mentioned that he sounded like he knew her boyfriend, her alpha shrugged it off, saying they'd crossed paths a few times. She pursed her lips at first and her eyes narrowed a bit skeptically, but she decided not to push it. She gave a nod and a "hm" as she followed him inside.
He asked how she was and she gave her answer, though had to ask the same of him. He said he'd survived worse and she scowled, concern flitting across her eyes before she focused once more on the menu before her. It was no little fact her alpha enjoyed a dangerous lifestyle, but she still hated the thought of anything ever happening to him.....again. When the WerePanther gave his order, Alexis raised a brow at him. She didn't know if she recalled anyone ever ordering a flat white at the cafe and was curious about it but when he turned the conversation to the Ark, she listened instead. She appreciated the gesture, offering him a smile. "Thank you. I honestly enjoy healing the fighters. I just wish they'd appreciate it more by taking care of themselves a little more." She scowled, knowing that was asking a lot of someone who kept going back to the arena for more pain and injuries.
She turned back to him with intrigue. "What other things are you suggesting?"