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
you could rattle the stars.
you could do anything,
if only you dared
Vhalla could feel the uncomfortableness radiating off Spencer as she trails her scarred fingers lightly up his tie. She knew he wanted to take a step back, to put some distance between them and yet, she had a feeling he wouldn't. He would remain - whether to keep up pretenses or simply because he knew she would manage to insult him about it later. So as her painted nails reach up to his shoulder, she grips him lightly and drags him down so she can breathe into his ear. The fact that he allowed her this much control delighted her - her breath tickling his face though she can still feel the tension beneath her hands. When she finally releases him, she settles back onto her heels, eyes glinting with amusement, that seductive laugh escaping airily through her lips. She has to blink a few times in surprise at the tone that escapes Spencer, the warlock having never been anything but dry with her. Perhaps he was picking up a quirk or two from her - that purring tone sending delicious tingles of delight through her blood.
Still, the context of his sentence merely sends those icy blue eyes rolling in her head playfully. At least, he was observant. "Touché," she says, watching him take a step back and fix his tie. Smirking lightly at him, she couldn't help but feel pleased at how she made him uncomfortable - though she had a feeling it wouldn't take much to make the warlock feel tense. Vhalla could only hope he could manage through the rest of the night. Despite having a plan, things rarely tended to follow them and they could be stuck her longer than she initially thought. Relaxing her face into a look of utter nonchalance, she quietly begins to detail the night, something entirely new to her, the woman hardly ever bringing a plus one on her evenings she was working. This in fact, was the first. Vhalla is almost ready to snap at Spencer when he tilts his head to look at Mr. Stanley but he merely takes a quick glance before his attention is back on her.
Good boy. Maybe he had some spy qualities in him after all - not that he would ever need it. The stumbling word didn't seem to be loss on Spencer, catching the way his gaze snaps back to her. Cursing inwardly, she had caught herself enough, hadn't she? She didn't particular need another person to learn about her 'employment' with Ivan. Still, she recovers swiftly and continues on, keeping her features bland and relaxed, a loose smile curving her painted red lips. His dry comment isn't lost on her ears - this whole thing wasn't even close to charming but she doesn't pause a beat as she continues, finally dropping the bombshell and what she needed him to do. He's surprisingly good at hiding his expression, part of the reason she chose him tonight. She could hardly have someone that was going to hyperventilate in a corner all night. 'Mr. Johnson' decided to begin their stroll back towards the crowd, Vhalla maintaining her position at his side gracefully, the clacking of her heels on the floor drowned out by the gentle music that played around them. Music that was not at all fitting to what was going on here tonight.
His comment as her glancing at him out of the corner of her eye - he was right. She was confident he could get Stanley's attention. A fact she was about to enlighten him when he continues, her whole body stiffening slightly. It's enough to briefly crack the mask on her face, Vhalla's icy blue eyes darting to him with something akin to... horror before she quickly recovers. "That... was the second option. If I couldn't get you through that front door, that's exactly what I would have done," her voice is tight but she takes his offered arm. It might have given her some satisfaction to see him playing his part and yet, her mind wandered briefly to plan b - something she was praying wouldn't have to happen. Wanting to drown out the thoughts, she releases a silent breath, falling easily back into that of a doting wife. "I'm confident you can attract his attention because you have the aura of a rich person," she shrugged as they pause in front of an artifact, "I can assure you that Mr. Stanley is already aware of your presence because you are new and he wants to know how much money you have hidden up your sleeve. Also, I've been watching you - I can tell you don't have an interest in anything in this mansion but you have an eye for... well, let's say the more expensive items here. I trust that you're observant enough to know which ones are the big ticket items because if you don't, we have to stay for the main course," she admits.
And its true, Vhalla could be entirely wrong, Spencer could easily bid on the wrong thing which would most definitely make Stanley ignore them for the rest of the night. But... if she was right - they could get his attention enough from him to approach the loving couple in under an hour. He merely needed to watch the clientele, to note those darting glances back and forth to those specific attractions. Since Vhalla would be too focused on Stanley and figuring out who else ran the trafficking ring with him, she would be null in the search of expensive artifacts. Tilting her head back to look up at him, she grins - continuing the facade - as he comments, her smile only widening at the utter honesty in his voice. "I think it would look lovely above the dining room table," she purrs, taking a quick quip at him from her previously breaking and entering. "As far as money goes, don't worry - I can fund if needed but we will be gone before the auctioning is over," hopefully, she tacked on in her head. Even if they weren't gone before then - they never collected money until the end of the night and using fake names would make it all that much easier to vanish.
The ease of her mask slips entirely as Spencer suggests he take up Stanley's offer, her whole body going ramrod straight and it was perhaps, a good thing they were still in a less crowded part of the room. Ice blue eyes turn on him, fire smoldering there with rage and the memories of being abused. It was one of Ivan's favorite punishments, allowing one of his colleagues to purchase her for the night. Not... that Spencer knew anything about that but still, despite the rage her already pale face drains of color, the rage accompanied with the ghost of horror. Part of her mind realized he was joking, that he was even smiling at her (which, she tucked away in her brain, he was rather handsome when he did so) but she couldn't help but to tense her fingers around his bicep. It takes her a long moment to get herself under control and before long, she pulls that mask down - her smile edged somehow, making her look a little more dangerous. "I would appreciate it, husband, that you don't joke about that. Someone will over hear it and report back to Mr. Stanley," she said after a moment, allowing her eyes to flutter close as she regained the rest of her composure, the edged smile gone, replace with that doting look, "Plus, most of his playthings rarely leave his bedroom without broken bones at the best... some don't leave at all," she says, her voice feigning sickly sweetness. So much for Spencer trying to lift the mood.
She had been so wrapped up in the moment of fear and rage she hardly noticed the man that was beginning to stalk towards him. Vhalla had done her homework - it was an employee of Stanley's, he was one of many who patrolled the rooms in search of men who would be willing to sell their partners for a night or permanently, though they tended to leave the couples alone who were clearly real couples. Vhalla can almost feel the slightly panic well in the pit of her stomach as she turns rapidly towards Spencer, her hand slipping out of his arm as she suddenly presses her red clad body against his chest. Fingers reach up to intwine behind his neck as she looks at him with wide eyes, "Kiss me," she mutters quietly enough that no one around could hear. She was entirely relying on him in this moment, she couldn't very well pull his face down to hers without making it look unnatural and that's what she needed. "God dammit, Spencer - kiss me and mean it. I'll triple the price," she muttered between clenched teeth.
To the stars who listen- and the dreams that are answered