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
To say he'd been surprised to see Sam's pretty face cross his screen last night was an understatement. He hadn't heard from her since their last chance encounter and he'd figured she'd up and left again. He probably wouldn't hear from her again for months, if ever. She was always a wanderer now, it would seem, never one to stay in one place too long. It almost made him sad. That must get lonely. He wanted to be a friend to her, even knowing Amelia might not like the idea of him hanging out with another woman. He had no doubt his fiance trusted him, but if she knew he'd once harbored strong feelings for the redhaired fae, she'd probably be less than thrilled with him running off to meet her. But he couldn't turn Sam down. She was once a close friend to him and even if she didn't think of him that way anymore, he still cared about her.
Wandering aimlessly into the shopping district, he sighed as he glanced down at his phone, wondering if he should call her or something to see exactly where she was. They'd decided to meet here, but hadn't gotten more specific. He was just about to dial her number, already nervous about hearing her voice again, when he looked around and caught sight of a lick of fire in the crowd of otherwise boring people in the plaza. A wry smirk pulled at his lips as he put his phone away and headed in that direction. He'd know that lock of red hair anywhere.
As he walked around behind the bench, he leaned down to whisper over her shoulder. "Mind if I join you, little lady?" His green eyes sparkled as he moved around to sit down next to her, sure that he gave her a little fright for his trouble. He sobered up quickly though when he couldn't help but notice the slight....change....to her body. Sam was always a little lithe thing, athletic and dainty. There was a noticeable bulge where there wasn't before and he wasn't insensitive enough to make jokes about her going on a chocolate binge. Concern flitted across his features and he scowled thoughtfully. Could this be why she had contacted him? Was she in trouble and needed his help? All the worst case scenarios flashed in his mind. Abusive ex-lover, one night stand gone wrong, rapist, etc. The list could go on and on.
Yet as he studied her, she didn't look particularly upset or even nervous. If anything, she seemed to glow with a look that he only saw on expecting mothers that actually wanted their children. Or at least what he assumed was that kind of look. The look he remembered seeing in his own mother's eyes when she looked at him or his brother when they were younger. Clearing his throat, he forced his gaze back up to hers and offered a smile. "Long time, no see, Sam. It's good to see you." He had to be polite and try not to draw too much attention to it, right? Okay, so he wasn't that good. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and leaned toward her, his voice going low in case she didn't want it to be public. "Are you in trouble? Is anyone coming after you? Whatever you need, it's yours." He was never good at ignoring the elephant in the room.