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
Admittedly, the hunter was his hero, saving his life or saving him from a hell of a lot of pain from those vampires. On the other hand, he was also a stranger that was capable of killing all the vampires. He wasn't running at the sight of him showing up, hell that'd be hilarious to try but, that didn't mean he let down his guard as the man approached.
It hurt but as the guy handed out his knife Tipson stood back up. Hell, he shouldn't have sat down with the fact he'd have to stand up at some point. The rib protested the movement, sucking in air because the pain hurt as well. Tipson quirked a brow as the guy informed him about the quality work of his knife. Yeah, Franky at the market had assured him Tipsy had found one worth hanging onto. Now this fellow was giving him a whole little summary of it.
Tipson prefers looking harmless as far as no weapons showing to the world so when he takes the knife its slid in its own small sheath behind his back, easily hidden under the shirt. Large swords tended to draw attention as did robes hiding them, knives were far easier.
At the mention of Tipson's box, the young man had to decide how to play it off. Officially, it wasn't his box and no reason a dock worker would have a box like that of his own down here and obviously it matched some others in a crate that one would guess didn't belong to him. The man would give him the box after a doctor huh? Tipsy was a decent judge of character, he would have been in jail a long time ago or dead if he wasn't. He didn't spot any deceit in the man's face of planning to turn him in and the man had just saved his life.
Alright, for the moment he wouldn't try to argue being a dock worker. Not lie? Well, it would depend on where the conversation went but not lying was like a fish not swimming, it was just so natural. Tipson's lips parted in a dry smirk, "I promise, I'm not running anywhere at the moment. Oh hell, talking not only hurt it had a raw croaked sound to it. Stupid leech. Ah well, it was dead and so were its friends.
A free ride huh? In the car there really would be no way to get away. Well, he could always get out of a moving car when it slowed to turn or stopped at a light but while it's moving, even slowly, meant more injuries, and stopped at a light the guy would catch him in no time. Tipson let out a sigh, "It's Tipson, some call me Tipsy." Sure, the nickname was good for just cutting short the full name, it also worked well after getting drunk. Folk seeing him as a kid was good for the harmless act but he didn't tend to feel like a kid. The 'kid' died after his parents died, leaving a small adult. Guess he was going on a car ride. That worked, he'd taken a bus to get close to the docks, he didn't relish a hike and wait back to it.
Interesting. The guy was taking a look around for trouble also. More bloodsuckers or did he also not want to answer questions by the cops? He had just murdered a bunch of vampires which would likely cause questions. Nodding to the man he slid out from his little hiding spot, one that hadn't worked all that well. Oh, right, "Thanks." Good to add that in after someone saves your life. Tipson imagined a few more seconds it would have been too late. Bastards, all he had wanted was, well, ok a lot of the things but they weren't supposed to be there to interrupt a perfectly good job. Tipson took off the bright yellow jacket of the dockworker and dumped it on the ground. People would probably laugh at the guy and tell him where he'd lost it.
Tipson didn't imagine there was much to do for a cracked rib or bruise around his throat but he'd take whatever drugs he could get for the pain. Easier than stealing them and he wouldn't even try to swipe extra since this guy was taking him there. "You didn't end up here just to be the hero. What -" ah shit talking hurt, but Tipson's defense against the world was talking. "You knew they were already up to something?" It made sense. Vampires appearing at docks instead of waiting meant they hadn't wanted others to see what packages they got also. Huh, so what was in the box? No way he'd get to the other boxes now but maybe the guy would really give him back this one.