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
So Bo wasn't really the hero sort huh? Really, he hadn't expected the guy had planned to play hero. Tipson wasn't the sort of guy you looked to save and this wasn't really the area to hope something happens in. The vampire's precious cargo made plenty of sense. That explained why it was said to fetch a good value.
Tipson glanced back in the direction of the docks and the crate with its lid still partially open. Plenty of more stuff in there, whether more of it were things this guy wanted or not was uncertain but Tipson was willing to bet it would be. "There's more junk in the crate you know." The fact the guy was planning to take him on a ride versus searching all the crates was interesting. Maybe he had people on standby to go get the items? That made the most sense Tipson imagined. The notion of him prioritizing a thief over his job was ridiculous.
Giving Tipson the box made even less sense if it was what the man had been hoping for! What was his angle? Maybe it was about getting Tipson to a cell after all? Why the charade? Tipson wasn't in good enough shape to get away. Information? Be a friend, warm up to him and then see what information Tipson might be willing to share? That at least would make sense. Well, the guy would learn Tipson wasn't the trusting sort if that's what he hoped for.
The trip the car had given Tipson things to think about for a distraction from the pain but before he could get in the car it turned out Bo had some requirements to give Tipson. Don't lie and don't steal? Well hell, just ask Tipson to climb up a stairway of clouds and get him the moon if that was all. Not stealing was easy enough considering the guy had saved his life. Not lying though? There were a lot of things Tipson would rather not admit too.
After a second Tipson gave a grin that could charm the stars themselves and a shrug, "Alright, no lies." That didn't mean he had to answer every question or just avoid certain truths. "You already said you'd give me what I want." The words were painful but be damned if he'd be quiet. Tipson slipped past the guy to take a seat in the car. A simple car made sense.
Mr.Hunter wouldn't want to be showy if he stalked his prey. Tipson mused on if the guys house was as simple as the car or if he had real money spent on the inside. His gaze flicked about the car to see what he could learn about Bo. A car could tell plenty of information. Tidy or a mess, what sort of stuff was kept in it? It was all a story.
"You know, we both want to see what's inside. You don't have to give it to me yet but, you could still open it." Tipson's curiosity had no end, ever. Now that the man had said it was something dangerous Tipson wanted to see what it was. He had no intention to keep it of course and he didn't particularly care who bought it on the black market. It was all about showing off what he'd managed and got the cash to waste away. Sure, he was in pain and wanted whatever drugs a doctor might give but - what was in the box?