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
He looked pretty open to talk as Malia finally turned to see the attractive Were she couldn't get out of her head. Even though they were such opposites, with Ashton being shy and modest while the WereCoyote was anything but, she couldn't seem to stop wanting to be around him and get to know him better. He was so damn cute, for one. And he seemed so lonely at times, like he needed a friend. Who better than her, right? She hated that they hadn't spent too much time together since their trip to the beach but Malia wanted to remedy that ASAP. She had figured on spending the night alone running in the woods, but hanging out with her crush couldn't be a bad alternative. She didn't think so, anyway. She smirked almost sheepishly at his comment, her gaze drifting toward the woods as she spoke. "Needed to clear my head. Running does it better for me than walking." Her eyes lit up teasingly on the last part.
God, she had missed that country accent of his. It made her skin tingle in ways she'd never felt before, almost as if fingers were touching her instead. She smiled more genuinely to reply to his question. "Good, I guess. Busy with the pack. What about you? Giving out anymore surf lessons?" Her brows quirked a little.