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
It was almost adorable, how happy the woman seemed to find the money in the wallet she'd just filched. For a moment, Taylor actually considered not getting involved, just letting her get away with it. The guy seemed like a jerk, really, and he probably didn't need that money as much as she did. But something made him want to say something anyway. When he did speak, the woman jumped, pretty much throwing the wallet as she cursed and turned to him. Even as she tossed accusations at him about being a neighborhood watch and being the first to go, he couldn't help but smirk and cross his arms in amusement. His brow quirked. "Oh yeah? And what order will the witty thief go? Ever hear about the curious cat who couldn't keep her paws to herself?" His eyes gleamed teasingly as he watched her. He couldn't tell if she was about to run, or fight him, really. Did she think he was going to take the money from her?
Finally, he chuckled and threw his hands up in a surrender. "Hey, I'm not going to make you give it back. He didn't really seem like he'll miss it." He looked back over his shoulder with a shrug before turning back to her. "But maybe that picture is worth something to him. Once you take what you want from it, think I could have it to return to him?" Seemed like the decent thing to do. She didn't strike him as the malicious type so maybe she wouldn't mind that.