West

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.

What You'll Find Here

Black Market
Cull & Pistol
Noah's Ark
Syn

Black Market

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.

What You'll Find Here

Edge of the Circle

Cull & Pistol

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

Noah's Ark

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

Co-owner Tobias Cain
Bar Manager Mira Ramos
Bartender Henry Tudor
Waitress Carolina Bedford

Syn

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

Manager Darcy Blackjack
Cats Aiden Tetradore
Cats Harlequin Westward

I stand in the corner like a tired boxer


Posted on March 27, 2022 by AIDEN TETRADORE
West

I'm Loosing My Soul

Pushing me to the edge of my decline

The Were-King hardly anticipated his Vector to reach for a second tumblr from under the counter, his brows rose as he watched Henry pour whiskey within the glass, only to slide it across the bar and towards Tetradore himself. He reached out to stop the glass from moving, only for his shoulders to lift in a vague shrug as Henry insisted it was five somewhere. It was logic he couldn't entirely argue with, or at least, logic he didn't particularly want to make the effort to argue with and so, silently, Tetradore brought the glass to his lips to take a sip of the liquor. He listened silently to the sigh upon Henry's lips as the man sipped upon his own drink, only to interrupt the silence with an inquiry of his own. Tetradore's emerald irises turned down towards himself and the clothing that stuck far too uncomfortably upon his masculine frame. His head shook ever so slightly as he sighed. "I was at the shipyard, there was an issue with some cargo." He had hardly been prepared for the torrential downpour that had awaited him outside and, admittedly, paid the price for it. Tetradore fell to silence, the Alpha hardly sure where to take any conversation with his Vector when, admittedly, he had yet to even have one that had ended well in the slightest. Instead, the Alpha brought his glass back to his lips, that drink likely far safer than any words he might have uttered.

The King of the Damned

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