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
Tipson had certainly considered possibility of a freak with some of her statements and at this point would hardly be surprised if she was one but he tried not to put that top of his list of answers. Tipson wasn't a fan of freaks and they were the minority of society. He'd be turning his head at every shadow if he imagined too many people as freaks. If this girl was one he didn't particularly want to know it. Innocent till proven guilty. So far she seemed pleasant enough. In one form or another not normal but he was fine not knowing why if she was fine not sharing.
Tipson shrugged at her suggestion, "it's still just being used as payment. Instead of putting a coin in a person's hand you put it in a machine slot. The coin itself is still just as boring as it was before. You traded it off for something more fun. The only real reason to have money is spend it to get things of better value." He wasn't going to bore her with details of bills and debts or any such minor things.
Tipson let Malia take the lead to show him the way to the diner, grinning both at her happiness on getting to go to her diner as well as her skepticism on a flying paper 'bird'. "It's best if they have some normal paper to make it with. I can make something much better with that." Broke on the street meant finding ways to have fun with nothing. Paper airplanes and some other little origami were things he'd learned. Paper was something that you could find in easy supply, sometimes of better sorts than others.
Once in Tipson slid into a seat next to Malia, once more facing her instead of side to side. He noticed the expression she got from the lady and could only guess what sort of antics she might have had here. "I guess the meal of the day is cheese fries by my understanding. Just some water to go with it I think. Oh, and by chance would you have any spare paper I could have?" The 'bird' might be even more important than the fries by the girl's interest. He'd avoid telling the lady he planned to fly the plane in the diner.
Tipson noticed the lady didn't bother staying there to long once the order was made and the paper he got was a page from a scratch pad. That would work. The part at the top was torn to show he she'd ripped it out instead of giving time to carefully pull it but that was hardly a surprise. "Ah, this will work well enough for a moderate plane.