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 had a funny way of explaining things, like money. Frost had already tried explaining how it works too many times to count yet Malia still didn't see the appeal. He even tried to push money in her hand when she left, "in case she wanted something." Her answer always made him roll his eyes but he eventually gave up on trying when he finally accepted that he would always get back her saying that she'd just take it if she wanted it. It was what she was used to, after all. In the forest, growing up as a coyote, if you wanted something, you had to fight for it or take it and dare someone to take it back. Strength always won, so why should this world be any different? Besides, now she could teleport and was trying to figure it out a little more so she was getting better at jumping in and out of places without anyone being the wiser. It certainly made things more fun.
He told her she was still using the coins at the arcade as payment and she tilted her head with confusion in her eyes. How so? He tried to explain, mentioning the machines. She wasn't going to deny that the coins themselves were boring. They didn't even have a fun picture on them. But then he said the only reason was to spend it on things of better value and she scoffed. "The value of something is only what you give it. Has nothing to do with money." She nudged her head toward his pocket where he had straightened out the paper bird and put it back. "For example, you could say that bird is worth maybe a dollar. I bet I could convince someone it's worth ten. Different values, same object."
She was interested in how he was going to make her another bird she could keep, though. He said he needed real paper and she scowled in confusion again. "Isn't that all money is though? Besides the coins, of course. I was told there's coin money and paper money. Is it thicker than regular paper? Heavier?" That should make it harder for it to fly, right? She felt giddy by the time they reached the diner, ready as ever for her cheese fries. She slid into the booth and turned back to the man as he gave his order, smirking when he ordered cheese fries as well. Her eyes lit up as he asked for paper, though, knowing just what he planned to do with it. As she tore a piece out of her little pad and handed it to him, the WereCoyote couldn't help but scowl in disappointment, but when he didn't look too concerned, she leaned in a little, ready to watch the magic happen.