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.

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
Manager Raven 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

BLAIRE; still not too old to die young


Posted on January 06, 2015 by ISOLT GRIFFIN
West

isolt griffin
Beautiful was the night, the stars given in plenty within their celestial suspension. A million fireflies frozen, held for their brilliance within the cooled hearth of the night sky, to bear witness to the milling of the world so far below. It was gloriously resplendent, an axiomatic certainty that could not rightly be denied; and yet the night's stunning allure was something that Isolt had found herself slowly and methodically numbed to. The eve's cool darkness, its favor for shadows and enigma, was far from the warmth that had been one of Isolt's greatest pleasures in life. The coy young woman had never been destined for the earthly existence that came beyond the veil of death; she had, and would remain still forevermore, a spirit only able to blossom properly beneath the glistening rays of the sun. She would not, she feared, find prosperity in this life by dying should she be forced to endure it solely in within the tepid cradle of darkness.

It is, perhaps, deeply fortuitous that these considerations do not, for the moment, mar the surface of Isolt's thoughts as her lean and muscled legs carry her through the darkness that is now her greatest enemy and, truly, her only ally. It is a peculiar night, the young redhead finding herself absent from all of her usual haunts in favor of a portion of town that would otherwise not have earned her patronage. This particular district, with its shaded nooks and seedy establishments cast only in faded and flickering neon light, had once been one of Harley's favored locales. And it is this, the favor of a companion long since lost to circumstance, that lures Isolt in with a devilishly curled finger.

The fledgling vampire's appearance could not have echoed her oddity in any clearer fashion, could not have ostracized her any further from the populace. The delicate peasant top and comfortable denim she wears is the farthest cry from the garb of the locals, the crown of auburn curls set against her back equally as damning in its differentiation. It is a truth that dawns upon her all too late, it would seem, uncertainty gripping her wholly betwixt its wanting fingers as the redheaded woman slows upon the outskirts of the mulling crowd... myriad bodies flittering between one grungy dive and the next. How could she have believed for a moment that this place would somehow breed the warmth of Harley's memory into her soul? How could she have thought that this decision might, somehow, serve her well? Questions with no answers, whirling about within the unchartered vortex of her rapidly backtracking mind as Isolt takes a few tremulous steps backwards...


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