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

didn't you flash your green eyes at me?


Posted on May 21, 2015 by Rixon Leifsson
West
photo 1638b989-d1ad-4590-8c4d-4d16fc4716cb_zps770e0cc5.jpg

It was with something of an exaggerated sigh that the white-haired man merely moved to lean against the side of that hulking rust bucket of an Ark, one hand lifted absentmindedly as if to examine his fingernails, callously picking at the dried blood that had become encased upon them as if it were little more than dried skin- his regard for the fading life of the wolf at his feet evidently near non-existent before one violet eye slides sideways as Alexis' hands ball into fists at her side, the barest hint of a smirk ghosting upon his features as she does, seizing upon this single show of resistance or display of emotion other then beaten submission.

"Are you going to hit me are you? Go on then, I'm waiting."

One eye merely lifted ever so slightly somewhere beneath that forelock of a fringe that fell forever across his gaze, goading the woman further, taunting her simply because he can- seeing if there might well be a final scrap of rebellion somewhere within her wretched body to be teased out. After all, if she is ever going to be useful to him he needs to bring back that other side of her, that side he had been so privileged to meet for barely a few moments the day she had shot the hunter. She was stronger this time, more resilient and yet she would break eventually- they always did, he merely had to find that single, breaking point. The little Mexican man had disappeared within the bowels of the ship, off to find this revered King of the west as the man merely lifts himself from his leaning position against the steel of the ship, moving to wander towards Alexis once more in this momentary lull of events for the day, stepping over the dying wolf as if she were little more then a carcass left to be fed upon by whatever foul little carnivores were running about in that ship. He can smell them from here, quite a number actually for so early in the evening and yet he doubts very much they all hold loyalty to the Kitty King and are thus of no import to him as he merely pauses before the vixen once more- or what remains of the mere shell of the woman that seemed to be teetering upon the point of mental collapse. How unfortunate. She had kept his company for barely an hour and this was what she was reduced to, hmm, evidently she was in need of more training then he truly anticipated and yet his interest in her is assured.

One hand moved simply to reach for the nearest lock of wet hair that fell about the girls features, fingers tracing the smoothness of her cheek in perhaps the most gentle touch he has yet to offer the woman as that lock of hair is folded neatly behind her ear. It is an almost intimate gesture, bizarre perhaps, given the current situation and what has occurred these past few hours and yet the stallion has never prided himself on predictability- another, momentary smile tugging so briefly at the corner of his lip before those cool, smooth lyrics emerge once more in that ever-calm tone.

"There you go, you'd look almost pretty if you wore you hair off your face a little more."

Those long fingers trail effortlessly down her cheek, grazing against her neck and the beginnings of her collarbone before pausing at the collar of her shirt- his shirt truly, what remains visible of that violet gaze beneath his own snowy locks lingering upon that flawless creamy hue of her skin with something truly akin to appreciation before the sound of someone approaching drew a sigh from his lips.

"-and someone always ruins my party, such a shame. If I were you, Alexis, I'd stand to the side as opposed to behind me this time, just a word of advice."

The words are little more than a whispered murmur as he turns from her, striding easily back across the dockyard to stand just outside the doorway once more at the sound of approaching feet, two pairs, by the sound of it, curiosity lingering somewhere within that otherwise bored gaze. He had been told of this Alpha, learned off him from various sources and yet until now had held no more then a passing interest in the owner of the Ark. In truth the only one whom had proven difficult to gather information on had been the aforementioned Second whom Nadya had assured him rarely left his Alpha's side. People had seemed so very...unwilling to speak of him, else whatever information existed on him was useless, Frost momentarily having considered that fact the pack was protecting someone...powerful- as opposed to a rather young, skinny boy with a mop for a head led by a shorter, unremarkable green-eyed man whom seemed to be of similar Spanish origins. The appearance however was unimportant in this moment, violet gaze drawn briefly to the younger, taller man and the chain that hung about his neck, jaw tightening slightly at this realization of what the leopard possessed before fixating his gaze back upon the grinning green-eyed man.

The scent of feline is overpowering, a potent, offensive smell and yet for now Frost remains content to ignore it. He is used to wolves, has battled wolves for much of his young life- felines however are another matter entirely, a different fighting style, one in which his own experience is limited to barely a handful of encounters and yet one his own instinct is more inclined to...respect. Cats are more dangerous- if only for their like of attempting to claw their way onto his back, though for now he remains unconcerned, eyes narrowed slightly in wariness at the grinning man before him- the look hardly pleasant and yet a prelude perhaps, that allowed the man to prepare for what followed. The roar that parts the jaws of the hefty panther provides the only assurance the equine needs of the impending assault, the feline an evidently....easily agitated fellow as each muscle in his own frame tenses, the black animal launching itself mere seconds later as Frost simply- drops. It is perhaps the single advantage to his rather small human size, reflexes honed from so many years spent upon an entirely different sort of battle field, dropping almost instantaneously to one knee before pushing forward to commando roll beneath the lunging cat, leaving the panther to sail over him and collide with Alexis had she been foolish enough not to move as he instructed her. A wolf wastes time, a wolf hunts in a pack, biting a limbs and underside- an effective method if a pack is available though rather useless as Raven had discovered if none came to her call. A cat, at least in his experience- wasted no time in attempting to tear open more vital areas, the Panther's lunge predicated to a certain extent as Frost rose easily to his feet once more, pivoting in place to face the animal again.

"Why must you fucking creatures continue to test my patience?"

Only the barest hint of agitation exists within such words, the first tendril of anger that is otherwise kept well concealed as those violet eyes rest upon the panther once more, the retreating leopard watched within his periphery before it takes the wolf and disappears into the Ark once more. He is reluctant to perform his own shift, his equine form...not ideal for this sort of combat and yet it is significantly more powerful than the skin he stands in now. His own power very near purrs at his fingertips and yet for now he makes no effort to utilise it, merely continuing to watch the panther on the dock before him, an impressive creature to be sure and yet one that has begun to try his patience. One hand reaches smoothly towards what appears to be some sort of barrel beside him, reaching into that collection of scrap metal to pull out a crowbar, momentarily pausing to examine his newfound weapon before tossing proceeding to spin it about within his hands, twirling it easily like a conductors baton before letting his attention return, in whole, to the panther.

"I can feel her, you know- your little dog. She's significantly colder than everyone else in your so-called Ark. She's gotten a little warmer, but not by much, the parts of her actually suffering from frostbite haven't gotten warmer at all- in fact they've gotten a little colder. Does your Leopard friend understand hypothermia? Septicaemia? Maybe that won't matter, maybe she'll die from the broken ribs puncturing her lungs before any of that kills her. I don't know."

The crowbar twirls once more within his hand, caught briefly to tap against the side of the Ark, the metal sound echoing across the otherwise empty docks, one violet eye briefly visible beneath that tangle of snowy hair as a grin ghosted loosely across his lips.

"I do know though that you can either stay down here and have it out with me or you can back down, go back inside and help save your little puppies life. It's up to you really, how much does she mean to you- though I suppose the better question is how much does she mean to your Leopard friend, hmm? Oh- I think she just lost another degree in temperature, such a shame. Go on then, are we going to have a fight or are we going to see how long she lasts with Spots trying to save her?"

How much is truth and how much is lies remains entirely to be seen, his voice entirely, eerily calm, those cool, smooth lyrics falling effortlessly from his lips as he regards the Panther before him. If he wanted a fight then so be it. He was...reluctant to shift forms and yet if he had to bludgeon this fool to death as well- then it would merely take him fifteen minutes longer to clean another wash of blood from his hands. He had things to do and these people were in his way......



Frostbite
HTML by Apollymi

Replies