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

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


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

and give you permission to take a chance, step back, advance;

Posted on January 04, 2019 by Risque

Out go the lights and bump goes the night

And with your fear comes my delight

Stronger than he used to be, those words ringing clear in her mind as if tasting something new and delicious. She had written off Tobias early on, he was broken in ways that Risque had hardly deemed him useful except to hold over the western king's head. The creature he cared for most of all was the very noose around that kitten monarch's neck. A perfect little threat to use upon Tetradoll to keep him in line. One of many weapons within her impressive arsenal as the vampire very rarely relied on one tactic alone for her brand of torment. What Tetradoll saw in the boy, she hardly knew, but his sentiment for him would be his very downfall. One day, he will see.

She was so blissfully ignorant to the emotions that wreak havoc upon Darcy's psyche, yet she was not entirely innocent either, as if baiting the man to peer at that intoxicating rage, he was so prone to. It seemed almost too easy a task and reflex to incite that infernal jealousy, merely because those very uproars were a glorious thing to behold, perhaps it dared to rival her own. She was not a creature who was prone to share what was hers, she was selfish, vain, high maintenance and when the mood struck violently possessive. Jealousy was a sickness, an uncontrollable disease that spreads with a vengeance as relentless as that acid that had eaten away at his flesh.

Even though she visually probes his facade for cracks or kinks from her serrated prodding, but he remains steadfast. That perfectly crafted impassive look on his face betrays nothing, even as she plucks those strings that intentionally strike such a resounding chord within him. "Hmm, I think I would have enjoyed watching you make them suffer." She uttered so with a strange blend of slight intrigue and indifference all at once. Still, she ponders it all the same leaning back into the comfort of her office chair, the toe of her shoe, dancing over the fur of her sleeping melanistic leopard concealed beneath the concealed shadows of her desk.

As much as she cared to linger upon toying with her Darcy's resolve, there were more important matters to deal with, like what was writhing within that infernal box? That obscure box that tortuously lay before her, that not even she could deny that she found a captivation within, after all the vampire before her very rarely missed when it came to those gifts, he bestowed upon her.

How had Darcy managed to get his hands on the two rare beasts she hardly knew, what dark part of the city did he have to dredge down? Whom did he have to deal with or kill? Especially with how his hideous neck wound hindered him from duty, how he had managed this feat was all but baffling. Not that she lingered on such thoughts long. After all, it hardly mattered to her what nefarious deeds he did in order to collect those tiny intriguing creatures. Not even she could find a suitable dealer for the felines that he now bestowed upon her. She had always coveted these unique little-patterned beasts. Their intricate patterns which dappled their fur nothing short of captivating and their eyes so entirely expressive adjourned with those adorable distinct eyebrows that made them seem comically grouchy. She would need to further examine them when he retired for the night, so she could begin that training she put only her favored felines through. She is wordless, coaxing them into submission with a silent stroke of her merciless power. There was no fight, not at this vulnerable age, she could mold them like clay. The idea, delighted her, relishing in that thought of complete control. In no time, the woman rises, peeling from her throne so suddenly yet graceful, moving toward him with certain intent that only she was aware of, allowing that rare compliment drip from her deep ruby red lips.

Now to examine him, encircling him like he is her prey, assessing and wordless she devoured his appearance she deemed appropriate, leather was always a suitable selection in her eyes. It was a dangerous spot for Darcy to be in, especially if one didn't know where they stood with the capricious nightmare that was Risque. This intricate but deadly charade was wrought with uncertainty and yet, she revels within it. After all, she very well could have created this game. It is fortunate for him, she is mainly pleased with him now, perhaps all too fixated on that healing wound of his. She even affords him that hungry lingering glance upon her alluring curves that dress afforded. It clung to her form like it worshipped every nook. That dress giving a tease to what he already knew lay beneath, but then again, when did she ever wear anything less? All irritation of his lack of presence had been eased over for the time being while she fixates and investigates every last grove of that gnarled scarred skin with expert precision. Even though it sullied his once perfect skin, she wanted to taste it, perhaps reward him with her undiluted attention for however long that lasted.

She liked how his flesh reacted to her touch, the way it seemed to call out to her instead of recoil, how his lust was every apparent in those unique mismatched eyes. It was like she fed off his want, that very desire that exuded from the surface of him. She presses into him firmly, allowing her stray hand to toy with the bottom of that leather coat.

Such a fickle thing, Risque was, her mind always twisted and turning like it were made up of constantly moving serpents, thoughts sliding over and under one another in a fluent chaotic knotted dance. It would take nothing short of a miracle to comprehend. How he survived her this long, would be forever a mystery.

How she is so very in tune with her own actions, knowing that effect it would have on him, knowing just which strings to pluck. She hardly paid any thought to the warlock lingering just outside the solid thick metal door. Surely, he would wait, even if he was reduced to nothing more than a vile puddle once those tormenting tendrils were through with him. It was all an afterthought as that exposed neck had her full attention at this moment, his want was all but clear to her, she could feel it like it was writhing within her grasp for her to command. She nearly whispers that inquiry, her breath dancing upon his skin as though she could feel him through that breath. She felt his voice resonate through her body, that thick southern drawl hardly dulled from the day she first met him. He was hardly the southern gentleman one would assume with that very accent, in fact, how fatal an error that would be.

He claimed he had used a constant stream of water to dilute the relentless assault of that acid. What a unique idea, then again, he was always using his distinct ingenuity to survive. If he were not smart, he would have been dead long ago. "Intriguing." She purred, briefly contemplating his words. It was good to know, she never thought of trying to slow the process of that acid by diluting it, just to do it all over again. How she liked to draw things out. "I have seen lesser wounds kill vampires and weres alike. You are a difficult man to kill. I like that. But tonight, I like you damaged." A sick musing which dawned upon her then. How seemed to endure her torment and always asked for more. She toys with him like he is her personal game, her lips almost touching that uneven surface, suspended there for a moment too long. All before they all but brush against that mangled uneven surface, wanting nothing more than to pierce that skin with hungry razor-sharp fangs. It was that simple act of drawing his hand toward her waist that has her gaze elevating, peering into those unique mismatched eyes with coaxed attentiveness. A suggestive raise of her manicured brow is what she offers him, merely two seconds away from tearing those clothes from his body before a cursed whining sound came from the door.

Just like that, the mood was demolished by that annoying, petulant voice. Oh, but the reaction in the vampire that held all that attention did not disappoint as he was damn near livid, those violent tendencies tore through him. A darkly amused look appeared from Darcy's feral intensity as he practically flew to the door as though he entirely planned on acting out those violent needs. "So volatile." That twisted delight dancing within those words directed toward the dark-haired vampire and him alone. That animalistic urgency so reminded her of her felines and how she wanted to eat him up for it.

"The night is still young." She cooed, that devilish teasing smile toying upon her features for but a lingering moment before turning solemn. Take from that what he may.

The warlock was a trembling mess when he entered that office, undoubtedly petrified from Darcy's fit of territorial rage. He cowered in his very presence, but there were two vampires to fear in this office as Risque directed the warlock to the scene of the crime. Darcy was quick to step up to the plate and offer his services to look into the matter of that missing lamp. "Take whatever resources you need to see it done. If you sense a liar, make them scream the truth then end them. If you find out it is one of our own, bring them to me." It was war, there was no time for weak links within this fortress of sinful nightmares. But one of their own? Surely no one would be so foolish to stand against the very rival to the devil herself, not when they knew of the hell that would rain upon them when they were caught. Her lips curled into a venomous, silent snarl while the bumbling warlock all but tripped over his two left feet to the scene of the crime whilst she explained those essential details to him.

Darcy found his way toward the seat adjacent to Risque's desk, his posture exuding exactly how he felt in that moment. She used her desk to lean against, hardly choosing to sit, scooping the two tiny leopard cubs, stroking their soft fur with purposeful distracting movements, watching disinterestedly as the warlock flitted around that room like it was in a fucking musical. The cats purring seemed to flood the office whilst she steadily watched the man work dejectedly. He was looking more akin to a madman by the second, uttering nonsensical revealing spells and who the hell knew what else. She sat up a little straighter, shaking her head as she could barely fathom such unintelligible ridiculousness. What in the hell had she allowed into her office?. It didn't take long before she was starting to think they were being duped. She allowed her mind, drift to more pleasant things like the collars she would have made for her new prizes and wondering if those adorable eyebrows would only grow with them or vanish into those strange spots.

Within the corner of her eye, Darcy was clearly not possessing the same pleasant thoughts. After the next few minutes, she started to feel the familiar prickle of irritation. How long was this supposed to take? She felt her patience wearing thin. Darcy was nothing but seething and vengeful than a starving feline. She began trailing her fingers along that mahogany desk, feeling the grooves of where one of her felines had dug its claws into it. It reminded her of her Darcy's neck. She stole a glance toward him, that penetrating stare lingering on every single movement before that warlock paused his raving ramblings with an expectant look, clearing his throat obnoxiously.

It hardly sat well with the temptress as she placed that feline back onto her desk, her eyes narrowing while they landed upon the man. That very minor action an indication of what was to come. Darcy near yelled that prompt, which startled the warlock into near shock. The warlocks stuttering, rambling words spewed out like a faucet, simply repeating the same things she had already know. His desperate attempt at the end served as nothing but irritating and pitiful. Darcy was quick to reply his fuse was a great deal shorter, quick to jump down his throat. How she would enjoy it to watch him rip it out. Those thoughts plague her mind but do not sate her growing writhing annoyance. She felt his gaze upon her, anticipatory.

"He is toying with us like we are halfwits." Her pale, fathomless eyes met Darcy's as though that very look hinted him toward what was to come. Remarkable agitation bristling within her core.

How dare he subject her to useless trivial knowledge she had already known, but waste her time with preposterous antics. Lamps growing feet! What did he think her for, a fool? "I do not care for having my time wasted.." She replied sharply, growing so tired with this impotent being in her presence. She moved across that room and in an instant, suddenly behind him, nothing but a blur to his human eyes. Hell, he smelled, that fear and anxiety making a cocktail of odors.

"You are a worthless imposter, warlock." She hissed from behind him, looking at him like he was a waste of breath, a scuff on the bottom of her shoe. She waits for him to whirl around to face her, all whilst giving Darcy an opening to execute her next orders. How dangerous this bumbling fool was yet to be seen, but judging on his current display she certainly didn't expect much of a fuss.

"Darcy, apprehend him." He did need payment after all, even though his time was nothing but limited. "Like the man said, he charges by the hour and... I should pay him." There was a dark, insinuating smirk that slowly slides across her sinful ruby mouth, revealing those merciless fangs in a small peak show. How her gaze slides to Darcy, lingering upon her leather clad vampire a touch too long, taking a certain pleasure watching him do what he does best, whilst she picked up the money that Darcy had left behind moments ago.


just face the moon and put your death mask on