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

I've been dying to tell you everything you want to hear

Posted on March 21, 2019 by Darcy Blackjack
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How he could very near taste it. The beginning of fear. Those few first, delicate tendrils that danced like wisps of smoke around the other man whom fought so vehemently to keep them at bay. To swallow down that uncertainty that Darcy's presence alone had induced within him. It was only natural, after all. Alistair's weak, mortal existence was merely responding to the predator that was the vampire before him. Instinct alone so assuring the man that he was prey. And on how satisfying it was to hear their hearts beat and flicker and dancing with htat rising nervous anticipation as adrenaline filled their bodies and they danced upon the cusp of flight or fight. How much it spoke to him. Yet- how bold this one was in his efforts to attempt to remain unconcerned. How rare. A part of Darcy, so fleetingly, considering that this one might yet have made a good vampire....if only he wasn't so.....pretty. Yes. Far to pretty. Perhaps pretty enough to attract Risque's attention and affection in the way he had lured Princess. That very thought so setting the vampires teeth on edge. That jealousy all but seething within him in those precarious moments. Princess purred for no one but him and yet here she was, in the arms of a stranger. A dirty little thief no less. This one, he was sure, given that gift or vampiric immortality might prove to be as much a thorn in his side as Tetradore had grown into over the years; Darcy unwilling to share his beloved with any other- nor the affections off his pet. Risque and Princess both so surely his belongings alone. That possessiveness twisted about them both like venomous viper. One the unfortunate Alistair has so unintentionally provoked.

The other man's muttered response that he hardly knew the cat was Darcy's own did little to sooth the vampires precarious temper. That short, sharp whistle easily parting his lips then. Princess, as she was trained to do, managed to struggle free of Alistair's arms to leap to the ground before scrambling up Darcy's leg and torso to take up her seat and rightful place atop the vampires shoulder. One hand reached idly upward. Darcy stroking at that soft, kitten fur if only to coax his beloved pet into purring once more. Just for him. Just the way it should be and yet....he was so hardly done with the man before him. This one smelled far better then his last meal. The blood in Alistair's veins far richer, younger, more potent and far less tainted by whatever medical malady had afflicted the last poor fool he had torn apart with his fangs. This man would prove a far better meal and more then that- he needed to be punished for his theft. What sort of citizen would he be i he allowed cat thieves to roam loose? Darcy wholly oblivious to the notion his very disdain for Alistair was, perhaps, fed by his own delusions of jealous affection over those possessions he deemed he owned. Each of those fragile emotions so underpinned by that burning hunger in turn. A thirst he could never truly satisfy no matter how much he drank.

Those very words Alistair attempted to offer him were all but cut short in that singular burst of vampiric speed. Darcy appearing behind his victim them. One hand reaching out to ensnare in Alistair's hair and tangle those thick dark locks around his fingers to wrench the younger man back and agianst the solid plain of his chest. How glorious he smelled! Darcy's lips parted smoothly then, drawing in that breath, tasting his new victim upon the air itself and letting that scent wash over his teeth and tongue. How quickly that saliva began to pool within his jaws in anticipation of that very meal. A rumbling growl of satisfaction coiling within the depths of his throat as he jerked Alistair's head back all the more. Get off of me. How original. Darcy hardly choosing to response to those very lyrics when he had his own to offer. That southern drawl little more than a whisper then agianst his victims ear. The vampires hand coming to rest agianst Alistair's hip before tracing upward and beneath his shirt, running his cool fingers almost affectionately along the other man's heated skin only to pause right above that place his heart fluttered and danced like a caged bird. Darcy content to offer his knowledge on all those punishments available for thieves as he did. If only to make that heart beat a little faster and pump that blood around his body all the more.

How readily the tender, sweet slope of Alistair's neck was exposed to him. Darcy placing his lips almost sweetly to that skin in search of that vein he desired. His tongue following that trail until he felt the man beneath him near shudder with that sensation. Princess leaned eagerly forward then. Her head rubbing agianst Alistair's own in clear affection. Those purrs vibererating from her little body and into the poor man's ear with each affectionate stroke. An action of striking innocence in comparison to the rest of that scene. As if the little kitten so thoroughly enjoyed that moment. His victim so struggled to lean away then, pressing closer to Princess as if the Lynx kitten offered some sort of salvation. Perhaps some sort of peaceful sensation in those last moments of his life. Darcy hardly knew, nor did he find he cared. That action only offering more of Alistair's neck as the man struggled once more. His efforts nothing but futile within Darcy's near ironclad grip. How....pathetically weak humans were.

"I will keep me fuckin' cat. When i'm dun, I'll keep yar 'ead for 'er ta play wit. Like a ball. Stay still now eh? Das a good boy. It's just a little....sting."

Just a little sting. That, perhaps, the most significant lie he had told all not. Darcy teeth far larger than most. Those wicked double fangs designed for nothing but pain. A pain he was all to content to ravage upon his victim now as his lips suddenly began to sweep down Alistair's neck into his shoulder. Darcy abruptly biting into his shoulder then for no other reason then to make him scream. The shoulder so lacking any fat or flesh to shield agianst those slicing fangs as they aimed to tear though tendon, thing tissue and pierce toward the bone itself. How quickly he was rewarded with the taste of that hot blood. That scarlet liquid so sweet and tantalizing upon his tongue even if that shoulder had comparatively little to offer. Darcy momentarily considering how many bites it would take to sever that limb entirely, to gnaw through that bone. His fangs more then capable of that very feat and yet......how very hungry he was. Too hungry to waste time with showmanship tonight. His teeth released suddenly only for his grip to tighten on Alistar all over again. Darcy's fangs plunged then into the flesh of the man's neck with a near feral growl- aiming to puncture and tear open that main vein with little care for how quickly his victim would surely bleed out. Darcy wholly content to ravage Alistair's neck in search of that blood that flowed like a veritable fountain now. The vampire drinking in near greedy gulps, his fangs releasing only to bite again. Alistair's blood very near painting them both now. Darcy hardly caring for the mess he was making. Princess content to continue to purr, that rough, little tongue in search of any stray blood that might come her way....

d a r c y
and i'll stay alive, just to follow you home