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.

Noah's Ark

Resting upon the harbor, Noah's Ark appears to be little more than an abandoned cargo ship. 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


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
Vampires Cobain Dalca
Cats Aiden Tetradore
Cats Harlequin Westward

the sharpest lives are the deadliest to lead

Posted on April 07, 2019 by AIDEN TETRADORE

years I've walked in the coldest winds
from sorrow and pain I find my strength
the more I hurt, the clearer I see.

Crowds had never been Tetradore's favored thing, the man, unfortunately, having spent a fair amount of his childhood so surrounded by the pressing bodies of strangers. He was purposeful to maneuver in such a way as to not bump into any singular member of the congregation, even if he hardly minded their existence as a whole. His gaze turned towards the brightly illustrated map in Calliel's hands, taking in the very park they presently stood in before the young woman beside him so softly spoke, earning her his attention. For a moment, Tetradore provided her an almost blank look, that equestrian reaction so altogether strange to the Were-King. "No." He replied simply as his gaze dropped back to the map in her hands. After all, Tetradore had always existed with that cat. Unlike the woman beside her, they were more akin to one singular being than two separate sides of the same coin. Adjusting to that beast in the way she was so forced to was simply a foreign concept to the man altogether. Every bit of the man was as fluid and graceful and predatory as his feline - that mortal flesh a mere extension of the feline and vice versa. His finger extended to lightly touch the map, the man easily changing the conversation as he offered that pathway for the afternoon.

That questioning hint to his voice, however, went wholly unanswered as Calliel's attention turned towards the world around them. Slowly, Tetradore's own emerald eyes turned upwards, glancing at those signs were posted around the entrance of the park. His eyebrow rose at the sight of those rusted signs, the man scarcely aware of which one might lead them down the path he had suggested. He watched as Calliel placed the map back down upon the stand before gesturing ever so slightly at him. Tetradore easily fell into step beside her, his vibrant irises so brushing over the western theme that clearly began to surround them - from the cactuses to plastic tumbleweeds and broken wagons, the park was clearly trying to paint a world around the parkgoers. Tetradore was all too distinctly aware of the sounds that surrounded them - from the people talking to music playing over speakers and yet, the further they got into the Wild West world, the more audible those screams became. His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, his muscular frame tense, to a point. After all screaming was a strikingly familiar sound to the Were-King. How Risque so once adored to stroke those very noises from her prey and yet...this sound was so distinctly different in a fashion that all but baffled the man.

He paused as they rounded the corner, his emerald gaze taking in the very sight of that wooden track. He watched as those wagons shot past, the people inside crying out in their glee and enjoyment of the ride. How...unexpected. Slowly, Tetradore's attention shifted towards the young woman at his side as she glanced up at him with an all too gleeful grin. Admittedly, 68 miles per hour hardly seemed....fast though Tetradore had little to compare it to beyond those sports cars he so cherished. The idea of upside-down loops and barrel rolls were concepts he could scarcely imagine, even though one such drop was quite literally right in front of him. A small shrug crossed his shoulder, "Okay, sure." The Were-king responded, altogether oblivious of what he was getting himself into. After all, he trusted Calliel, to an extent. If this was a good introduction, he had no reason to believe otherwise. Silently, the Were-King trailed after her, his own emerald eyes glanced upwards, altogether fascinated by that rollercoaster as they moved under it and through that line.

aiden tetradore