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 (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


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

Hush, you better sneak away.. You better find your hole, I'm going to find you;

Posted on June 25, 2019 by Risque

Suspicion, it envelopes over the wicked feline queen and it seemed to linger within every corner and tiny crevice of her kingdom like a thick suffocating veil. That routine within her very evening had abruptly unhinged, obliterated by being met with the familiar face of her lover as she opened that door. Something had to be amiss. That mysterious tune of that night nothing short of off key, plucking those chords within her mind. Even with Darcy's assurances, she cannot help the way she peers around those labyrinth-like halls as if she could find something that so contradicted that routine normality. Yet she was met with nothing. It would seem that it was Darcy himself that was the reason for that shift of the evening and he knew exactly how to lure her out of that nightclub with the luring promise of a hunt. The she-devil's appetites had not yet been sated.

That hardly stopped her from seeking for a snag within those very coaxing utterances and yet it hardly deterred her from accepting that that carefully laid out bait as though he knew she couldn't refuse. That timing had been perfect, he wasn't attempting to pry her away from her work, her mind already half willing to abandon that night with her silver-line fortress. Sliding her arm within his, she allowed him to lead he toward the waiting car outside, greeted by that sweet embrace of the moonlit night. That evening was nothing short of lovely. Not a single cloud in the sky tarnished that vivid glow of the moon, she could even make out a few stars that attempted to be resilient against the artificial light of the city's glow. That drive was fortunately swift, slicing through the city's streets as though it yielded to the very vampire duo.

Once at the park, the park of all cursed places the woman had not been dressed for. The sky seemed brighter somehow, those faded out constellations could be made out within the inky blue-black sky that threatened to compete with the hue of her silken straightened locks.

What was truly worth hunting here? It was then once out of the comfort of the Lykan that she saw the familiar town car parked in the spot next to them, adorned with those custom feline-influenced plates. How entirely strange. Tetradore's very scent stained the very air in that seemingly abandoned park. Oh he was close. Darcy's words so coaxed the woman's attention onto him, despite that irritation of having not the opportunity to dress properly and yet, somehow beneath that she seemed, intrigued. Like a predator catching wind of a scent she liked to pursue. She was met with that smile upon her lover's features, not letting on at all about that very charade he had set place, planned down to the very letter. She tapped her toe along the concrete, studying him in those moments that his southern drawl reached her. A game? How those words seem to peak the she-devil's very interest, as if to produce the cherry on top he baits her with that very mention of a gift. How he knew those very key words to ensnare her very attention, to coax her out into that waiting surprise.

Risque does not deny that embrace, the intimate press of his lips so purposely placed as if to ignite more than just hunger from her. There was certain anticipation in that very act alone. His words seem to pull those very chords of desire within her that could easily been manipulated that hunger for the hunt. "That should be easy, how many times have we played this game and just how well I know my prey.." She nearly purrs out those very words. There was an eagerness brushing against her words, that desire to hunt coaxing the woman's more predatory nature.

She could hear that easy sound of distaste, that produced growl within his throat. It was true, Leon had made some questionable choices over the years and yet, the man truly was good at his job. That mention of that side fringe brought a blank stare that he could not see nestled behind her. "I happened to like that side fringe, as you call it." She uttered with a finality, the woman so enjoying having something else to grab onto beyond that very chain around his throat. She pressed into him, as if just to toy with him once more as that final kiss was placed where she knew he wished to draw those brutal fangs out to steal but a taste that he would be denied in that very moment as that very hunt unfolded before them. Those animalistic urges grappling within her, her tongue slipping passed the threshold of her lips as if she could taste that very air for the alpha blood and prize that awaited for her.

All she had to do was catch him first.

Risque could feel Tetradore like a ghost of an imprint upon that near stagnant air, her heels sinking into the malleable forest floor below her heel clad feet. A nuisance, slightly hindering her movements and rolling her weight far more onto the balls of her feet certainly helped, even within those vexing boots. It would have been better to remove them and yet that scent alone feeding those predatory urges to the point she hardly wished to waste time, her focus is honed upon that creature she seeks. Darcy easily maintains her very speed and yet cautious to relinquish that lead to her and her alone. Through the tangled woods they moved like shadows, her feet carefully placed, easily skimming over those hampering mangled roots that jut out of the ground in an almost grotesque fashion, like rising dead limbs instead of trees.

The were king's presence was here, she could tell from that fresh scent and the clump of fur at the base of the towering oak. That black fur distinctly feline, she abruptly skidded to a stop, crouching to puck those tufts pinching them, rolling it betwixt the plush of her fingertips.

Her pet was teleporting, how that very notion seemed to lash at her as though she was battling with the notion that he was cheating. How easy it would have been to simply summon him, to yank upon that very chain that bound the panther king to her. All it took was a mere thought and he would come, having no choice but to heed that connection standing stark within her very mind. But where was the fun in that? She weighs out her own patience as if considering just how much she intended to toy with her prey. That answer soon solidified as in an instant, she launched herself forward, a blur amongst the titan-like trees and brush that threatens to grasp at the cloth of that figure-hugging material. She maintained a steady watch of Darcy in her peripherals, whom was quick to follow. The vampire duo hunted in sync; their bodies ever aware of each other to execute that very task as if fluidly choreographed. It was easy to fall back into old habits. The toe of her boot so barely scuffs against a jutting rock as she moved, leaving a mark against that expensive Italian leather. That sound of a hiss escapes her and yet that desire to press on outweighed the assault to those shoes. That indiscretion seemed to fill her with a new urgency, a desire for that outlet and to feed that very hunger that surges through her very veins like icy fire. Her dulcet tones slip passed the threshold of her dark crimson painted lips; those words intended for her feline whom she knew was close. That scent so close that she was certain she should be able to see him. Soon. That thought alone seemed enough to cause that slight sadistic curl of her sinful lips.

Darcy's movement drew the attention of her pale eyes as he snatched a lone rock from the ground before wordlessly climbing up a barren pine with far more ease than she could in that very moment in that restrictive clothing. He hardly seemed human then, scaling that tree with unparalleled seamless determination to that tallest peak, affording him with that vantage point of that entire forest. For a few long moments he seemed impossibly still upon that pinnacle, the woman inclining her head to watch him scan that ground thoroughly and faster than upon the ground. She rests her hand upon that adjacent tree, her own talons digging into that bark as if leaving her own mark, her own pale gaze swept her surroundings, seeking for any clues of what she could see from below. It was those words that traversed from Darcy's lips toward her sensitive ears that causes her gaze to once more face upward in time to see he launched that rock toward his intended prey, that tree shuddering at the sheer force alone. She stood straight poised toward where that hefty stone had been thrown like a torpedo through the submissive darkness, before crashing distantly. Risque was satisfyingly met with a faint sound of a yelping cry, the only indication that Darcy's throw had found its mark. She couldn't help the way her tongue languidly plays along the plush of her lower lip in contemplation, those gears shifting within her mind. How she almost took off into that direction without waiting for Darcy's decent and yet it was then that sweet thick saccharine scent peppered the air like a veritable breadcrumb trail. He was bleeding. That hunt was as good as over with that delightful scent of blood reaching her nostrils, her own hunger piercing through her.

How poised she was to resume that very hunt, the thud of Darcy's feet soon meeting the hallowed earth, his voice cutting through that natural quietude as if, obliterating it as though it didn't belong. It was a sound plan, how she couldn't deny that. "Do it.. I will be waiting to snatch my unruly little mouse when he tries to scurry to safety. He should be tiring and that blood will make it impossible to hide." How she always enjoyed to be the one to take down her prey, to feel them squirm beneath her fingers as they twitched and fought, but her grip was as unyielding as she was once those claws dug in. The stakes were high tonight, between that hunger and that anticipation of that promise of a gift attached to her chosen cat. The woman nothing short of adoring her very games, this one was by far her favourite. With a simple dip of her head Darcy was gone to execute that very plan, he moved with impressive speed before his form sifted from view. Risque travelled from her spot, those movements nothing short as methodical as she was, sinuous upon that prowl. In only a few moments she had heard that commotion, unsettling some nearby dear that crashed loudly through the forest, their hooves snapping twigs beneath their weight and panicked fleeing. Risque paying them little mind, remaining perfectly still and utterly patient, watching their little white tails disappear into the subservient shadows of that forest.

The devilish woman concealed from view as those worshiping shadows clung to her alluring form, while the anticipation nearly drives her out to simply just meet him herself, like a veritable boogey man. Yet she doesn't, after all she did have a little surprise of her own waiting for her little feline, one that would surely cause a misstep within his very stride. Come out, come out wherever you are, her mind began to trill.

How familiar this forest truly was, so akin to the very home she had snatched him from, she wondered if his mind ever went to that dark place. How that home must have been a sanctuary, one that had intended to keep him and his precious family safe from her clutches. She could remember how hungry that destructive fire was that day, taking very few prisoners, annihilating most of that pack in but a blink of an eye. No one outlived a debt that was owed to her, Risque's mind was never prone to forget what was due to her. That pack had paid for their crimes with their deaths and still, she felt the need for Tetradore to suffer for those past sins. It was the sound of Tetradore's claws digging and scraping into the bark of the trees he so uses like steppingstones in a show of powerful dexterity that has her eyes shooting toward him. Just as she had been expecting. Darcy had done as job, just as she had anticipated he would. She didn't need to see her feline completely, hearing and smelling him would suffice. She moved through the forest, her quiet feet placed with seemingly padded ease, those leather boots spattered with mud and abrasions from that run and yet fortunately, still not entirely ruined. She was hardly dressed for this and yet she hardly cared in those very moments as she drew upon her very affinity in an instant, the moment as a glimpse of her pet came within the crosshairs of her focus. He was a veritable shadow, a bullet bounding through those trees as her torment ability did the feline queen's bidding.

Right in front of Tetradore's line of sight was the tall structure of his beloved childhood treehouse. The very one she had razed to the ground when she set fire to his very world. But she hardly stopped there no... she pummeled that power out into that very forest, an explosion of her magic spreading wide to encase her intended target. All those feelings of pain from the past intending to be unleashed upon her naughty little feline. Those illusionary flames were next to come, the consuming fire mirroring her own blazing hunger as they rose ever higher, intending to encase him. They were hardly real and yet the heat of them still were intended for him and him alone. There was truly no where he could escape, not yet. They deceptively envelop that once peaceful woodland, spreading wide like a plague and expanding out until she no longer cared to press on further. She let the sound of his family's cries echo through the dense foliage, to assault him with vivid clarity. To Tetradore, they would be relentless, closing in on him, along with her. She would eat him alive with that nostalgia before claiming him to do just that. Darcy, being immune to those mental powers would feel nothing, see, nothing... but to Tetradore, that fiery, roasting hell would become his reality. She moves forward so she could catch a glimpse of her feline, wanting to see what dreaded corrosive memories she could dredge up with that panther's little mind of his. That mind that was her personal amusement park, he had better hope he buckled up. She scans for Darcy who had yet to emerge only to be met with confusion while Tetradore met his own personal hell.