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.

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

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
Vampires Cobain Dalca
Cats Aiden Tetradore
Cats Harlequin Westward

You're dripping blood, honey;


Posted on July 15, 2019 by Risque
West


Tetradore's intoxicating alpha blood prickled through the air of that darkness enveloped forest that had harboured many beasts within its midst. That launched stone from her lover had made its mark, that blood leaving a trail for those hungry predators to follow. She could scent the forests other concealed living bodies hidden, or fleeing to safety at the predator's very approach but it was the blood that kept the she-devil fixated on one being in particular. She could still pick those creatures apart from her chosen target, their heartbeats screaming. All around her that still forest seemed to be flooded with life, even though it appeared no more than an abandoned cemetery, those towering trees nothing more than their tomb stones. A lone howl echoing off in the distance, a melodious eerie sound adding to that backdrop while Risque lay in wait, ready to seize her moment to strike. How she could be patient when she wanted to be.... Willing to flush out her prey. A prey who knew her, knew her hunting tactics and yet how smug she was, taking comfort in the fact that he had no hope. It was only a matter of tactics and time.

That building anticipation appealed to her, that every moment that ticked by brought Tetradore ever closer to being caught. There was no hiding from them now as they sliced through that forest with that seamless fluidity as the wind itself, while for now, they halted. Risque waiting for Darcy to descend that tree, she knew that blood gnashed at his predatory drive as her own delved into high gear. Their excitement inevitable the moment that alpha blood peppered the air. That scent would soon be everywhere... it was powerful.. more potent than most other blood... it was exquisite. Risque could not deny the way her mouth watered at the very promise of that hunt, that promise of a gift only amplifying her greedy curiosity. The two vampire's eyes briefly meet, their plans mapped out vaguely before them. That climax soon approaching, she could feel it.

Darcy's plan was solid, it would work. And it would most importantly lead Tetradore right into her waiting grasp. That go ahead is given as Risque soon prepares herself for that promised victory. How the huntress nearly purrs in that expectancy, her powers reaching out like nets cast out but makes no motion to ensnare him. It was as if she could feel the presence of her cherished cat amongst the tangle of that twisted forest. She felt him, injured... her lines attaching himself to the wicked queen soon tugged just so he could feel those vibrations, a mere caress of his mistress' presence. A reminder that she was coming.. for him.

Darcy moved with supreme efficiency, dutifully executing his job undoubtedly to the letter. He knew better than to not disappoint her with a hunt he had created. How he had gotten Tetradore to comply was certainly a curious inquiry she would have to question him on later. It was no surprise how those two utterly loathed each other with such vehemence, both men at the ready to rip each other's throats out like two rabid dogs itching for each other's bloody ruin. Even she could not deny it amused her to watch their tensions rise and grow. It was too easy for Risque to so purposely add gasoline to the flames of their hatred. For the mere reason that she enjoyed watching the fallout. How they were like two nuclear warheads waiting to go off, both powerful in their own right, both fueled by vastly different motives.

Risque could make out the vague, distant sounds of Darcy and Tetradore racing through the brushwood and towering pines. She is cautious where she stands, avoiding that toying breeze carrying her evening blooming flower scent, a faint sweet mixture of jasmine and wisteria, clinging to her undead form. She hid amongst the trees, altering her position based on where she heard that occasional clamour. Why the hell was taking Darcy so long? How difficult was it to herd one measly cat? It wasn't like a herd of steer.

It was then in the distance she caught a glimpse her feline's lanky form moving easily through that woodland. He would have slid right passed her if she didn't do a thing to stop him. Part of her wished to simply watch both her feline and lover struggle to exhaust one another in a futile chase. Yet... there was more at stake and the huntress within her would not merely allow her hunted prey to merely race by unscathed. No, her sharpened those metaphorical claws, eager to meet that flesh. Risque's power of torment leaked through the trees, bleeding outward for miles like a blanket of Tetradore's personal horror. A maze of illusions of her own making, that forest dancing in flickering flames and potent devastation. Her were cat hardly immune to those horrific memories of his family and pack's demise. How that forest they were in reminded her of that very night when she had come to collect her owed debt. It was almost too simple to weave that scene, the fire blooming around them. A scene Darcy unfortunately couldn't enjoy the show of. Couldn't witness she was like an artist with a paintbrush, finely tuning those details... allowing Tetradore's mind to do the rest. All she truly needed to do was plant the seed and watch it unfold before her and yet her influence fed the lie that would surely consume him.... How hell was not supposed to be hot... but this time, for Tetradore, it was.

Risque drew ever closer, knowing that blaze would conceal her form purposely, her gaze seeking out her accomplice who circled nearby, like a hawk, talons poised to dive upon his prey if given chance. Still amongst the concealing darkness, that towering treehouse seemed impressive amongst the consuming fire, when she was soon met with Darcy's encroaching form. The other vampire slipped through the forest with a quiet that belonged to their kind, appearing beside her. He must have felt that power rippling through the fabric of reality like it was hers to command. It was no surprise he was drawn to it like a moth to flame even if he couldn't see. It was a shame, truly. Risque's eyes seemed to glow lightly in that dark, her own hunger toyed with her resolve to simply claim that thick alpha blood hung teasingly in the air. How she wished for that taste. She keeps her gazed fixed on her intended prey with that languid smile embellishing her bloodred lips, enjoying that apprehending hell she crafted. That question prompted light dark laughter, that sound barely mimicking the jovial emotion it was mocking. "Oh darling.... He is reliving that night of his family burning alive. He is surrounded by hellish fire, faced with none other than that treehouse he was clinging to desperately when we plucked him from it. Remember how strongly he gripped to that burning sculpture? He was but a scared boy then." The velveteen voice melted into the darkness for Darcy's ears alone... allowing Tetradore a moment to suffer within those painful memories. How they taunt and toy with him. She suspected he didn't need much considering how much attention she had been bestowing upon him lately. Suffocating his very hope until she finally put it out for good. Who said this hunt couldn't also serve as some warped message as well? "It's a pity you can't see." How entirely frustrating she could use those very powers upon him, she could hardly hide that slight disappointment.

She relishes in the way Tetradore seemed frozen with fear, hesitating in the stifling cage of her torment. Fear and blood, how it appeals to her like an intoxicating cocktail. Its what she craved for. For a moment, Risque remained the sadistic voyeur, waiting for that perfect timing to strike. It was when those flames rose ever higher and that low threatening growl slipped through the dark, Risque's hungry gaze shifts to her cowboy, his eyes still hazed over in his own contained hunger. "I think its time for me to claim what is mine, non? Be vigilant... Don't let him run from me.." She ordered before she burst through that space that lingered between her illusionary flames and her concealed spot within the shadows. She moves through them knowing no harm would come its wielder. She slides through those dancing rising flames like something from hell itself, those flames seemed to move around her adoringly. She stalked ever closer to her cat her voice reaching her trapped Tetradore.

"I know you want to run, mon chat.. But there is nowhere to go.. nowhere to hide.. and certainly no way to could escape." That treat needled through the air as she stole those steps closer. "I remember this night... do you? Your parent's dying screams sounded so... sweet. They paid for your grandfather's sins just as you do now.. tell me... do remember the smell? I do.. I can smell it now. Breath it in..." She trills relentlessly.. before she makes her move, slicing over that muddied ground without much attention. Her shoes tarnished with that vile muck. Her boots sunk into it as she closed the distance. Her eyes dart downward for put a moment, that hiss of discontent falling from her lips. She lifted up her foot for a moment, that sludge sliding down. Her once unmarred face curled into a soundless snarl, exposing those sharpened weapons within her mouth, a threat and a promise wordlessly uttered. In an instant, she moves with lightning speed toward her cat, she was fully ready to pummel him into the ground. She uses her fire, to rise ever higher, encasing him so there is nowhere to go but her. How she searches his body for a sign of that trembling, that increasing heartbeat, wanting that indication of his own fear.. Her hand snaps out suddenly, reaching for the scruff so she could lift him from the ground like he was nothing more than that little kitten in the woods. Her eyes immediately shift to that prize that hung from his collar, distracting her fixated gaze. "Your blood is so very distracting and you have ruined my... boots. How dare you. You are a naughty little mouse. You should have known better." She growled, disciplining her feline, jerking him painfully in her grip in retribution. Displeasure evident on her pale and perfect face before she pulls him into her, that grip all encompassing, tightly binding him against her with barely access to oxygen, it almost looked as though she hugged him, but truly she was only bringing that neck ever closer to her waiting fangs. Time to bleed. She presses the side of her cheek against his own, relishing in the warm feel of his softened her against her flesh. She waits not a second longer before she bites, even through that thick obsidian fur... how.... Annoying it was and yet it hardly stopped her in the past as it did now... knowing she would surely be plucking out those obsidian strands once she had her fill. How little she cared, her own hunger powering her all the same. She drank deeply, that alpha blood giving her that powerful zing she so found herself craving, she could feel it like an electrical current racing through her veins. How that powerful blood sated her far more than mere human blood, even despite it still tasted delicious. To her anyways. Darcy hardly taking to that alpha blood like she did. It was that power she craved and Tetradore's blood rarely disappointed. All four fangs embedded deeply into his flesh, that grip and her bite mercilessly boring into him as deeply and painfully as she could allow. Only when she was sated, she unsheathed her command, Darcy's name upon her lips.

"Darcy?" She summons him, merely expecting him to appear when called.. "Keep him occupied." She all but tossed Tetradore in his direction, her gaze never leaving that little black velvet box even though that anger of her muddied boots still wore upon her last nerve.

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