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

b i t e the hand that feeds you

Posted on August 17, 2019 by COBAIN

The pale, onyx haired, vampire boy has always been prepared to leave, to find interest elsewhere. The churning of his stomach is enough to always remind Cobain of his insatiable appetite. He wants what he cannot have. There is an invisible leash bound around his muzzle that kept him restrained from truly unleashing that bottomless appetite on Sacrosanct. Those eyes, hollow and starved, are simply found constant staring across at faces- so many of them- and weed out the ones whom would be so easy and so satisfying. But every time he wished to devour all of them, he could feel that muzzle tighten.

And who held the leash?

Cobain was no fallen angel. He had died, been reborn, but he was no phoenix.

If Cobain actually cared about Darcy, cared about Risque and what they thought of him, and had an emotional capacity larger than a peach, a peach that seemed to have only room for anger and hunger, he would revel in the way Darcy abhorred him, irritated him. He would love to know that he, little forever teenaged Cobain, a younger vampire, could cause Darcy to actually feel something towards him. It would bring him nothing short of sweet entertainment and sick sense of twisted satisfaction. But, as reality it, Cobain hardly cares hows Darcy feels either way, his desire is to only please his mistress, everyone else was just hindrances against him from succumbing to silence and to the fiery hell that awaited him in death.

Those eyes turn about him, Darcy ever so touchy about the subject of his strength and how, no matter how much he tries to hide it, he is as much under Risque's thumb as Tetradore and Cobain were. If the vampire mistress said jump, they would all throw themselves over the nearest tall building. Cobain knows what hides behind those lips, those glinting flames with a pointed tip, their only purpose to cut and slice flesh as easily as a burning knife. His eyes, in return, are hollow and miserable like a lonely man in the prime of his life, wasting away while he drinks himself to death in a bar as he ponders over what ifs and some days. His own body presses upon Cobain's but the young vampire hardly moves. He knows Darcy's game and he has long since tired of them. He longs for silence once more, but Cobain, he knows, will not receive it until the task at hand is completed. "And you don't forget yours," is all he says. If Darcy truly was allowed to kill Cobain he would have done so already. But Cobain would die by Risque's hand and Risque's hand alone, of this the vampire boy was certain.

Cobain follows closely behind Darcy, while he hated working with the vampire, he would much rather not spend the evening in Syn, the irritation he felt from the disgusting creatures that came there to commit atrocities was ten fold. He would rather not be leaving of Risque's orders, but he could hardly disobey his mistress, the need to please her, to fill every demand she gave was far to strong on the teenager. Besides, fresh blood was always so much better than what he got from behind the bar. From the vein.

It is quiet. Cobain is content that Darcy at least has ceased running his mouth for now. There was a good chance that the Hunters would know they were there before they even made it close, those damn senses. A roll of his red eyes is the only response that Cobain offers Darcy. The young vampire had been fighting Hunters for long enough due to the nature of Risque's tasks he typically had to complete. Cobain pausing only when he gets close to the building before him.

He moves closer and closer and still they have not emerged from with inside their shell. They were waiting, but for what, Cobain was not entirely sure. He pauses next to the building. He can almost sense the movements of Darcy behind him and it happens too fast for Cobain to do anything. The bullet launches from its barrel and near instantly shatters the glass in the top window. Those red eyes narrow as they remain watching almost...calmly, sinking into his own shadows of the building like the hunter he is, waiting for his prey. He can smell them, rushing around. He can smell it, their blood and in that moment-nothing else matters.

The first one out Cobain is quick to grab and bring to the side before the hunters can even truly spot him. This hunter, his reflexes were slow, maybe he was new, or maybe Cobain was just hungry. Neck is punctured in an instant and Cobain receives a taste of his blood, all he needed for his powers to work."Kill your friends, and don't let them kill you," he whispers to his voodoo creation. So taken aback are they at the hunter that now is swinging around attempting to kill them, one of their own. It affords to Cobain those precious seconds to sink into his own shadows in the space between the building as no doubt they would only push forward, perhaps right where Darcy sits. For surely, they would have no choice but to kill their friend as he took them out one by one, inspired by Cobain's own strength he had given him, desperate to obey his blood master. Cobain now smiles almost greedily, content to watch.

cobain dalca