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

take a look at me 'cause I could not care at all

Posted on October 06, 2019 by ALEXANDER MACEDONIA

How strikingly well Alexander knew that look of feigned offense - the impishness that had preceded it only furthered his knowledge of just how correct his assertation was. His eyebrow rose at Matteo's shocked French lit, the Hunter distinctly unimpressed even as the fae turned to his son-in-law for some such comradeship. The declaration that Matteo would 'grow up' with low self-esteem prompted an audible snort from Alexander's nose. "Frankly I think you could use a little less self-confidence." He muttered under his breath with a roll of his eyes. He was almost thankful as they arrived at the doors of that dark, silent Bently. The trio were quick to climb into the depths of the vehicle as Alexander turned his attention towards the careful maneuvering of the car. It hardly mattered to him the speed at which they arrived at their destination. Why should it, after all, when they had an eternity to spend ahead of them? Matteo had lost all interest within teasing him of his own driving habits, the fae keen to turn his thoughts instead to far more pleasurable activities - ones they were sure to both relish in at the end of the month. Alexander, was quick to agree to those arrangements, those nights with Amelie rather enjoyable despite the woman's otherwise married status. It had, admittedly, not particularly bothered him those years ago when he had first met the woman - nor had his own infidelity ever truly perturbed him. Kings, after all, had played by a whole different set of rules for longer than Alexander could remember. As it was, with those plans made, Matteo was quick to instead turn his attention towards his son-in-law's more intimate endeavors.

That inquiry that Matteo poised for the Englishman was accompanied by the visible toying of the beaded rosary around the Frenchman's neck. How blatant he was being about his hypocrisy! Alexander knew Sebastian would never call the fae out and so, in turn, the Macedonian was willing to play devil's advocate. He hardly missed the displeased glance he was given, even from the periphery of his vision. It hardly perturbed him, however, as the Dark Hunter merely shrugged with the vague insistence that he was hardly one anyone's side. How Matteo refused to believe him! He was vaguely aware of how Matteo leaned back in his own seat, arms folding across his chest only to so smugly taunt the ancient man of his connection to those God's he'd once worshipped. For several long moments, Alexander contemplated the very answer he could provide - a card he had kept to himself for a particularly long time, if only for how utterly important religion was to his son. There was a distinct softness to his own voice as Alexander finally admitted the truth of his own relationship with Matteo's God, and why he struggled to find any sort of belief within the Christ his son thought had saved the world of their plethora of sins. That he found Jesus distinctly unimpressive had near immediately ensnared the very attention of the fae at his side, that surprise surely evident within the veritable silence that followed in the wake of his words. That very disbelief was furthered by the manner in which the fae brushed off his assertation with a wave of his hand, Matteo claiming that he failed to believe what he was sure was a farce.

Alexander's shoulders lifted in a vague shrug, the Dark Hunter hardly inclined to push the issue. After all, it was a distinctly precarious line he walked, between some veiled victory and utterly destroying his son's assurance that life's hardships were hardly without reason. Even so, he knew Matteo's inquiry would surely get the best of him, the weight of those enigmatic hued irises upon him were all but persistent as those thoughts turned within the fae's mind. The Dark Hunter was content to fall into that silence, knowing all too well that he would hardly have to wait long - the fae's attention so undoubtedly ensnared. Those rapid-fire questions were entirely expected, even if Alexander hardly intended to provide his son with complete details of his experience with Matteo's Lord and Savior. "Tiberius sent us to Judea around....20 AD. He was prophesizing with his brother on this....boulder just outside of town. His neighbors kept issuing complaints against him with the soldiers stationed there." It was certainly not the information that Matteo had asked for but it was all he was willing to give at the present moment. Thankfully, Sebastian seemed quick to seize upon how utterly precarious that very conversation could turn, the vampire choosing that moment to comment after his own incubus bloodline and his lack of querying after the marital status of those that had once occupied his bed. That very answer was enough to see Matteo put aside his consideration of Christianity - incubuses clearly vastly more intriguing to the fae, much to Alexander's own utter loathing.

His own fingers gripped the steering wheel, a soft breath setting upon his lips as Alexander listened to the Frenchman's revelation of Sebastian's peculiar lineage. The Englishman, however, seemed wholly ignorant of his own origins, assuring the pair that he simply did not know. Admittedly, the Matteo was rather...correct in his assumptions. How well he remembered the distinct....selectiveness the Succubus demon had held over her victims. Not too young, not too old, preferably single, and always male. It seemed that Alexander was not the only one contemplating their first encounter with Ardat - his own memory near-perfectly aligning with Matteo's retelling of the afternoon they had encountered the utterly bewitching woman. His features quickly contorted to an outright scowl at the very mention of the brick Ardat had attempted to throw at his head - though the Dark Hunter had perhaps been over-eager to also slide his sword through her abdomen, not that he had succeeded...that time. His insistence that Matteo would have surely fallen prey to the demoness was one even the Frenchman was willing to agree to, if only to continue with the assurance that Alexander had the highest resistance to her call than any of the others. They had never spoken of why he had not fallen prey to the succubus before, even if it hardly took much effort to deduce the reason. It was a thing best not dwelled on, if only for the memories it too would drag up - memories that Alexander allowed himself only in the depths of the night in the solitary comfort of his own bed.

Sebastian sudden inquiry on how that story ended only helped to further push back those recollections as the trio sped along the highway and towards his own cafe. Matteo was more than willing to provide a rather anti-climatic end to that tail. It was an end that led to one of their distinctly few failures to eradicate their enemies. It was, admittedly, the discovery of that link between Ardat and Irdu that had been something of a point of fascination for the Dark Hunter. He had never before encountered magic quite like that, nor had he ever found any individuals that had possessed that connection ever again. One day, they would track the pair again...one day he might again be given a chance to inspect that curious link that kept the two so innately intuned with one another....one day. For now, however, Alexander busied himself with parking the car, the Dark Hunter fitting it perfectly between two vehicles, albeit with little room to spare. It was Matteo's suggestion to simply nudge the car in front of them up, however, that prompted a look of utter scorn from the Hunter, though his comment was rewarded with little more than a roll of the Frenchman's eyes. Alexander turned the Bently off, effectively ending the conversation before the group climbed out of the vehicle - only to be presented with the gleeful faces of both of Matteo's sons. Although Aiden was a man of...distinctly few words, even Alexander could tell that hint of enthusiasm in the depths of his baritone lyrics. A small shake of his head was all that was given before Alexander moved to the front door of his cafe, letting the small family of men into the depths of that dark room.

Matteo was quick to disappear from the cafe with the vague insistence that he would return. Alexander was hardly concerned, however, the Dark Hunter instead leading his grandsons up and into his newly renovated loft. It was Dorian who first seemed to seize upon those differences within the space, though really Alexander was more surprised it was the size the fae had commented on than that architectural differences. The Hunter nodded, glancing over his shoulder as he led the way to the dining room table. "A were-rhino took out the northern wall...it was a weight-bearing wall so I had to do a bit of renovating as it was. He also took out half the building next door, and the owners didn't have the funds to fix it so I bought it out and combined the two spaces." A nonchalant shrug crossed his shoulders as the Hunter all but collapsed within a chair at the very head of his dining room table, the Macedonian kicking off his shoes in the process.

He watched as Dorian, Aiden, and Sebastian all took up their own chosen seats at the table - the Were quick to remove his own shoes as he made himself comfortable within his chair. Dorian's sudden inquiry of whether or not they were supposed to remove his shoes, however, prompted a small shrug of the King's shoulders. "Whatever you like, Dorian." No sooner had those words left his lips than Mattoe returned, arms filled with precariously balanced dishes. He watched as those dishes were passed out to each of them - the chicken one that he most certainly recognized. It was, as far as he was concerned, much better than the cheese pasta Aiden so adored. Alexander hardly gave the summoned cake much thought, beyond the glance of curiosity. Rather, it was those glasses he reached for, the Dark Hunter neatly arranging them in front of him before he plucked the bottle of whiskey from the table. Alexander took it upon himself to serve those drinks - pouring an equal amount into each glass only to pass them around to enjoy with the dinner dish he already knew was nothing short of exceptional.