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
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

Harlequin Westward

my lovers got humor, she's the giggle at a funeral

Posted on October 09, 2019 by Darcy Blackjack

His cold fingers tapped softly atop the wood of his desk. That rhythmic, thudding sound the only true sound within that room outside of the occasional sound of Princess' breath. The Lynx lay sprawled across his bed in sleep, her grey and white fur a stark contrast to those black sheets beneath her. Darcy, for tonight, having returned to his old bedroom to work in silence. Besides, his new room, the room her shared with his mate, lacked that desk he required and Risque was using her office herself tonight. Darcy's free hand brushed over the mousepad of the laptop, that singular touch prompting the video to play again. That footage was precariously short. He'd watched it a thousand times over and yet his mismatched gaze studied those images with the same predatory keenness every time. This was the singular and only footage they had of that night. The Incident- as it had come to be known, had cost them ...significantly. Ina singular night, in a singular manner of hours, no more than two beings had managed to not only bypass their entire security system- but to dismantle it, break into Risque's office, free their entire population of feeders and release all of his lovers cats. The cost financially had been extreme- and right at a time in which finances were critical, that war with Cade ever looming. That veritable blow agianst Risque herself however, the theft and freedom of her beloved cats, had been ...catastrophic. Her rage had known no bounds. She refused, even now, to have The Incident mentioned in her presence unless it was to bring her those responsible. She had recovered less then half of her pets and none of those feeders. It was as if they had fucking vanished leaving nothing behind save for a lamp and a fucking pelican toy that Risque had spent hours pondering. Darcy himself, along with near every other vampire in the place having been utilised to discover the meaning behind the plastic bird. He had long since come to believe it was a ruse- and a clever one at that. The longer Risque obsessed over those less critical details the longer those involved had to cover their tracks. Darcy, tonight, having dedicated his time to the study of that video footage alone. The vampiric cowboy so refusing to be led in the wrong direction any longer.

He had seen one of those beings responsible with his own eyes. The vampire long since having deduced just which direction they had come from. That security camera by the door had provided footage of the thief and their accomplice, albeit brief, before the pair split up. One strode into that crowd and toward the DJ booth. That the being he had seen. The other disappeared off to the right, out of the camera angle and yet he could only presume it was that being whom had somehow, made their way to the gallery above to hijack his own phone and cut those cameras from there on out. Darcy's fingers tapped at the laptop again, that video playing once more, the vampire freezing that frame on the singular and only image of those two thieves together. Both of them had their backs to the camera, those Blue Moon logos clear as day, those hoods shielding any truly distinctive or identifiable features. Fucking bastards. That irritation rose within him like venom. A hiss readily catching within his throat. That someone had trespassed onto his territory, onto his lovers territory was....immensenl aggravating. That any being would dare to displease his mistress in this fashion was unthinkable. To have them both...embarrassed like this was beyond any assault agianst their coven he could recall in the last half a century. Is this truly was the work of Cade then he had managed to employ two more powerful beings then he had ever had before.

He knew Cade's staff, he knew who worked for him. No one short of Cade himself would have been capable of this and Darcy was certain neither being in that video was the blond vampire. Whoever it was had moved as if they knew Syn. As if they knew where they were going. As if they knew every door and turn. Those jackets had proudly proclaimed them to be Blue Moon and yet those beings had acted as if they were from Syn themselves. What was he missing? In all of Syn their was only five beings whom could not have committed that crime. Risque had certainly not attacked her own club, Darcy himself had been with her that entire evening, Tetradore had been in no condition to be responsible for this, Risque having confirmed his presence far from Syn, Harley had been far to injured and starved and Cobain had been absent from the bar entirely. Darcy reached smoothly for a pen then, the man began to write down the names of every employee save those five atop the nearest sheet of paper. He would clear their own staff of any involvement first. A sudden knock at that door saw his head lift. His voice snapping irritably out.


Randall's voice came from outside the door, insisting he had brought Harley as requested. Darcy having every intention of utilising that panther tonight. She was one of the few, after all, whom it could not have been. Her assistance, unwilling though it was likely to be, would likely prove useful. That command to send her in was smoothly followed, Randall opened that door before shoving the raven haired little woman inside and shutting it behind her. The stench of cat almost immediately filling his nostrils. Princess, upon his bed, sat upward then, her eyes watching Harley with intrigue as Darcy's own remained fixated upon that screen. His tongue toyed with is fang near absentmindedly as he watched that frozen image. Something, anything, had to give away some details about that pair.

"Dun you gotta chair ta sit on, kitty?"

His voice rose suddenly, those words directed toward the Were despite the lack of attention his gaze afforded her. Had she forgotten her manners so readily? That singular, hard wooden chair in the corner of his room sat as uninvitingly as it always hard. Darcy clearly expecting her obedience in sitting upon it now. Princess, in her position of eternal judgement, allowed her tail to curl about her paws as her gaze continued to bore into Harley near expectantly. It was several moments longer still before Darcy finally turned away from that desk. The vampires legs lifted easily to fold one over the other, his feet resting upon the bed as his mismatched gaze easily found Harley's own. He could hear her heart from here. That rhythmic beat ever so slightly faster than it might have been were she totally relaxed. Her features, however, remained as annoyingly defiant as always. A burst of vampiric speed readily saw Darcy bring his hands together in a sudden, loud clap, the sound echoing like a thunderclap through that room if only to make Harley jump and prompt her heart to leap- giving away that very fear she tried so feebly to hide.

"Gotcha. I can 'ear dat little 'eart o'yours giving ya away."

A deep, hissing chuckle rose smoothly from within his throat. Darcy teasing that stupid creature if only because he could, if only because he enjoyed coaxing that fear from her. That subtle scent tainting the air around them and tugging at his hunger. An urge he kept well in control tonight. His hand lifted absentmindedly then, gesturing to that laptop screen and the frozen image of those two thieves upon it, his gaze hardly leaving Harley all the same.

"I know you 'eard 'bout dat night. I wanna know what ya 'eard. Now dun play dumb wit me Arley. I know you 'ave ta 'ave 'eard somthin'. Yar can either tell me or I can start snappin yar fingers cause frankly I ain't in da mood fa yar to annoy me tonight."

We are rough men and used to rough ways.