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

knows everybody disapproval, should've worshipped her sooner


Posted on November 02, 2019 by Darcy Blackjack
West



Maybe it was admirable. Her sad little act of defiance. As if some part of her truly believed she would one day, somehow, leave all this alive to dance off into the sunset like a fucking cartoon. Maybe she was simply just stupid. It was probably the latter. The vaguest touch of a simper found the vampires lips as the thought lingered at the forefront of his mind.His gaze hardly turned away from the screen and yet he was aware of that little WereCat all the same. Her sad little heart gave her away with each frantic, fluttering beat and yet even without turning he could picture that defiant look on Harley's face. One to match those words she all but snapped at him as she refused to sit within the chair he so reserved for those rare guests to his bedroom. Hmm. How very irritable she was tonight. As if she had forgotten those lessons she had been taught last time. Defiance was amusing- but only to an extent. Defiance that became disobedience was simply ...intolerable. Risque would expect better of him. He had never yet failed to train any animal she had brought him. It would not do to allow Harley too much free rein and yet, for this moment at least, Darcy was willing to allow the woman to remain leaning against wall as she chose. The matter of discovering just whom had defiled his territory, whom had dared to displease his Mistress and disrupt their club was a matter of greater importance. Even if her transgression would hardly be forgotten.

That footage, as before, yielded nothing new. His predatory gaze, sharp as always, scanned those images readily. It was...frustrating and yet in this the vampire was ever-patient. Whoever this was will have made a mistake. Somewhere. SOmehow. He need only pry it to the surface. He could hardly deny that crime had been well conducted. Well thought out from beginning to end- and undeniably done in the name of Blue Moon. Yet- to believe this was the work of Cade alone was difficult to grasp. The other vampire had surely had a hand in it and yet to proudly display those jackets when they went to such lengths to conceal everything else seemed to ...obvious. Hmm. Perhaps he gave them too much credit. Perhaps that blatant-ness was intentional. A further irritant. It hardly mattered in the end. As long as his darling beloved was provided someone or something to focus her anger on his own life could return to relative peace. Even if that desire for revenge continued to gnaw at him like an open wound. They would pay. Sooner or later. He would ensure it.

That near continual fluttering of Harley's heart was yet another irritant in that room and yet one that vampiric cowboy was more then willing to toy with as he so at last lent away from the computer screen. His tall, toned figure reclined easily within his chair, each movement laconic and easy. Harley, as she so often did, so attempted to present him with some pathetic facade of determination. One a mere clap of his hands brought crumbling down in a near instant as the vampire brought them together like a sudden clap of thunder that sent the woman jolting violently in surprise and her poor heart spasming in turn. Pathetic creatures, these mortals. Yet how very...tasty that scent of fear was. Thick and cloying and ever appealing. Darcy could hardly help that deep chuckle that reverberated within his chest and throat. His amusement at his own little game surely clear as Harley rounded on him like a spitfire. Hmm. Temper temper. That change upon his features was near imperceptible, that amusement lingering still and yet his gaze narrowed just so, his lips lifting ever so slightly from those wicked double fangs so unique to him alone. That weaponry so subtly displayed.

"Come 'ere and say it why dont ya? No? I didn't tink so. You ain't nuttin' but talk Woman, an if ya keep goin' wit it you can spend a few days downstairs again."

She could dance about with her sad little words all she wanted. When it came to true defiance, to daring her to truly lash out against him- she hardly seemed inclined. None of them ever did. None of them except Tetradore. That boy another matter entirely. Harley, he was sure, need only be reminded of her place- and how easily she could be returned to a starving excuse of cat if she continued with those words he found disagreeable. Surely she had not forgotten the unpleasantness of last time, had she? His mismatched gaze lingered briefly upon her own before returning to that screen as one had lifted loosely to gesture towards it and play that footage once more as Harley watched. The Were, he suspected, would have little to tell him of the night and yet she might well have heard something of use being uttered within the club walls or within her own Were circles. Harley, as he had near anticipated, was determined to declare she knew nothing beynd the fucking obvious- and tht Risque had a good throwing arm. That very comment prompted a near curious simper to his features as a soft snort left him, his gaze lingering upon her own once more.

"Risque 'as got a good damn everytin'. She is perfection."

Nothing, it seemed, would incline that cowboy to speak even a word of ill agianst his beloved. Whether or not she had thrown a glass at him in the heat of the moment was irrelevant. Rather- Harley knew more of those details then she let on. Darcy seizing upon that veritable slip of the tongue like a dog with a bone. Someone had spoken to her of that night and yet she was determined to play dumb. Very well. Let her. For now. She would slip again. Darcy, for now, merely content to allow that momentary simper to touch the edges of his lips in knowing delight before that look seemed to hastily retreat as the girl demanded to know why she was here. His fingers drummed lightly agianst the wood of his desk. Darcy seeming to contemplate that question for several moments if only for the joy in making her wait for his reply. The girl having moved closer then before to look at that screen.

"Yar 'ere ta 'elp me find what I need tonight, an ta 'elp me get a few people remebering 'ow ta talk. We got back a few o' dem WereCats dat got out dat night. Day need a little 'elp remeberin' what day saw. But first I-"

That pause was near abrupt. Darcy's gaze snapped readily back to the laptop on his desk, still paused upon that picture of those two masked thieves. What they saw. That idea had struck him suddenly. The vampire abruptly rising from his seat then. Princess, ever attentive to her Master, rose eagerly to her own paws as if anticipating some kind of action.

"Prin, Arley, Come."

Those very commands left no room for argument. Harley so clearly expected to follow along as obedient as the Lynx who leapt instantly from the bed to hurry to her Master's heels as Darcy strode towards the door now before flinging it open to leave in his wake. A singular sharp look was all Harley was afforded in reminder to remember her place as Darcy strode into the corridor that lead from his old bedroom and toward the nightclub and dance floor. The vampire hardly slowed his steps. Princess and harley both surely near forced to run to keep up with that long stride. Darcy paused only once to snatch a cardboard box from outside the storeroom door as they passed, the box all but shoved into Harley's arms to carry before the trio strode into the club. It was busy tonight. The floor and bar all but packed to the brim. That music as always was near deafening and yet, over time, Darcy had simply become used to that noise. The cowboy hardly paused as he made his way through that crowd upon the outskirts and toward that DJ booth with Harley and Princess in tow. Chase was quick to avert his gaze in that readily submissive gesture, the other vampire hardly protesting as Darcy reached over to hit that main switch- the music shut off instantly much to the surprise and outrage of those patrons as nothing but complaints filled the room.

An irritable growl rose within Darcy's throat and yet....it would hardly do to displease their customers. Not when it was their money that made Syn that profitable business that it was. Darcy near abruptly allowed his own features to relax. An entirely pleasant smile finding his face then. That look so strikingly...out of place and yet he had hardly existed at Risque's side this long merely playing cards. He had managed nearly all her business over the past century. Darcy, when he chose, entirely capable of working that room with that ready Southern charm he so rarely saw a need to utilise.

"Ladies and Gentleman if I could 'ave yar attention for jus a moment if it please. Tank you. Now, as ya'll knowin well our club was breached jus recently an our cameras ain't managed ta get quite da footage dat we wantin. So im 'ere ta night ta offer ya'll a real swell deal."

Darcy, despite his decidedly irritable nature was a distinctly...popular figure amongst those regulars. Most men were keen to play those cards with him, most women more then willing to flirt. Darcy easily content to play both when the moment should strike him. That room, for now, near deathly silent as he held its attention. His fingers reached easily into his pocket then, a stack of folded bills produced before being held up before the crowd.

"I got two hundred dollars 'ere for each person who got footage on dare phones of dat night dat shows someone wearing a jacket dat says Blue Moon on da back. Ya got dat on yar phone, bring it 'ere and put it in da box dat me WereCat is carryin'. Ya'll get yar money and ya phone back at da end of da night."

His head nodded readily toward Harley then as several people already began to make their way out of the crowd to offer their phones. Those pricks might have turned off the cameras in Syn to commit their little crime, but they sure as hell couldn't have managed to hijack every phone in the place. People took videos and photos all night long. One of them, surely had captured something. It was merely a shame he hadn't thought of it earlier and yet Risque so hardly kept him around for looks alone. Darcy nothing is not distinctly cunning when he chose to be. It hardly took long for a veritable stash of phones to be collected in that box in Harley's hands, Darcy offering that polite thanks and small exchange of pleasantries to every being whom offered up their phone before turning the switch for the music back on. His voice snapping towards the dark haired woman then.

"Take 'em back to me room."

His gaze so hardly left the woman then as he waited for her to do as she was bid and make her way back through those corridors and towards his own room, that door kicked shut behind him as Princess leapt back onto the bed.

"Sit."

That singular word was once more offered bluntly towards Harley then as Darcy gestured toward the edge of the bed, the vampire reaching to pluck the first phone out of that box before returning to his own seat at the desk. His fingers moved quickly across that screen, that ever irritating passcode dancing upon it. Numbers, however, had always been something of a game for the vampiric cowboy. There was only a certain number of possible combinations, his own gaze more then capable of seeing those places upon the screen that were most often tapped. Vampiric speed so veritably resulting in his fingers all but flying across those number combinations before the phone unlocked. A simper of satisfaction finding his lips then.

"Let's see wat dem bastards tried to 'ide from me."

We are rough men and used to rough ways.


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