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
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
Cats Aiden Tetradore
Cats Harlequin Westward

drop a heart, break a name

Posted on December 18, 2019 by Darcy Blackjack

How readily he took satisfaction in watching Tetradore suffer. Both at the mercy of those pointed silver prongs that threatened to penetrate his skin and too- beneath the wave of that frigid cold water Darcy was more then content to subject him too for far longer than was truly necessary for him to be clean. It was satisfying. Somehow. To see that displeasure and irritation and pain so contort the panthers features. To watch him struggle in vain to break away from that deluge of water. It was hardly as contenting as beating the other man to within an inch of his life and yet for now, Darcy was willing to take what he could get. Risque was already displeased with him, with them, it was hardly worth risking her further irritation by exacting any true punishment on the cat less she disprove of it. Tetradore, once more, veritably saved by that very Mistress he so abhorred. The threat of Risques wrath all that truly kept Darcy's own hands and fangs at bay. The vampire forced to enjoy soaking that feline alone for his crimes. It was all his fault. It was Tetradore who had displeased Risque and ruined her mood. It was Tetradore who had slashed her dress and muddied her shoes. It was always Tetradore. How readily those feelings of utter loathing only further coiled like poisoned vipers within the confines of his mind to settle with restless, uneasy discord. How he would love nothing more than to obliterate that cat once and for all. To be free of him at last and remove the single and only remaining point of....tension within his and his Beloved's own relationship.

It was with those truly satisfying thoughts flickering within his mind that Darcy reached for the end of that leash, those silver prongs near forcing the panther to keep up with him as he moved. Hmmm. Maybe Risque had been right to spend the money on those new collars if they managed to achieve forcing Tetradore to fucking walk. The Panther seemed to have magically forgotten how within his early teenage years. He'd been almost bearable before that. As a child. Almost likeable- before that taste for rebellion agianst him, agianst her, agianst all of them, seemed to become the veritable banner beneath which the emerald-eyed man did anything. Fuck but he'd made life difficult. Tetradore near the single and only thing Risque and himself still argued over in the confines of her office. The Panther was a constant bane of contention between them even if Darcy so rarely spoke out agianst him. The still shaking WereCat was forced to keep pace with him as Darcy re-entered that building, the vampire effortlessly navigating those hallways and stairs before reaching his lovers bedroom. His hand lifted to knock obediently upon the obsidian door. The vampiric cowboy was well aware of his lovers' decidedly precarious mood. Risque was nothing short of fickle at the best of times and yet with those recent displeasures still fresh within her mind he was so hardly reckless enough to be anything short of....cautious in her presence for the rest of the evening. The mention of that surprise within the basement, in the very least, seemed to pique her interest and divert her mind from the disdain of his and Tetradore's presence- for now. The scent of wet cat, it seemed, was the focus of her attention as the key for that birthday gift was slipped into her pocket. Risque was quick to reach for that perfume bottle, the woman bending down to apply a near excessive amount of that spray to the sodden feline. That undoubtedly....femanine scent all but soaking into the panther's wet fur. Hmmm. Served the bastard right.

"Yar right, Darlin'. Das much better."

That easy flattery for both her appearance and her actions fell smoothly from his lips. Darcy nothing if not practised in attempting to soothe those veritable bristles of her displeasure when it came to himself. After all, he had hardly survived this long through sheer stupidity. Darcy moved to lead the way further into the depths of Syn then, the unfortunate Tetradore dragged along behind him as they made their way deeper and deeper into the confines of that underground labyrinth. Risque offered decidedly few words as they moved. That lack of her melodious voice only further proof of her decidedly ominous mood had become and how finely balanced upon that knife's edge her temper remained. How very.....risky it was to bring her to such a room when her temperament remained fickle. Surely Tetradore had displeased her more tonight though. Darcy wholly willing, should it come to it, to offer the panther as a veritable lamb for the slaughter to appease his goddess- far before he offered himself. The heavy mahgogany door was forced open to omit the trio into that torture chamber. Risque so adoring this room near more than any other. The vampiric cowboy so strove to use such adoration to his advantage and return that delight to her features. The black balloons that littered the floor were quick to surround them in the wake of the breeze that came with the opening of the door and yet it was that new gift that readily seemed to ensnare his lovers attention.

His explanation, it seemed, was hardly required. Risque effortlessly identifying that device as she hurried to it. Her hands stroked over that wood near lovingly. Darcy assured that price he had paid for the craftsman to build it had been entirely worth every dollar if only for that very reaction he was afforded with now. How satisfied she seemed. That hellish Queen so uttered her pleasure in that gift a moment later as she declared it better then she recalled, before turning toward Tetradore and himself with that insistence that she more then liked it. How very...dangerous those words were. That simper upon Darcy's lips faltered ever so slightly at the implication buried darkly within that uttered phrase. Yet- he had anticipated this already. The vampire more than willing to offer another in his place. This was the very reason behind that young Fae man within the cage. A toy for her to play with. A distraction to allow the vipers of her mind to seize upon and away from himself. Tetradore, by default, perhaps saved from that suffering in turn. Risque's near toying insistence she had believed him to be offering himself so prompted that faint simper to his own lips as his head shook lightly.

"Naw, Darlin'. I ain't taste so good as one of dem Fae."

Yes. He had thought of her all along. Her pleasures, her desires, her tastes. All for her- and surely not an act to spare himself. Darcy nothing if not cunning in every way. It had been years since he had been upon that silver wall. The mere sight of it, even now, inclined to make him cringe- even if he refused to show it. He had not forgotten that pain. He would never forget that pain. The vampiric cowboy determined to never end up on it again. The Fae, it seemed, was nothing if not a suitable distraction. Risque moved to glide across that room and towards him. The young, brunette man cowered further within his cage in an attempt to distance himself as far from the vampiric queen as those bars would allow. Darcy moved to follow, a single, sharp tug of that leash a swift reminder for Tetradore to keep up, the unfortunate panther dragged through those balloons that seemed to distress him. The delight upon their Mistresses' face was nothing short of clear as Risque eyed her prize before promptly declaring that Darcy had surely outdone himself- nearly enough to be forgiven. That veritable pleasure was quick to rise within himself at such high praise before Risque so commented upon the Fae's youth. That vaguest touch of...confusion so briefly lingered upon the vampires' features. The older the Fae, the better the blood. It was a well known fact and yet she seemed near delighted in this ones....youth? A living Fae of any age was surely a prize to be had and yet to compliment the creatures young age was....obscure. Darcy for now, so hardly choose to comment upon such things. After all, who was he to question her desires? If the Fae's youth pleased her then Darcy saw no need to query it. Her wants were her own. It was hardly his place to consider them.

Risque slid closer to that cage then, her voice near honey sweet in falsified tenderness as she offered those French lyrics toward her victim. The sound of her voice seemed to prompt the Fae to flinch as he cowered further. How rare it was for her to take on her native tongue. How...unexpected her reaction was. Darcy's own mismatched gaze narrowed, if only slightly, curiosity tugging at his features. The vampire was nothing short of strikingly observant of his lover, well over a century at her side having assured him of near all her reactions and yet this....was unanticipated. How subtle that change within her and yet how clear it was all the same. The Fae was hardly.....strikingly attractive. Darcy had made sure not to choose a man Risque might take any great pleasure in looking at and yet she was acting....differently then she had ever truly done before. She unlocked that cage then, holding her hand out toward the man as if daring him to take it. The scent of fear was pungent and near overwhelming. Darcy's own predatory instincts so desperately desiring to answer that call as saliva filled his own mouth in an anticipation of bloodshed and yet- how readily and determinedly he kept his place. This was a gift for Risque alone to enjoy even despite how desperately much he desired to have even so much as a taste of that Fae blood. That sudden question on whether or not he had played with that victim beforehand prompted that obedient shake of his head.

"No Ma'am. Ain't no one touched 'im. 'E's all for you."

A sudden -bang- from behind him saw Darcy pivot in place near instantly in search of that perceived threat, his mismatched gaze landing firmly upon Tetradore, the panther all but trapped by those balloons that seemed to....stick to his fur, the cat's irritated hissing and swiping so resulting in the bursting of at least one of them.

"What da fuck are ya-"

Those near hissed words were cut short as Risque laughed. The vampire woman seemed to find delight in Tetradore's predicament as she commanded him to do it again. Darcy was quick to allow his own simper to find his lips, a soft chuckle forced between them. The vampiric cowboy was hardly foolish enough not to laugh when Risque did. If she deemed those bursting balloons to be humorous- then who was he to argue? That Fae man however so seemed to take that opportunity to attempt to flee, the bastard faster then he looked as he dodged past Risque and made a dive for that slightly opened door. Risque's command to 'fetch' readily saw the end of Tetradore's leash tied with vampiric speed to that Rack before another burst of speed saw the vampire snatch the shirt of that fleeing Fae before he could make it out of the door. Darcy's fingers ensnared within that fabric, the flailing Fae near lifted from the ground as the vampire veritably scruffed him, his foot kicking closed that mahogany door with a resounding thud before half dragging, half carrying that Fae back down and toward Risque.

The panicked Fae seemed to struggle all the more wildly, a particular savage kick aimed directly at Tetradore as Darcy hauled him past, the Fae clearly content to take out whichever of the trio he could. Darcy's hand gripped more firmly at the man's shirt until the collar was near choking him, a sudden jerk forcing the Fae's attention to him alone.

"Stand fuckin' still."

His hand released that shirt only to grip one the Fae's arms. Forcing both behind his back. Darcy's hand moved to grasp the Fae's wrists then, keeping them pinned together and behind as his free hand settled in the man's hair at the back of his head, his fingers twisting into those brunette locks- allowing him to both restrain that fellow and move his head as Risque might desire. Darcy nothing short of well-practised in holding those victims for his lovers examination. The vampire was curious in turn to see just how his lover reacted to that victim when she had seemed near oddly....taken with him before. Darcy entirely oblivious to the very memories of another man the sight of that Far seemed to inspire within his lover.

We are rough men and used to rough ways.