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

No black magic can control me and no curse can let you own me;

Posted on January 31, 2020 by HARLEY WESTWARD

stuff us in boxes that's where you want us

cardboard is boring, we brought our matches - look how it burns

Harley anticipated that sudden burst of anger that suddenly snapped him out of his fixated spell. It was better than him looking at her like he envisioned her like a perfectly cooked rare steak and he was starving. It felt way too predatory, too precarious even for her. It nearly made her squirm. Those long awkward moments ticked onward. She would rather that fury than to be seen as food. She could work with rage, she couldn't work with a man practically drooling for the blood that coursed through her veins. She egged him on, the raven-haired spitfire knew exactly what she risked by those use of words, that sarcasm so easily came to her own aid just as it did her own destruction. He could flash his fangs at her all he wanted, those teeth made her own stomach turn to lead. She willed herself not shy away from that violence that flashed within him, lurking like a shark circling her. She couldn't show her doubt, couldn't waver now, it would have only been made worse. After a few long potent moments, he thrust a phone her way. They didn't have all damn night, now did they? Why else would he ask her here in the first place? Certainly, it wasn't just to look pretty. Phone after phone appeared within her hands then, every single one of them increased her odds at concealing any evidence that incriminated her. Yet every phone under his hardened scrutiny that felt like an ever-tightening noose around her neck. For now, she wasn't doing too bad for herself. If only she could pull off the mammoth task ahead of her of making damn sure all signs pointed to someone else. Anyone else. Someone deserving to be guilty. If she was going to survive the night, she needed to accomplish the impossible and not piss off the cowboy too much while doing it. Some tasks it would seem far easier than others.

Don't poke the sleeping bear they said. Harley should have taken that sage advice, those words hitting their mark. That hiss sliced through the once quietude of that room before that hand struck toward her with vicious speed. She was ready for it, only in part. She scrambled to avoid that contact at all cost which unfortunately put Princess in the line of fire. The were-woman crashed into her which caused quite the commotion, the Lynx scrambling away with a disgruntled sound from her that would have sounded humorous if the situation was so dire. Harley nearly plummeted off the bed from all that flailing. She felt the air of that near contact woosh by. Thank you catlike reflexes, she could save her precious face from getting bashed for a moment longer. From that ruckus, she nearly dropped the phone on the ground. She could only imagine the punishment for destroying one of those cells. Someone was clearly touchy at the topic. While she should have regretted the action, she would have lied if she said it didn't amuse her to see that deadly reaction to the jealousy that clearly seized him then. "Okay, bad topic. My bad." She appeased, with wide eyes. Once she was sure he wasn't going to come after her for round two, she turned her head to offer an apologetic glance toward Princess, stealing her spot on that opposite side of the bed, out of arms reach from the hair-trigger vampire. Harley fell silent after that, with the decision it was best to keep those thoughts to herself no matter how amusing she may have found them. There wasn't much said after, the two got to work, with entirely different motives. That until Darcy began to write something within that little book he kept, the woman curious as to what he wrong in that. She was forced to return to her original spot closer to him begrudgingly. She hated giving up that space that she had earned herself. Princess seemed content enough to regain her spot when Harley moved to examine that photograph upon Darcy's laptop screen. He then showed her, the picture of herself and Matteo seemed to startle her, especially when they so zoomed into her chest. Yup, she could recognize her boobs anywhere. They were attached to her after all. That jacket did little to enhance her figure but it was better that way, the fewer details about the hooded woman that pointed to her, the better. She buried that sickening feeling with sarcasm. It at least concealed her own worry at that potential discovery, all he needed was one poorly timed photo to see her face. That photo was too close for comfort.

He turned to her to announce her own findings. To be honest, there wasn't all that much to be seen. The one photo that would have been the final nail to her coffin was promptly deleted with great success. That mention of dick pictures hard did anything but try his patience more. That mention of that being the least dirty thing in that washroom brought a look of disgust to her features.

His gaze honed upon her, heavy expectation clear within the mismatch pools of his eyes. She met that gaze easily, too easy, that confidence brimming with an attempt to keep her heartbeat under control along with her tongue. She could do this. Buckaroo Darcy was quick to turn down the suggestion that the woman was a vampire, that blurry photograph hardly convincing enough to him. It was a long shot. She needed something better, a sure deal. That look of disdain only showed he was one word away from going nuclear. She wisely shrugged at his words, those opinions locked within a faulty vault that was sure to break. That photo was deleted and just when she thought all hope was lost, the next photograph appeared on his screen. She insisted that the woman was blond, now that was a stretch, even she wasn't sure she could sell that one. The vampire wasn't quick to shoot it down just yet. He paused and zoomed into those pixels on what seemed like a lock of the woman's hair. That supposed stray lock might as well have been apart of the hood itself. In fact, she knew it was.

Phones did take excellent pictures but they sucked at taking photos in the dark, even with all the pretty lights that illuminated that club. That was, fortunately, one of the only saving grace, most of those photos were too poor quality and blurry to be worth anything. She had to fight that look of clear shock that threatened to take over her often emotive features as the man whipped out his little book of secrets and scribbled something within it. Had she convinced him that the woman was actually blond?

The raven-haired woman made a horrible liar in most scenarios unless necessity beckoned as it did then. Her life on line seemed like the perfect incentive to save her own hide. Those pesky vampires were like fucking human lie detectors and Darcy was smart on top of it. It was a lethal combination she needed to stay clear of unless she wanted to reveal herself as a saboteur. Harley would hate to see what happened to those who trifled with vampire justice. Finally, the last photo appeared with a deft click of Darcy's finger upon that touchpad. That sudden desire to move struck her, she hated this waiting around, while sitting on this vampire's bed with no true way to escape. She felt like an animal stuck in a cage. She needed something else to feed him, some other information that would send his search somewhere else entirely. That mention of Chase was quickly shot down. She needed to dig deeper, something better. Something believable. A real threat besides the ones already on that board. Or at the very least cause doubt in his own assumptions. "You know better than me, he looked like he was going to have an aneurysm with you in the same space as him." She shrugged, not willing to risk what would happen should the were-cat push it.

She had struck a nerve, taking a risk bringing up his name and Risque's in that fashion. She risked his rage, she knew it. But she couldn't eliminate Cade as a suspect, she couldn't afford to. After all, there were so few players on his radar. It wouldn't be too difficult to eventually suspect her and she couldn't risk that. His rage, potently leaked from him, his teeth grinding as the prospect of his precious Risque and Cade together. She carefully chose her words then, knowing she risked herself from being turned into an outlet for his wickedness.

Harley let that surprise flash upon her features then as if recognizing something, careful not to give just enough that she had stumbled across an idea. She knew he was too astute not to notice that change in her. It was foolish to implicate vampires from her own past and yet, she needed to give him something. Something believable all the same. Just as she thought he was quick to disprove Cade, she struck another nerve, she knew it, felt it. A dangerous nerve that was quick to lash out. So much for paying heed to warning signs. Was it that far fetched that Cade would have his eye not just on Risque's empire, but the woman herself? But just as she predicted that the second seed the left behind in her wake that Darcy was quick to pick up.

Darcy played right into her little trap, or he pretended to.

It was an intense struggle to keep her features almost stoic, even if that defiant look refused to die within her unique hued gaze. How easy it would have been to poke holes in his growing irritation. To enrage the already pissy vampire would have been suicide. She needed to play it smart and bold if she were to make this hypothetical threat into a potential reality. She looked away from the vampire, content enough to place both hands upon her thighs and just sit there, unmoving. The perfect submissive pet. How badly she wanted out of this room. She fed into that desire before she offered him those words.

"No. I don't want any part in it." She shook her head resolutely, it was true. But she had nothing left. No route to misdirect, not without digging into her own source of discomfort for two names that she wanted nothing to do with. "Both of them are fucking worse than this place could ever be." It wasn't entirely a lie. Not even in the slightest.

Yet what possessed her to even suggest those two names.. was problematic. The last thing she wanted to do was place herself smack in the middle of either one of those vampire's radars again. For fuck's sake, the last thing she wanted to be is on any vampire's fucking radar. "Its probably nothing. Nothing you probably haven't considered yourself." She shrugged it off, playing it down, purposely. Deflecting, but the woman lacked conviction.

She knew all too well, he was much too perceptive to let it slide. It was easy to underestimate the pet. It was better them than her, or Matteo. She was sure of it. A frown appeared upon her features all the same. It would have been easier to sell Tetradore out, but she had made a promise. Promises were not taken lightly, not to her. Her word actually meant something. She hated this, that trapped discomfort clearly showing upon her face as she fiddled with her own fingers then.

It was then that her name, sharply spoken into that room that all but suffocated her. Could she will herself out of existence? She contemplated that very thought as she humoured the thought of being able to teleport. Good luck trying to get her then suckers. She hated her own butchered name on the cowboy's lips. The creak of his chair whirling around to face her sent her gaze upward, defiance pooling in the vivid depths of her amethyst hued eyes. So much for feigned submission. The look of his snide face only caused that glare to intensify, her lips pulled into a hard line.

That impenetrable armour she forged would keep it safe and sound even if her body failed. How careful she needed to be to not let them in like a virus. To give up that would have been the end of her. Harley stared into his own mismatched gaze entirely unabashed. That look futile as he appeared all but relaxed within his figurative throne. He looked at her like he was so far above her that she was but a mere bug by his boot. "What?" She grumbled irritably when it happened. That strange sensation crept through her, something cool and foreign. It snaked through her ruthlessly that ability to move from the waist down gone in an instant. She tried to kick out, break out of that spell, but she couldn't, just as she couldn't look away or blink. So this was the true purpose behind his eyes.

She was relieved to still be able to move her hands, arms and upper body. But for how long? That was the lingering question. Her nostrils flared as her heart began to riot her best intentions to remain calm. "Let go of me." She growled, that feline within her began to fight desperately against that relentless hold. Her eyes had begun to bleed to that animal stare that belonged to her second half. It took every fibre in her being not to panic. He hardly seemed perturbed, the man nothing but the image of smug calm as she tried to uselessly use her legs that went numb. Harley uttered out a frustrated sound, her lip twitched as if she was fully prepared to flash her own teeth at him.

That was when he began to speak, that eager sadistic promise easily lingered in those words as if he almost wished he could act out that very threat. She had pressed for this, this willingness to listen. Now she had his attention and she instantly regretted it. She grew still, no longer fighting against it. That's what he wanted, to watch her fall apart beneath those powers and his power over her. He wanted to scare her. He enjoyed it, she could see it. He was like a cat with a mouse, that smile almost asking for her to deny him. She drew in a breath willing it not to tremble as she drew upon every last ounce of strength, refusing it all to flee.

"There is no need for that." Her voice grew cold as though she accepted her fate, but that fight within her still raged on, a beautiful potent inferno that wanted nothing more than to burst free. Was that her cat? She swallowed hard, as she gritted her own teeth. In an instant, those powers fled as he broke that deadly gaze. Relief pooled within her all at once. The tingling sensation returning to her legs as though they were nothing but pins and needles then. She could move them still, she could walk, run, she could wiggle her toes. The woman's gaze refused to leave the vampire as if she refused to show just how much he had truly terrified her.

"I get it, loud and clear. You can kill me with one bad case of the stink eye." She willed for her voice not to tremble, for her to lose her nerve now. She continued immediately. Missing her sunglasses now more than ever before.

"If it's not Cade. Who else knows Risque and has a score to settle? Her brother... he has men and motive... and... more dangerous than that, he knows her. Maybe better than anyone else. What is closer than blood? He also has quite the fan club, another vampire known as Ryker... he desperately wanted to be him, to possess all he had... I wouldn't put it beyond him either. For the record, all you vampires are fucking psychopaths.." She reached out absent-mindedly seeking out comfort, the touch of that other feline in the room.

Harley Westward