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.

Bartender Raylin Chike

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
Cats Aiden Tetradore
Cats Harlequin Westward

some days your the only thing I know


Posted on April 14, 2020 by Darcy Blackjack
West
Late Night Devil
put your hands on me & never let go



There was a certain peacefulness in that sleep. One that came from his contentment at being nestled within the warmth of those sheets, the darkness of that room with his mate beside him and the truly rare silence that had all but invaded Syn with its quietude. It had been...weeks now since that music had played and their halls had been filled with those warm bodies eager to lose their money- or their lives. Risques utter disdain for disease had seen Syn be one of the first to close its doors as that Pandemic spread. A move that was nothing short of disastrous for business and yet- Darcy had assured they maintained considerable savings for just this sort of event. Even if Risque remained insistent they would have been fine without his putting that money away. Their spending habits decidedly....distinct from one another and yet Darcy was so hardly foolish enough to query her open it. Rather, the SOuthern Vampire so merely prepared for the inevitable surge of online shopping he had anticipated would appear on the accounts. Risque, in her boredom, having taken to expanding her wardrobe. How little he say any need to complain when he might be allowed to asisst her in indluging in those more...sensual outfits.That near unlimited time for simply fucking for the fun of it having dramatically increased in turn. Hmmm. Perhaps that was the reason behind his...better mood of late. That and the lack of moronic patrons to deal with night after night. Darcy's irritable temper having.....improved somewhat over the weeks. The restrictions of those felines to certain rooms only further pleasing the man even if he hardly dared voice such a thing to his beloved.

Sleep had come easily to the Cowboy, his figure having been near exhausted from Risque's attentions the evening before. The vampiric Queen having seen fit to use him entirely for her own pleasure. Darcy having been all but denied so much of his own and yet- over those years- he had simply become used to affording her such obedience as that. The vampire very near trained to do just as she wanted- in just the way she wanted. His very body responding to her commands. Even at his own expense. Yet, the very notion that, perhaps, one night soon, he might be allowed to have that control had hardly been forgotten. That promise made so many months ago had never left his mind. Darcy had been content to remind his Mistress of it in turn even if he was near assured Risque continued to allow that promise to occupy only her furthest thoughts. Darcy hardly stirred as Risque rose from the bed. The vampiric cowboy was so often the first to rise and yet with little need to command that nightly operation of the club Darcy had taken to sleeping later into the night. He was oblivious to her movements and she slid with wilent grace around that room and too- the soft, silent vibration of his phone as it rested beside him on that bedside table. The man was content in his sleep and wholly unaware of his lover's sharp gaze as that calculated stare seemed to take in the near....innocence of his sleeping figure as she pulled the duvet away.

It was her presence at his side that first seemed to prompt some level of awareness within the man. Darcy was distinctly aware of movement beside him. Those predatory senses reached out near instinctively and yet they hardly seemed to find alarm in Risques movements, that sleep threatening to tug him back under its ever-glorious sway. At least until her movements became more....insistent. Darcy so steadily becoming aware of each of those places her figure rested agianst his own as she straddled his hips. Her hands came to rest upon his shoulders, that firm pressure a silent command to remain as she desired. His mind so at last seemed to snap from the depths of sleep, his mismatched gaze flickering open in near the same moment as she all but whispered his name agianst his ear. His figure hardly stirred beneath her. Darcy had played this game far to long to dare move before she decreed it and yet how quickly his body responded to her presence, her proximity, the scent of her alone was near intoxicating and a veritable fuel to the fire of want that she so expertly stoaked into being with even the faintest of caresses. Her lips pressed to his throat, that gesture alone forcing the vampiric man to take a breath, that sudden, sharp sound of his inhalation surely giving away just how every awake he was- despite his stillness beneath her. The softness of her lips hardly lasted long however, those near delicate pillows parted to allow her fangs to scrape agianst his skin, pricking that vulnerable flesh and yet how even that faint touch of pain sent a near shudder through his form. An electrical current that seemed to strike every nerve to life at her voiceless, silent summons. That very act sparked a groan from his lips. Risque alone so permitted to place her fangs at his throat. That desire to have her bite already tugging at him as she held him in place.

One hand lifted then. Darcy so intending to rest it agianst her hip, to draw her closer, to see if she might allow him to feel the porcelain flesh that existed beneath her outfit and yet- that command to keep his hands on the bed came with sudden sharpness, her voice richly accented. Risque having anticipated his own action before he had even seen it through. He hardly allowed that growl that rose within his throat to release. The sound no more than a sign of his own frustration at being denied- just as he had been last night. The man swallowing it quickly. Darcy, for now, refused to give his lover the satisfaction of knowing just how much her denial all but forced his body to near ache with that want for release. Any release. Risque so seeming content to continue to wind him tighter and tighter. How he loathed it and adored it all at once. Her body arched. Her figure was a sinful perfection as it brushed more fully agianst his own. Creating a glorious friction he craved only more off. Her lips found his own then. The sheer ardency of his kiss so surely giving away that desire as her hands ran the length of his figure at her whim.

"Risque..."

That singular word was uttered as if it were a prayer and a curse all at once. An ode to her sheer perfection and a ner silent plea for her to allow him even some of that pleasure she was capable of offering. Darcy's mismatched gaze, in that moment, fixated upon his lover alone. How she played his body! Those years at one another's side allowing her that knowledge of just how to further coax at those wants. Her lips left his own to trail downward in a near tortuous path. Each kiss punctuated by the touch of her fangs. The blend of pleasurable pain so quickly resulting in a familiar ache at his groin as she teased every nerve into life- and submission. Her teeth left a bloodied trail downward, that skin involuntarily flinching beneath her touch even if his body remained obedient still as she desired. Darcy was unable to suppress that sound of pleasure that eased from his lips once more. Her sinfully sweet words were a near ominou promise he knew all too well. Her fingers trailed further down, pausing at the hem of his boxer shorts and that place he most desired her attention. Risques lips pressed to his hip bone, her fangs coaxing those pinpricks of blood to the surface, her signature mark carved all across his flesh- before she paused. Her French lyrics echo in that dark space. Darcy, in that moment, hardly cared what they meant so long as she continued that path she was on. The woman suddenly announced they would need to wait. They had other plans after all.

How surely his face must have betrayed him in those moments. That want so unfulfilled all but clawing at his figure. That energy having built below the surface. That ache within his groin destined to go unfulfilled for several hours yet! God how he desired to almost beg her. That reaction one he knew she adored if only for how rarely it ever left his lips and yet she had denied him last night, denied him again now, that energy so continuing to build with but nowhere to go as she chided him for the very look on his face before suggesting that perhaps they did not need to leave that room at all- and yet doing so would void their deal. His mind was near slow to understand that veritable bait she had all but dangled before him (the blood isn't in his brain right now, we have to forgive him for being slow), that realisation seemed to strike him suddenly then. This evening and last night had been....ploys. A gorgeous torment. One designed to have him void that deal they had made those months ago. Oh and how close he had come to falling for it. His mate was the devil herself.

"Yar nearly 'ad me, but no, I ain't wanna stay 'ere tonight."

Even if his distinctly....ready figure so told a different story. Darcy leaned upward ever so slightly, his lips pressing to her bottom lip, taking it between his own in that distinctly sensual kiss, his own fangs so barely scraped that flesh, hardly daring to pierce it. That very kiss both submissive and yet affectionate all at once as he leant back upon that bed once more. Only for a knock at the door to prompt that instant reaction from him as it so often did. Darcy was nothing if not possessive in the extreme. To have his mate agianst him here and now only further fueling that aggression and animalistic need to defend what was his. That knock prompted a distinctly violent growl from the vampire. What sort of fool was intending to interrupt them now? Risque's sudden insistence that it was breakfast so quickly cut that growl short. Breakfast? How.....intriguing. Risque rose effortlessly from his figure then, the woman adjusting her clothes before gliding toward her wardrobe. Her every action near effortlessly smooth. The boots. God he fucking loved those boots. His gaze watched, near transfixed, as she bent to slip them on before striding toward the door. Her every step affording him a view of her legs in those skin tight-jeans with those cowgirl boots at the base. Fuck. That image was perfect. So much so that Darcy remained near oblivious to Randall at the door and the human that was all but forced into the room. His gaze was still drinking in that sight. The faintest whimper from that human man suddenly seemed to activate those predatory senses once more as Darcy's gaze cut suddenly upward to eye the bound man Risque held.

"Nawww Darlin', yar shouldn't 'ave. Ya gonna share 'im wit me?"

A grin tugged at his lips then, those double fangs momentarily exposed. The mere sight of them seemed to panic that human even more as his heartbeat skyrocketed and he tried to scramble backwards towards the door. Darcy's very amusement in that action only seemed to prompt a chuckle from the vampire before the flashing light on his phone seemed to draw his attention suddenly. A message? Darcy reached readily for his mobile then, the vampire sitting up as he did, his legs swinging down from the bed, his bare feet resting against the floor as he taped at the screen. A message from Risque? His gaze shifted to glance near quizzically back at his mate then before opening that message. That image, for his eyes alone, flooding that screen then. The mere sight of it near forcing him to shift upon the bed as tug within his groin seemed to start all over again. That image nothing short of...fucking glorious.

"Dats real 'ot, Darlin'."

His gaze shifted to Risque once more, that look of satisfaction upon his features surly giving away just how much he enjoyed that image- and how much he desired to say upon it, later, when they were alone. His phone was returned to the bedside table then, that image well hidden from their 'breakfast'.

"Since it's me birthday, I get 'is neck, right?"


Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet
Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth


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