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

my church offers no absolutes

Posted on May 11, 2020 by Darcy Blackjack

It was an art form. He was sure of it. Breaking someone down piece by tiny piece. They resisted at first, but they always did- at least until several layers had been chipped away and they steadily became more and more vulnerable. Until that metaphorical blood in the water became a veritable stream. Harley made it a game. Whether or not she had intended it he hardly knew and yet, Tetradore aside, there were very few who managed to play that game for long. The defiant woman was a toy that did not break. That refused to break. And oh how he delighted in that all the more. She would snap eventually, they always did and yet her defiant determination only made her all the more intriguing to toy with. All the more satisfying to tear apart piece by piece. Like a colt that refused the saddle over and over and over again. How utterly....delicious that defiance was. How distinctly satisfying to force her to feel the true capabilities of his power. Those tendrils that slowly crept through her body were no more than a taste of what he was truly capable of and yet that mere taste was enough to send her little heart fluttering in anticipation of just what he might do. How bold her bravado was and yet....she was such a little.....liar. It was painfully easy to hold her there, keep her there, force her to offer him that respected title of 'sir' only because he could. How poor her manners were. Far too poor for a pet, he was sure of it. Perhaps he could fix that tonight.

That very demand seemed to near singe woman's pride. He could sense her distaste for it even now and yet what choice did she have but to bow to his very will? Had Harley truly not yet learned that it was better to appease him then defy him? That Risque would accept nothing short of total obedience? He was kind when compared to that vampiric Queen. Did Harley truly not see it? Not value it? Perhaps he had been too kind. He had barely beaten her at all. Maybe pain would teach her what an idle threat would not and yet that veritable blow to her pride seemed to be working wonders all the same. The WerePanther all but choked on those words as she offered them, wrapped within an insult and yet there all the same. The briefest of satisfied chuckles rose within the vampire's throat. Darcy momentarily allowed a simper to find his features.
"Good, Kitty."

That praise was nothing short of flippant, derogatory and hardly praise in any true sense. Darcy's gaze in that moment refused t brek from her own. His mismatched eyes holding her firmly in place. A captive audience for that tale he was content to tell. The vampire content to inform his sad little toy that this was hardly as bad as it got. That it could and would get so very much worse. Did she truly seek to defy him enough to force him to use his own affinities again? To hold her in place while he tore her apart? She could be as defiant as she chose. It would only bring him more satisfaction to bring her own as he had done all before her. Risque had not permitted him to live this long because he was poor at his task. Harley would break like the rest of them. Whether she broke easy or hard was entirely at her own discretion. She would be the destruction in her own sad little life. The sooner she learned that- the better. Yet how entertaining it was to rile her. To let her struggle. To let her feel helpless.How tempting it was to taste her blood when that fear was so potent. Darcy swallowed. That action decidedly visible. An attempt to control his own desires for now. There would be time to toy with her further later. Her words sputtered from her lips once more. Harley attempted to conceal her fear behind that bravado once more and yet that 'sir' still found its way into her words. That lesson, it seemed, well imparted. A look of near sinful satisfaction danced upon the Southern Vampires features once. Darcy allowed her to struggle for several more moments before abruptly releasing her from his hold. His gaze looking away. Harley tossed aside like the toy she was.

He was nothing if not focused on that singular task of unraveling the puzzle he had been given. To toy with Harley was merely a detour on that path. The vampire's mind hardly having forgotten its purpose or goal. Indeed the Southern vampire continued to turn those ideas about within the confines of his thoughts. So many possibilites, so many variables and yet....the sudden sound of purring readily seemed to ensnare his attention then. Darcy's gaze cut sideways. Harley's fingers stroked through the silvered fur of his own pet. Princess, in her satisfaction, seemed content to purr. How deeply that jealous ran within the vampire. Like a potent, violent curse that infected every part of his being. How dare Princess.....betray him like this. The animal's name was snapped like the crack of a whip. Princess, sensing her master's clear displeasure, was quick to flee from the bed as a growl rose within his throat. Had that been Harley's plan? Tp turn his pet agianst him? Darcy's gaze narrowed once more. That very thought turned within his mind before he cast it aside- for now. He would hardly forget that betrayal. Later. He would deal with it later. For now the matter of Risques brother and this...Ryker being required his attention. That command for Harley to speak, this time, seemed to prompt the woman to do as asked.

Darcy's fingers continued to drum agianst that desk. The vampire's gaze fixated upon the little Kitten once more as she offered something of an explanation of this 'Ryker'. Some deluded fool of a vampire who believed he could seize what Nathaniel had left behind. That connection t Risques brother once more however prompted a soft snort of irritation from within the cowboy. Matters with Nathenial were not his to investigate. Risque would not tolerate his prying into her family without her avid consent. A consent he knew would not be given- as was her right. Such information was better given to her to allow her to decide what she would do with it. Darcy, for now, was content to store those veritable theories to offer his Mistress later.Harley's insistence that Ryker had 'the hots' for Risque however was another matter entirely.

"Day all got da 'ots for 'er. She is perfection. Day can't 'ave 'er though."

Another growl rose within the depths of his throat. Those words darkly cold in their utterance as Darcy seemed to contemplate his own lack of ability to share for several long moments before he rose abruptly from his seat. That command for Harley to follow was uttered in near the same breath. The vampire, for now, oblivious to those connections Harley had kept hidden from him. Rather- his mind had chosen a different track to follow. One he was sure might prove wholly fruitful if given the chance. Darcy moved with single-minded purpose. The vampire simply expected his companion to follow as commanded. The man hardly cared that Harley was near forced to run to keep up with him as they moved within the twisted innards that made up the depths of Syn itself. There was still one final string to tug at. One final tendril of that tale to be told. Harley would prove she had a use tonight if nothing else and yet that very plan so required them to delve into that darkness of the dungeon once more. That megenerige of cages so strikingly....empty in comparison to what it had been before. They had recovered only one of those WereCats and a handful of those genuine animals. All their Feeders had been lost. That new stock they had now reduced to a few unfortunate individuals Darcy had been able to buy from the Auction House after they had been passed in. Their blood was....subpar at best and yet until that Auction ran again they would have to make do.

Darcy strode further and further into that damp darkness, the vampire already assured that RUben lingered nearby. The other vampire simply having seen no reason to show himself yet. A single, sharp command for the man to appear was all it took to bring him scuttling from the darkness like the insect he was. EVen Darcy himself was inclined to admit that Ruebn was....distasteful. The spindly, gangly man with his weather, sunken features was....ugly on a good day and damn near monsterous on a bad. Whatever his shortcomings in appearance however he had never failed to take....adequate care of those cats and feeders.Risque swore she would have no one else. That Ruben was by far the only man for the job. Perhaps she merely kept him down here because he was far to ugly to walk around Syn itself. Then again- the man seemed to relish in his work. His warped little mind was near as possessive of those cats as Risque. How it hardly took long for him to notice Harley. Ruben's perverted little mind seeming to delight at her sudden presence. The gangly vampire became fascinated with her. His gaze was unable to look away. His hands veritable twitching with his desire to pet her until even Darcy felt the first taint of disgust upon his tongue. That single, sharp warning he delivered a reminder to the man to keep his hands to himself. The strike agianst Rubens' hand sent the man scuttling backward. Yet...how readily Ruben considered that retaliation...if only for a moment. The tension within the air seemed to rise as Darcy's own lips lifted from his fangs. Those vampires momentarily facing one another before Ruben's figure seemed to slump and give.His gaze turned away in submission to the far stronger force that was Darcy. Those vampiric politics were nothing of not...brutal at times. The hierarchy one they all so silently obeyed.

Now it was merely a manner of having Ruben do as asked of him. Darcy sought to draw Ruben's mind away from his own sick fascination with Harley long enough to explain that plan. They had recovered one WereFeline from that night. One witness. Trapped so irritatingly in feline form and yet- Harley was capable of talking to it was she not? He merely needed to demand she did so even if there was every chance that wretch of a woman would not offer him the truth of the other feline's words. Would Harley truly be so foolish as to lie? Perhaps. Yet what did she have to gain from a lie? She had not been involved in that incident. Her life was hardly in danger. She would not seek to save strangers unless she knew them- which implicated her in turn. How neatly he had set that trap. To lie to him would bring herself into question and oh he would discover if she had lied one way or another. She had not been involved, how certain he was of it, which meant she would tell him nothing but the truth. Anything less would be...suspicious. How little he said of his own inner considerations in that moment as Ruben was ordered to do as he desired. Harley, for once, seemed content to keep up as if Darcy himself was preferable to Ruben as those cages The vampiric cowboy, for now, merely content to allow RUben to lead them further into that darkness.

Harley, for her part, was content to run her mouth once more. The woman foolish enough to insist Darcy surely needed her. His very threat to leave her here hardly seeming to have been taken seriously as she held up her finger and thumb in some effort to insist he surely needed her a tiny bit. That very gesture alone so prompting the vampire's gaze to narrow once more.

"I am dis close to replacing you wit Tetradore. He talks less den you."

Did she truly believe she was not instantly replaceable? It would be easy to have Tetradore summoned. The Panther would hardly lie. Risque would assure it. How unwise it would be of Harley to continue to prove how...un-useful she was with her distinctly irritable nature. A final growl of warning was offered towards the dark-haired woman as the trio at last came to that row of cages Ruben deemed to belong to the cat in question that Darcy had demanded to speak with- or what was left of him. That Servel was no more than a pile of skin and bone. Its coat and eyes dull as it lay huddled in a far corner of the cage on what bit of straw bedding remained. Was the fucking thing even alive? Darcy's gaze cut sideways once more and toward Ruben, his arms folding across his chest in clear anticipation. Ruben, in the very least, took that non-veral signal as he hurried forward and toward the cage. The lanky vampire reached for a short silver stick at his belt, the rubber handle protecting Ruben himself from the bite of the silver as he snapped that stick outward until it grew in length. Long enough to allow the vampire to poke it through those bars and jab at the Serval. Harley's uttered words hardly drew Darcy's gaze away from that spectacle. The vampire watching with emotionless curiosity as Ruben answered that question instead. This Pretty has been very bad, very bad. When they are bad they make Mistress so sad and then I am sad. When I am sad I must make them sad. I made him sad. But I will make him well again and he will not be bad again.

Darcy's own lip curled in distaste at the ramblings of that demented fool he continued to poke at the emaciated Serval. The creature at last seemed to respond to that silver as its head rose weakly. There was nothing left of this one. Ruden had gone too far. Again. Could this thing even talk? Ruben, as if sensing Darcy's clear dissatisfaction jabbed more forcefully at that Serval until it was forced to stand on its feet. Pretty, they want to talk to you Pretty. Oh look, look how you stand! I knew you could do it. Very good, very good. I will give you food tonight. Talk to Mr Darcy now, yes, yes, and the other Pretty. Such a lovely Pretty. Rubens gaze had, once more, fixated upon Harley with longing. Darcy shifted, that movement was near impercitable and yet his figure now blocked Harley from Rubens' sight. Harley was his pet after all. Not Rubens. That infamous jealousy that tore at his very veins for the first time so working.....in Harleys favour. Darcy content to defend....to protect.....what was his from the other vampire. That silent act readily seemed to weaken Ruben further as he stood up to step back from the cage. Darcy's attention turned to Harley. That pathetic little Serval hardly seeming to so much as register upon his radar. He could smell death upon it. It was hardly long for this world. Ruben, surely, could not even save this one. Risque long ago having lost interest within it. Hmmm. Perhaps he might replace it for her. Perhaps a black one. Something exotic, expensive and more tasteful then this sad sack of bone.

"Find out what he knows 'Arley. Da faster da better. Da fuckin' tings 'bout to die."

Darcy's fingers flicked loosely towards that Serval with the clear anticipation Harley would do as asked. She can't speak to it like that. She needs to shift too. Rubens voice cut through that momentary silence. That vaugest hint of surprise flickers briefly onto Darcy's features. Ruben, he was certain, would know. Darcy himself hardly spent enough time paying attention to those felines to understand those nuances. Harley, surely, had not been about to attempt to fool him had she.


That single command left no room for argument. Both vampires were content to stare blantalty towards her then in clear anticipation.

We are rough men and used to rough ways.