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.
Cull & Pistol
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.
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
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
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
His body ached beneath her expert touch. Every single brush of her porcelain skin agianst his own was arousing. Darcy craved her every attention as she continued that toreous path down his figure. Her lips and teeth wove a bloodied path. That combination of pleasure and pain was nothing short of exquisite. Darcy, after all those years, having come to enjoy Risques decidedly unique blend of painfully inflicted pleasure. She had denied him last night over and over again. The Southern Vampire's body had hardly forgotten that very release it had been all but robbed off. His figure was shamelessly quick to respond to her touch. Just how much he desired her attention was nothing short of obvious as his very skin seemed to flich beneath her fingertips and each slow languid kiss she offered him. That ache in his groin was pronounced. That want coaxing several soft sounds of need from within his throat and yet she paused at the very hem of his boxer shorts. Her lips, her hands, her body so torturously close to that place he desired her most and yet, it seemed, she intended to deny him once more. Her melodious words near lamenting that fact they surely had more to do tonight. Darcy having all but forgotten those plans until that moment. He could surely coax more from her. Implore her to remain in that bed with him and yet doing so would void that very deal they had made. That deal he had not allowed her to forget for several months on end. His mind having all but fixated on that precarious promise. Risques true intentions, in that moment, so suddenly becoming clear as his mismatched gaze peered down the length of his own figure to regard her. That she-devil precariously poised at his hip. If he coaxed her to stay here with him then she would hardly need to uphold her side of that promise. A promise his own actions would see him undo and thereby absolve her of any blame. Ah, but she was the devil herself!
To ignore his own wants was nothing short of....difficult. Darcy's figure so clearly isplaying just how much he desired her in those moments. His body ached for that release he had been denied and yet surely that promise was worth the wait. To have his mate within that outfit, within that truck was....a fantasy he could not ignore. Even the thought of it alone was gloriously satisfying. That distinctly Southern twang parted his lips as he sat upright. That denial of sorts prompted a frustrated growl from within his Mistress and yet whether that sound came from his denial or her own frustrations at having failed to convince him to void that deal he hardly knew. Darcy's lips pressed to her own then. That very action near daring and yet how careful the vampire was not to press beyond that delicately drawn line that still remained between them. His lips took merely her bottom lip between his own. His fangs pressing upon that soft pillow and yet he hardly dared press downward. That very kiss a decidedly affectionate gesture and yet a submissive one all at once. That hierarchy between them still existed after all. Darcy was ever careful to play that game his mistress had designed. It would do him no good, after all, to displease her. Not when he desired so much from her this evening. Perhaps it was his birthday and yet even that so required his lovers moods to be provided the utmost attention. Darcy nothing if not practiced in navigating those murky waters of her ever-changing whims.
The sudden sharp sound of a knock at the door prompted an near instinctive response from the Cowboy. That near violent snarl all but spat from his lips as he leaned away from his lover to eye that door with clear disdain. How he loathed to be interrupted when Risques attention was upon him. Those other patrons within Syn knew well of his jealousy, his near violent territorialism and too- that almost animalistic aggression that seemed to surge at the mere thought of sharing his beloved in even the vaguest of senses. Risque remained near unconcerned as she slid from his figure with the sudden declaration that it was breakfast. That irritation seeme to sooth from Darcy's features near instantly. Those metaphorical heckles falling flat and yet his mismatched gaze so hardly left her as she strode with a feline, languid grace across the room to answer the door. Her outfit clung to her figure. Every line and curve wasa near ode to femanine perfection. Her hips swayed with sinful suggestion. Those cowboy boots that adorned her feet enough to prompt a soft groan of want from within Darcy even now. Perhaps....he regretted his choice. Perhaps he should have allowed her to take him here and now and yet- how he looked forward to that truck as well. Fuck these conflicting emotions.
Randall was dismissed near before he could utter a word. The heavy door all but slammed in the bouncers face as Risque turned with that bound human in her grasp. That blood straight from the vein was a treat. Darcy was unable to deny that hunger that tugged at his throat. The SOuthern vampires wants so twisting with ease. Hunger and sex, after all, so often went hand in hand. Darcy's pleasure in that early gift tumbled from his lips in that ever-familiar twang. Risque content to muse that Randall had been arly and yet she could have allowed Breakfast to watch. How far from shy his mate was. Darcy inclined to relish her boldness in near all things and yet how decidedly the idea of another man so much as looking at his mate displeased him. That possessiveness, once more, coiled tightly around him and yet, for now, Darcy allowed those thoughts to linger within his mind alone. Risque all but cooed her lamination towards that feeble human. Darcy was capable of hearing the man's pulse rise even now. That fear was...intoxicating. The smell decidedly alluring. Darcy's lips lifted from his fangs just so. That act was very near instinctive. The predator responding to that meal. Darcy content to query whether or not Risque intended to share with him. His Mistress insistent that she would. Her moods were far more inclined to fickleness when she was left unsated. Risque tugged that little human closer to her before abruptly releasing him. That desire to chase rising within Darcy near instantly and yet his gaze flickered sharply to his own mate- awaiting that very command to do just that, else to observe her clear intention.
That human fled toward the door before he so instantly began to tug frantically upon it before screaming for help. That very act coaxed a flicker of amusement to the cowboys own lips. They always tried that. Over and over again. It was the sudden flicker of light from Darcy's phone that distracted him then. The vampire glancing away from that meal only to pluck his phone from the nightstand and open that waiting message from Risque herself. That image danced with sinful perfection onto his screen. His lover posed provocatively in that very lingerie he had requested. That midnight blue colour complimented her figure and those boots. God those boots. Her figure was nothing short of glorious. Each curve and swell highlighted. She was hot. Better than hot. Fucking gorgeous. That complinet left his lips readily then. That picture one he was sure to treasure for years to come. Risque shifted then, that movement drawing his eyes away from the screen as she folded the hem of her jeans just so, a hint of that lingerie clearly visible at her hip as a soft growl of desire rose within Darcy's throat. That human meal so making the foolish error of allowing his own gaze to fall to Risques hips.
"What are you fuckin' lookin' at?"
That veritable snarl was enough to send that man fleeing again. Foolish fucking idiot. That lingerie was for Darcy alone to eye- of that he was certain. Even if he hardly dared voice that very possessiveness to his lover in turn. His request to have Breakfast's neck was met with Risque query on whether or not that was a birthday request, Darcyso momentarily considering how many of those requests he might be permitted before his head nodded.
"I'd like ta 'ave it."
That politeness hardly faltered. That request held within it a suggestion all the same that Risque still held every right to deny him that want. The vampiric queen was already striding across the floor with sinful ease. Breakfast's heart rate seemed to spike once more. That frantic, pitiful beating with nothing short of enticing. Gloriously so. Darcy so caught between that desire to feed and to maul that wretched human for having dared eye his mate with any sense of want. Risque tugged him ever closer, capturing him easily, her lips finding his throat before Darcy's name was uttered. The vampire near instantly at her side before demanding he take up that position behind that delightful meal and on the opposite side to herself. A rush of vampiric speed saw the vampiric cowboy do as commanded. Risques intent became clear to him then. They had shared meals before and yet....never like this. Never at once. Darcy was often allowed to feed only after Risque had finished. That matehood permitted him to exist within her space as she did and yet, tonight it seemed, those very bonds between them were set to be forged every firmer. Only a truly mated pair ever fed together, at the same time, sharing that blood in unison. That mere thought alone was....appealing to him. Darcy was unable to prevent the saliva that pooled in his jaws in anticipation. Even the mere thought of sharing that meal with his lover, truly sharing, was near...arousing.
Breakfast, it seemed, had near abandoned fear in turn. The pitiful man seemed to lean into Risque as if he welcomed that death at her embrace. That closeness far more than Darcy was willing to tolerate as Risque mused upon the meals eagerness. A soft growl inclined to rise within the cowboys throat.
"Too damn eager. 'E'll be lucky if I dun rip his spine out 'is back."
That- it seemed, was enough to prompt that nervous fluttering to the man's heart again. Darcy eyeing him now with that mixture of hunger and...violent intent. He would make sure it hurt. Every single bite. Every single second that man lived in this world any longer would be tortuous- if only because he had looked at Risque with want. He would pay for that. Darcy was determined to enjoy it. The vampiric Queen's command to bite readily prompted Darcy to do just that. His had angled just so, his lips parting to reveal that full, impressive set of weaponry before they plunged into Breakfast's throat. His screams reached a near fever pitch the moment Darcy's fangs all but lacerated that skin and muscle and tissue. That bite tearing through flesh- deeper then Darcy needed to feed and yet he knew well how to make it hurt even more than it already did. Before Risque's venom addled his mind and those screams became whimpers. That blood was hot, rich and glorious to taste. Darcy inclined to all but greedily gulp each mouthful that poured like a fountain across his teeth and tongue. Bathing that weaponry in bloodied perfection. Yet, for the first time, he could feel Risque in every sense. Darcy was aware of her in every way. Each flick of her own tongue, each mouthful she stole, that blood flowing effortlessly between them until they fed in a near perfect unison. That blood and life drained from the man's body at twice the speed and yet there was a....harmony to it. A different sort of perfection. An intimacy Darcy had never experienced before. What remained of that blood eventually held that taste of Risques own venom as it circulated. Darcy hardly minded that taint.
Breakfast's body had become limp, heavy and long since dead. Darcy readily grasped the man beneath his arm, holding him up until the vampire pair had thoroughly finished that meal. His lips lifting away only when he was done. How sated he felt. How full. His own figure utterly flushed with life and warmth- stolen though it was. Darcy monetarily eyed the body of that man. Risques side of his neck was near neatly marked with those perfect puncture wounds. A neat signature of sorts. That side of the neck he had bitten was very nearly no longer attached. Breakfast having been half-beheaded with the force of Darcy's bite and the laceration of those double fangs. Yet- how satisfying that was in turn. The man's body abruptly dropped to the floor between them.
"He tasted bloody good dat one. I ain't never tasted yar venom like dat before. It tastes kinda....sweet."
Darcy's tonge shifted slightly within his mouth as if contemplating that taste further before his mismatched gaze returned to his lover once more.
"Dat was a damn good gift breakfast, Darlin'. Reckon I liked sharin wit ya."
Fight so dirty, but your love's so sweet
Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth