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
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.
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.
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.
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.
That was something near sickeningly....satisfying in Harley's obedience. In having that panther run back to him like a trained pet before taking a seat at his side as if she understood both her role and place. Hmmm. How unfortunate Ruben was too unconscious to truly appreciate that moment in which his beloved cat so chose Darcy over himself. A part of the vampire was satisfied with Harley's pettiness. That jealousy that coursed within the Southern vampires veins was inclined to seize any and everything within its violent snare in one way or another and yet- Darcy knew the truth behind Harley's supposed 'trainability' all the same. He was hardly a fool. Her guise of friendliness was no more then smoke in the wind and yet for now he was content enough in it. She had chosen the lesser of two evils. She had stirred Ruben to outrage only to flee to Darcy in some gamble at his protection. Perhaps Harley was hardly a fool either. For tonight at least, the vampire was content enough to pay her those dues- but not without that subtle reminder that he had hardly fallen for her ruse all the same. His fingers extended downward to brush agianst her ebony fur. Darcy content to pet her as if she was no more than a domesticated housecat. How well he knew she loathed that touch. He could feel her body stiffen beneath it and too- her heart near skipped a beat in her efforts to restrain its wild outrage at his subtle violation and yet- restrain it she did. Hmmm. Perhaps she had become a little more obedient then even she had realised. Harley so hardly daring to strike at him even as he tempted her to do so with each caress. Training, after all, was often subtle. Harley so having fallen victim to it like all before her. Perhaps their was hope for her yet.
Darcy's lips parted to utter that verdict of sorts. His decision on that manner of Harley and Ruben's...tussle so clearly decided as his fingers began to tap atop the velvet black fur of the panthers head. Each distinct tap so designed to provoke her all the more. Darcy, in that moment, so readily aiming to push Harley to that veritable edge. To dare her to summon that rage toward him- to see her think better of it and control it. To remember her damn place. The panthers tail lashed near wildly in displeasure and yet, much as Darcy had anticipated, the WereCat so hardly dared lift either fang or claw toward him. Good. His hand retreated to himself then. Darcy content to utter that final command for her to shift before offering her that very thing he knew she desired most. A chance to go home. If she could behave. She need only afford him the knowledge of what that fucking little flebag had said before he'd died. Harley rose to her paws then. The panther wandered back toward those cages before seeming to command that shift to come over her. Darcy, once more, allowed his mismatched gaze to avert ever so slightly- if only to watch the blood pool around Ruben. He would need to feed again when he woke after losing that much blood. To allow Ruben a human victim from amongst those caged feeders seemed far to....kind. Not after he had been so displeasing. A single word to Risque of his insolence would be all that was required to see Ruben allowed no more then to lick the glasses clean at the end of the night. That would be far more...satisfying. Darcy allowed the corner of his lip to lift ever so slightly in a momentary amusement at that very thought before Harley's groan drew his sharp gaze back toward her figure.
Sheriff Darcy? Oh how she pushed her luck. Darcy, this time, refrained from uttering that growl before Harley continued. That Servel, in its dying moments, so apparently having offered very little by way of any useful information. A man with an accent and a female shifter who wasn't a feline. Did Risque's brother have any such beings within his service? Was this the work of Cade? The vampires thoughts were interrupted by Harley's further considerations. The dark haired woman once more keen to place that blame on Risque's brother. Darcy's own mind turned over those thoughts. Later tonight he would present them to Risque, once he had ordered that evidence for her to review. Any mention of her brother was hardly likely to be received well. Harley lent more heavily agianst the cages, her exhaustion nothing short of clear and yet Darcy paid it no heed. Her tiredness hardly concerned him. How very human of her. Harley's gaze shifted then toward Ruben, the Were seeming to study him a moment before querying whether or not Ruben was truly dead. Darcy content to respond with a soft snort as his own arms folded across his chest in a rare moment of...peace between the pair.
"He ain't dead. 'E'll be back up again in a couple 'ours, pissed off and fukin' 'ungry. Yar can't kill a vamp with a regular bullet to da 'ead. It just 'urts."
Darcy's shoulders lifted in a loose shrug. His care for the other vampire distinctly lacking in every sense. Vampires, after all, so rarely tolerated one another well beyond those bonded, mated pairs. Harley's insistence she disliked Ruben prompted little more then flicker of Darcy's gaze towards that twisted, broken vampire. Ruben was disliked even amidst the vampire community. A being obscure enough to turn even those hellish inhabitants of Syn agianst him. That alone surely said enough. Darcy hardly choosing to comment upon his own preferences before Harley's gaze met his own once more. The Were querying whether or not she was finally free to go. Hmm. How he could near hear that desperation within her voice, that longing. How amusing it would be to allow her to stride out that door- only to call her back before she reached the outside. How tormenting that would be and yet.....did not pleasing behaviour deserve a reward? A colt broke faster if you released that pressure the moment it gave in. Had Harley not given in tonight? Even for a little bit? The feline having been pleasingly obedient. Darcy's tongue brushed contemplatively across his lip, the vampire toying momentarily with a singular fang if only to prolong that very moment and increase that anxiety within the woman. Darcy so at last affording her that answer.
"Yes. Yar can go."
Darcy's hand waved loosely, Harley dismissed with hardly a backward glance. The vampire content to wait until she reached the archway of the door that led back up those stairs and towards the main floors of Syn.
"Arley. It's easier when yar do what yar told now ain't it, Kitty?"