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

I'm everything you ever dreamed I'd be;

Posted on December 31, 2020 by Risque

out for blood

she's somethin' so cold-blooded with

a deep killer instinct

Oh Darcy could only try to grasp at all that went through her mind in that moment, that undeniable urge to allow that hellion out, doing what she did best. There were so few who were given the chance to win against her and remain alive. What a strange sensation that her mind acknowledges and rejects all at the same time. Surely after all this time at her side he knew the slipperiness of her intricate, web-like mind. Surely he knew all he gambled with in playing this card game, which never was what it seemed from the start. That win and that goading was undoubtedly one of the most single boldest moments in their history. Oh she baited him to him and he bit, clamped and gnawed on it. This was his turf, these cards were him long before he met her. She'd known this and yet asked him to teach her, tempted him like a fish attracted to the pretty colours. Teach her that game only to play her? In a single night this was an impossible feat. Something didn't add up. She was no stranger to understanding odds, of life just as he was a master of his own game. What was she playing? What greater game was shifting and churning within her wicked mind.

Risque did very little without reason, one most would claim to be nothing short of unpredictable to anyone save herself. How she often remained almost two moved infront of everyone else and before even a whiff of it noticed, it was too late. How he watched her intently then, his eyes never left her.. Never dared to look around at those watchful eyes of all those who stared, many of them didn't even hide it. They mattered little. Let them anticipate all the scenarios of Darcy's fate.. None of them good for the cowboy she summoned to follow behind her. That command like an executioner calling the next being in line.

It was going to be a bloody birthday masacre. One need not need to read minds to hear those thoughts running through their minds. It was written all over their faces. A variety of emotions bled and merged into that room and yet not a single person uttered a god forsaken word or else they were to be on her chopping block. Not even Ian dared to run his mouth.

Darcy and evn with all of his cunning had so few options in that very moment. The obvious one was to accept his fate, to welcome whatever percieved hell she intended to cast at him with open arms. Like embracing a live nuclear weapon. Yet he undoubtedly searched for an inking of what she intended. A clue anything. Risque gave him nothing, gave her mate so little other than that single command that it was near painful in the obscurity of it.

Even if she gave him but a taste of that sweet, sweet victory he had won. Did he feel more like a man? Did he feel like he could for a single moment be allowed for that victory to feed that dominance without knowing that there was a cost not at all worth her potent wrath.

She moved like liquid silk across the dance floor. Leading him through the staring people she paid no attention to. Darcy followed. Trailing at her boots like one of her pets on a leash. How cruel it would be if that was her game all along. Humiliation, certainly not something she was above. Oh, to give him everything he wanted from that day. To show it to him upon that silver platter only to take it away after only a single bite of the best meal he had tasted. It was well within her power to do so.

The only thing to consider now was, what kind of hell waited for him outside of these walls. As if it were a small mercy to deal out such a punishment without eyes when she knew she could. Perhaps it was for the mere fact that he was her mate, that fact perhaps affording him at least a private punishment or.. Execution. What other option was there? At least one that was conceivable, if her past actions spoke any truth at all. Although, perhaps there was an equal punishment in that very walk. That wonder that could breed all kinds of dangerous doubts.

The she-devil didn't dare turn to see if he followed.. She new he did. Just as she knew he walked with as much confidence that any condemned men could walk. Even in that very moment, he was above every last person in that room save for her.

Risque led him into that room where he had anticipated that cruel punishment. Her office. That much dreaded silver wall would certainly prompt that seed of dread. She knew he hated it. She knew he dreaded it. She knew fear in all its many forms. She tasted it.. Delivered it. Controlled it. Weilded it like a honed weapon.

She didn't need a leash to tug in order to know she held his, tight. Yet... he hardly seemed to mind it. The only man that could crave the very pain she could inflict. Risque gave that wall a near longing, considering look, those polished silver chains almost appeared to be beckoning for flesh. Oh how she would have enjoyed him like that, his arms pulled taut, unable to use them.. His ankles shackled.. Debating if he needed a shackle around his throat. Yet there was far too many things she could do to that appealing throat. How she seemed to tease herself with the thought. She may have paused long enough, simply because she could. After all, this was the devil's playground and she had no shortage of ideas, in this he knew for complete, unwavering certainty.

There was not a single word spoken before she continued on from that wall, further to that door at the back of the office that lead to many of her covert hallways... rarely used by anyone other than her. She could hear his footfalls, the crinkle of the leather jacket as his arms swayed at his side. How in that moment she wished his heart beat just so she could hear it!

They were just within that stair well, that heavy door just barely clicking closed behind him before she took a few steps further into that stair well until she reached the bottom.. His mismatched gaze was averted in the picturesque vision of well-trained obedience. Even still, he would still give her his throat when he could taste what was coming next. How could she not toy with him? How could she not relish in this very moment for as long as she wished to savour that perfect taste of his uncertainty. How even when faced with his very demise he remained perfectly obedient. She trained him well. He so thrived when others floundered.

Perhaps that was why she could give him this night even though it was not without its own complications. To deny her own appetites was hardly her. Had he not earned this? Had she not wondered? It was a long time since she let a man have his way with her, like any man could ever truly do that.

Did she even want to offer him this now? Now that she had him exactly where she wanted him? It was far too easy to weave those promises to lies. To take back those promised words.

Yes, Ma'am. Those unfaltering gentlemanly mannerisms so endlessly amused her. It was a shame there were so few men who possessed them in this day.

Yet.. what he hadn't noticed or perhaps he had.. He was clearly a perceptive man. She hadn't lied to him, not since that peculiar fateful night. Was it intentional? Was she aware of it? Did she have her own warped version of loyalty still built within that corrupt mind of hers? Was she even capable of that? Yet all that aside, the doubt written across his handsome face was delectable, she could have licked him to see if it had a taste. How she feasted off that wariness, there were some things that could not be helped. She could have purred at that sight before she sheathed her claws in flesh.

He said nothing. He waited. Accepted.

That was when she moved. So inhumanely fast. She had him pressed against that wall with lighting precision, the mirrored glass shattering by that powerful maneuver, the supportive pillars behind it near shuddered from her rare display of pure strength.

She pounced like one of her cats and he could hardly do a thing about it. Only that following blow never came. She ruthlessly pinned him against that wall, making it certain he had no where to go. The feline queen did what she did best and exerted her own dominance as if he needed the reminder. Her figure pressed so tightly against his so that she could feel that coiled tension even through both their clothes. How he attempted to contain his own dominance that he desperately struggled with in that very moment. Yet somehow he managed that task in a way that was near impressive. Yet how she left little room for error.. He knew all too well what he would face should he not simply switch it of.. As he did, like he flicked that dominance off, that tension all but immediately released.

What a wicked game she played. How she relished in every savoured second. What she hadn't expected was for was for her lover to breathe when he hardly needed to do so. It was like he wanted to draw her essence, her light night floral scent in. How quickly when that dominence faded it melted into desire.. He couldn't help himself and yet she knew well what to press, she installed those very buttons. How could he deny his weakness even though she practically had him by the throat? Oh he wanted anything she would have given him then. How she was certain she could have ended him with a ghost of a smile upon his lips. How she tangled his the circuitry in his mind. Oh he never disappointed.

That demand was uttered and little else besides her hips that pressed into him and her hand that squeezed and pushed his own into the wall. Caught in her web like a bug in her web, caccooning him. She could have it all, anything he had to offer her. His free hand did not dare to move from his side even though he could have. He knew better. She slipped a hand into her pocket, dipping into the soft fabric of those jeans to procure that key. That look of surprise upon his features was near perfection.

Her cowboy hadn't an inkling, not a single clue.

Yet she didn't stop there, there was far too many things she could rob him of. As if his lack of mobility wasn't enough she commanded him to lose his sight as well!. How she was tempted to rob him of everything he had. Her hyptnotic pale blue eyes fathomless and yet there was something obscure within them, a flash of something hard to pin before his eyelids fluttered shut. How she enjoyed that war within him.. Desire.. Dominence and obedience.

As yar wish.

"Good." How delectable he looked at her mercy. Her lips drew to his cheek that still possessed that borrowed life from their meal. In a moment, she allowed her silken tongue to lick that flesh from the corner of his mouth to his cheek, unwilling to deny herself of anything in that moment. How he lingered upon her tongue, that taste of him before lifting that hand that possessed that switchblade key clicker with attached to a keychain of a cactus. The sound of that clinking metal could be faintly heard as she brought brought it to his lips.

"Open your mouth." She demanded, waiting only for so long to do just that before placing that cactus into his mouth, resting flat upon his tongue, the metal cold to the touch to their freshly fed bodies. "Close." She pulled back just to eye her handy work of that key dangling, pinched between his teeth. It was at that moment that she saw fit to release him, those melodious words left in her wake.

"While I am almost curious enough to see what my Devel would look like transformed into some kind of... truck.. I would prefer you had something else. It is one.. I will tolerate."There it was, easily missed at first glance, stored at the far back, hidden, covered with a protective sheet but there was no guessing just what it was.... It was massive in comparison to everything else here, its caboose amost jutted out of that spot. It was the only acknowledgement of the south that she would permit, it would seem.

It stood out in comparison to her exotic fleet of supercars.. Only she wondered when Darcy would notice the one that had recently purchased herself. One of her latest... shopping sprees was apparently vehicles. The Turatara ssc had found its home in one of the empty spaces that this garage still possessed. As though she couldn't merely just purchase her mate a gift without treating herself.

But that was unimportant here and now.

Darcy still stood there... unmoving.

Oh, she supposed she better release him even though she might have left him hanging a moment or two longer that utterly necessary. After all, she refused to allow him to get away completely from defeating her without... something. That the vampire queen was very certain not to forget anytime soon. Risque's mind was like a database when it came to remembering things that rubbed her wrong... and this was undoubtedly stashed away... for now. For nothing was secure when it came to her. Who would she be if she didn't keep him on uneven ground?

"You may open your eyes.. Go on, claim your winnings, it is all yours." Whatever she meant by that... she didn't elaborate, after all, surely he would want to drive his new gift first. She nodded to the direction of where the large imposing black truck was, one he would need to unwrap that cover in order to see.

Perhaps that would be enough and he would forget all about those silly requests. Maybe when hell froze over. But then again... she had given him a truck in his own name. His. Through and through. Whatever was this world coming to? Risque studied him astutely as if she wasn't sure how he was going to react. This was undoubtedly... new territory for them both.

How her own actions... seemed to baffle her. A party.. A truck.. And even stranger... those looming requests on his terms. If she could hardly stand the idea of losing a game of cards, how was she going to allow him this? Giving up a sliver of her control was by far... the greatest thing he had been offered. It was a simple thing really.. And yet when was anything simple when it came to her?

At least in this... she was certain they both looked forward to the undeniably delectable leathery smell of new car that awaited him.

you better run

the full moon's rising.