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.

Bartender Raylin Chike

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
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

Ready or not, here I come, you can't hide;

Posted on January 24, 2021 by Risque

at my feet you'll bow to me
Risque took her time, allowing her alpha pet to marinate in whatever anxieties plagued his mind. Time often did her work for her and yet she was unwilling to allow something as simple as time to have all the enjoyment. Her mere presence was enough to draw the very air out of that room as her power had all but emanated from her, crackling with the desire to be free. How she could feel each and every feline within that room like a vibrational pulse, felt their apprehension as they watched on, all aware of her unforgiving tempest of a mood. The feline queen was nothing short of volatile even though she moved as calm as a cool, smooth lake. Ah but, there was a ripple, no, a current of power caused by her little alpha pet. He was impossible not to notice. The scent of him altered that room just enough, like a trail of breadcrumbs she could follow all the way to that cushioned chaise he lounged upon. Forced to wait until she gave him even the briefest of acknowledgements. One she denied him of at that moment. After all, she was certain she was going to enjoy it.

Tetradore's scent was a potent thing only rivalled by the tempting sound of his thudding heart. The sound of it was like an alluring melody, a backdrop to that otherwise quiet room. But Risque was nothing but controlled in her idle, slow and methodical primping. As the feline queen readied herself as if for some grand event. She peered into the mirror, admiring her own reflection while her wine and alpha pet... Both paired together, breathed to perfection as Risque placed each velvet-lined silver talon upon each slender finger. The closest version to her own set of deadly claws that she would ever know. The burn of silver as her bare fingers placed each one on did not show at all upon her face. If anything it was like she relished in the sharp burn of that bite.

It did not hinder her melodious french tune she hummed sweetly, eerie and beautiful from her lips almost like a siren's song. One that had little effect on Tetradore other than to... torment him further. But it would seem her feline showed no signs of his aggravation. In fact, he seemed rather docile tonight. How curious. She wondered how long it would last. Her taloned hand rose as she languorously moved each and every finger at the joint as if to admire that polished glinting silver in the low-light. But it didn't stop there. No, she came up with a number of things to occupy her time with, to simply do as she pleased. Her actions never lacking in a purpose only a short-sidedness that others could not begin to comprehend. It was precisely half an hour later that she finally drew to her wine, pouring herself a glass. The perfect way to unwind after a trying day.

Her ire was a seemingly unpredictable thing to most eyes. It could be felt in the most subtle of ways, even in that moment, like a hint of perfume that lingered in the air around her. The uncertainty a withering thing. Risque almost lazily assessed the wine, aware of the way Tetradore peered at her as she moistened her lips with it. How she knew it. Far more aware of him than he even realized. Her own gaze suddenly trapped him as needles pegged through a butterfly's delicate wings to a wall. She pierced him with that hypnotic stare before she began her approach, each step drew her agonizingly closer, accentuated with the sharp sound of her heels hitting the smooth, wooden floor and the unspoken intent that clung to it. It was almost baiting, that silence that stretched between them when she halted before her patient pet, wine glass delicately placed within her hand. The she-devil took a generous sip before she placed it upon the coffee table at her side. Her looming form remained there before him, expectant and demanding.

Only he did not move. How disappointing that the very greeting she expected was not pummeled into his muscle memory. Risque was in no mood for his aloof demeanour. With her gaze as sharp as knives, poised and ready to shoot as that disapproval grew more potent with each heavy second that passed. Didn't he learn? Why was it that he sought the hard way time and time again? Surely he knew that it would be far better for him to simply be that doting pet she envisioned of him.

She considered it, his continued resistance to breaking. Various theories played behind her pale, intelligent eyes, void of any true emotion or hint to what she thought minus the crippling stare that only grew heavier by each passing moment. Maybe, some innate part of him wanted it the hard way? Perhaps part of him craved her callous hand. Or maybe she had miscalculated his intelligence if he could not grasp even the simple concept of what was expected of him.. It was not a hard lesson to grasp and yet... still he defied her at every opportunity that presented itself. How disappointing that once a pliant boy became such a stubborn ox. If she had to force his hand each and every time she would. Perhaps all that should have mattered was that at the end of it, that the feline queen always got what she wanted. Oh, if only he knew what she had in store for him, perhaps he might have danced to another tune.

Perhaps he wouldn't have worn that mocking hoodie that she hardly approved of in that very moment. He would suffer for it too, for all of his inadequacies.

Risque's voice cut through the space that lingered between them, as his blank expression peered at her as his tongue slid across his lower lip. He dared to cling to his defiance like it would somehow save him. His silence would not save him. In fact, it was like it crafted his bed he would lay in, choke on like a cluster of needles she would force him to painfully swallow.

Silence would be his barbed wire noose around his neck. Her demand was clear, there was no room left to allow for misinterpretation. Her tongue drew across her teeth, lingering at the deadly sharpness of a fang as he lowered his vibrant gaze in some weak attempt to offer her that greeting. It would seem he desired a hard hand. Fine by her.

Tonight she would not tolerate his inadequacy as she would crash down upon him like a pulverizing gavel. Tonight, she expected utter perfection as if knowing he was incapable of living up to her standards. A slow predatory smile drew across her sinful lips at the prospect of his failure and just what that meant for him. It was never too late for a lesson.

The sound of that single word of respect was not enough, not even as he peeled the hoodie from his chiselled physique, placing it upon the lounge beside him. Her icy gaze lowered to trace his now exposed hard body. She was shameless in her assessment of her pet before her pale gaze caught sight of that phoenix necklace that served to be like a collar. A reminder of yet another shackle to his servitude to her. His muscles beneath all that taut caramel skin appeared ever more prominent since the last she had seen him. Something she couldn't quick place her finger upon was different about him. But what was it? The same, familiar vibrant emerald eyes remained trained to the floor in trained submission, as if suddenly cautious. But clearly not cautious enough. The only true appeal she sought from him was to get on his knees and bow in reverence.

Her taloned hand reached out, languid and sure in her movements she hovered so close to face as if to make him anticipate it. She extended a single sharpened blade toward his chin in an instant, applying an easy gentle pressure at first. It did not need much. But with how sharp that knife-like edge that dug into his skin would eventually force him to raise his head to her. Ah, the familiar sizzle of silver against his flesh burned began to sing.

"To your knees." She insisted with an unfurling power and yet she does not force his hand even though she was far too ready to escalate. Her feline affinity crackled like static at her hand, within that room that caused every single feline to stir... and yet she still held it at bay. No, he would do this freely, even if she had to break his knees to make sure he couldn't damn well stand without her. It was not a matter of an if.. But when. The only variable was the means it took to get there.

"It would be wise to remember.. Your only purpose is only worth what I deem it. How much do I have to strip from you for you to get it through your thick skull?" That finger dug with just a little more pressure until that skin that finally split and wept a glorious red. Blood, it spiked within that room that in turn caused her to draw in a breath of that sweet temptation of sinful malefic tendencies by the time she released that breath. Instead, her lush lips parted to speak. "I have many roads I might take tonight.. Your actions, mon chat, will determine which one that is." That saccharine lilt of her faded accent melodious, deceptively innocuous in comparison to what was in store for him, the weight of that first threat that pierced into the fabric of his reality. A small tear, one that was set to quickly unravel. One that was entirely true... mostly. All avenues led to the same destination... each road riddled with its own perils. Her head tipped to the side slightly, her expression returned to an almost serene calm. She pulled her hand away, that finger coated with his ruby-red blood that she eyed with curiosity... How she gave him enough space to seal his fate, but either way, she was bound to enjoy the outcome.

I like you damaged, but I need something left
Something for me, something for me to wreck