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

I'm the definition of the worst kind of mean;

Posted on March 07, 2021 by Risque

at my feet you'll bow to me
Uncertainty filled that large space like it was the size of a closet, stifling invisible energy that could feel tangible. Her pet seemed awfully quiet. As if part of the man seemed resigned of his fate. As if he had suddenly become more malleable. Had she finally stripped him clean of his hardened shell he liked to hide behind? He might see himself as impervious and yet it was only a matter of time before she found that weak spot, turning his defenses to nothing but a brittle eggshell. How many homes would she need to steal from him? How many lives that matter should have to die before he learned? Fortunately, time was something on her side... and time had a way of breaking all men. One way or another.

Risque's every movement was silky smooth like the feline's she controls, every shift and every powerful muscle moved beneath her perfect porcelain skin with a purpose. The feline queen drew out each movement, simply because she wished to see him squirm. She would offer him no leniency tonight. She would make him submit to each and every one of her demands to the letter. The first manner of business was that proper greeting that he so obviously loathed, that clashed with every ounce of all that was alpha. The conflict made it all the sweeter when he finally gave in. She would expect nothing less. Yet he offered her the barest minimum. He tempted her already vacillating ire tonight, even though he still removed the offending shirt from his chiseled body, it was not the entire ritual she expected of him tonight. The familiar sharpness of her gaze hardly relented as she studied him with an intense ruthlessness, one that he could not see with his gaze fixed upon the spotless hardwood flooring. The very look of sadism within her pale hypnotic eyes would have cause fear in the hearts of many. While she enjoyed the empty pallet of his flesh that so complimented the paint of his blood.. it was not enough. He had already refused her. She would not let that stand. That was when the silver clad talon found the soft weak spot beneath his chin adding enough pressure to force his emerald gaze to look up. His position was still below her and yet she was still not satisfied. She demanded more.

She was far from gentle, that silver talon's sharpness hardly needed much to leave its mark, to sink into flesh. It didn't take long for the reaction upon his smooth caramel skin began to fill her nose with the distinct smell of burning flesh, his own possessed its own unique scent. He was moving far too slow when she expected promptness. A silken threat sprouted from her sinful lips as she kept him in place, that earned her nothing more than a familiar frown. What? Did he think he had a say as to what level she would and would not expect from him? It was the first real sign of emotion from his resolve and the she-devil barely needed to exert any effort to pluck it from him. His features did little else beyond as she reminded him of his own value that relied solely upon what she deemed it. However, he was seasoned to her poison that had already ran deep within his veins.

That soft growl could be felt, which only added to the pressure. He wouldn't dare strike her, would he? Surely, he had already learned that to lose his temper would only make his demise that much quicker. But she would forever be faster and stronger than him. How there were so many options for this to go. All unpleasant for him, even she had to admit.. that this would certainly hurt. Her alpha pet claimed that he remembered his training and yet.. where was it to be seen? Not only did he not drop to his knees immediately but he growled, that look of disgust upon his masculine features formed as if he could afford the luxury of it. Perhaps she should show him the true meaning of it... To force him to roll in the filth, just to see how much worse it could be if she only willed it.

Risque's gaze seemed unreadable and oddly serene even though her patience was quickly evaporating. "Growl at me one more time, mon chat." Go on, try it. She goaded, a punishment already at the forefront of her mind. How tempting it was to try those talons upon his throat that practically begged to be ravaged by them. His blood soon drew from the incision her bladed fingers made, the sweet tang of alpha blood nothing short of welcoming. Tetradore made no sound.. oh, but he would before the night was out.

She drew in that very set with a single inhale, the desire for blood nagged within her and yet she was nothing but in control. Risque's hand slipped away like a shadow only to release swiftly so he could execute her lingering demand of a proper greeting. On his knees. How she intended to have him repeat that act time and time again until it cemented itself within his thick skull until it became second nature.

The feline queen could tell he loathed that very act and how little she cared, this went far beyond mere comfort. This was a statement. A reminder. She expected nothing but his swift obedience. Her demands resolute. It was if he debated the options within his mind, like he had any before he wordlessly moved to obey. His wicked master seemed to watch on almost dismissively. Took him long enough. The moment his knees settled upon the hard hardwood before her he looked down. Her feline finally found his place on his knees.. where he belonged. How absolutely scrumptious he looked then. His dark unruly moppy curls hung forward as he dipped his head in an almost solemn bow. She relished in the sight, his muscular back exposed for her own selfish perusal or sweet torture.

She waited a moment as if she spoke. "Now that was not so hard, was it?" The question was purely rhetorical, her words toying, enunciated like she baited him with every syllable. Her voice was almost far too sickly sweet like honey. Risque listened to the steady pounding of his heartbeat, of the sound of his breath. So loud it was so close to her like this. So very tempting as well as a reminder his fragile mortality even despite the weapon he was. Her weapon. Her feminine figure towered over him, his body nearly eclipse beneath her shadow.

"This is how I require you to greet me from now on.. I will not be so lenient next time. Perhaps I should order you to crawl everywhere for a week so you get used to it." How amused the vampire queen seemed to be by that cruel though, as if she delighted in the thought of his misery. Perhaps she should keep him here like a canary in a cage just to witness it. How Darcy would hate it. She knew it. To have them exist in such close quarters for so long without the other man within his feline form would surely create fireworks. However, that was not why she summoned him here.

"I realize I have been too.... Lenient. Now.. when I ask something of you.. I expect you to say 'yes mistress'.. In which you will do so without hesitation.. or mockery." How she would delight in his torment when he slipped. How she sought for the slightest of excuses. "Am I clear? She waited to hear those words she now expected of him, only when she was satisfied by his response she continued.

"I was disappointed to hear that everyone made it off that rusted little tug boat of yours. I was surprised that it could still float... Until I ordered its destruction... " It was like she tried to rile him up, even though the very lilt of her voice was melodic. "I suppose that matters little now.. " She considered her next words in a manner that was far too thoughtful. "I have called upon you.. to give you something. A gift."

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