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 won't say you're safe this time;

Posted on March 16, 2021 by Risque

out for blood

she's somethin' so cold-blooded with

a deep killer instinct

How Risque enjoyed keeping her lover on those brittle eggshells, watching him navigate those turbulent waters she'd created.. She could see it upon his features, the very defeat she demanded as she pinned him in place against that cracked mirror wall. How delectable he looked to her then, it appealed to that need to control. However, he was like a cocktail that appealed to both the monster and the woman, oh she could taste those flavours, submission, wariness and desire all knotted together that tempted her to play with him with sharpened tooth and claw. How she wished to enjoy that breath of a moment longer than she intended to, all before that grand reveal of his prize. If she was going to have sex in a truck it was going to be one she approved of.. And yet there was so much more to it, more than the naked eye could detect upon first glance. Yet wasn't that Risque, there was all that could be seen and yet invisible worlds that hid beneath the superficial surface. When she finally released him, he all but bounded toward his latest shiny new toy, brimming with unrestrained excitement. She could see it in him, the way he couldn't sit still. How rarely her lover seemed to be moved by anything, but this truck... it was like taking a child to an amusement park. She near eyed him with a suspicious glance as he seemed to examine every last polished surface. For a truck, she deemed it acceptable, even despite its clunky appearance.

Darcy's composure slipped, forgetting his usual decorum when it came to her. The moment his eyes regained focus upon her, he was quick to offer those words of thanks. What he hadn't realized was that perfect trap he all but slipped into, all of his own making. He anticipated she would hit him.. Rather than offer him a gift? Oh? How she could not help the wicked, predatory smile that slowly bloomed across her lips. Quick as always, but this time he was too late to find the error in his statement. His submissiveness perhaps not enough to stop those predatory urges that began to all but unfurl. How quickly he offered to be her punching bag if she desired it. How her mind seized that offer if only to eye it with unwavering scrutiny, to consider it... and yet... she hardly felt the desire to do so. How... strange. She canted her head to the side as her icy gaze seemed to linger upon those handsome chiselled features that she hardly wanted to mar just yet. "I will if it pleases me." Was her noncommittal reply, that predatory intensity melted away into something else entirely. A slender manicured brow elevated.. "Unless... that is a request." She added, a question and yet hardly offered as one. How well she knew he found a twisted pleasure in her violence. Craving it like a sickness and a cure all at once. Ah but the thought was temporary as he opened her door, as if to distract her from any further thought. Pity. Her thoughts had just started to turn... The scent of new vehicle rushed toward her. Mmm, her once fixated gaze shifted to the interior as she brushed by him to climb inside, finally realizing that she no longer wanted to remain idle in that garage a moment longer.

Darcy settled into the drivers seat with a swiftness, taking in the impressive dash and custom interior. Risque was already focused upon the quality of the leather, allowing her fingers to draw over the stitches. She caught a glimpse of the genuine smile that found her lover, a rare sight as he urged the vehicle to roar life beneath his fingers. Risque in that moment content enough to allow him that moment as the pair exchanged a few more words, not wasting another moment to idle around Syn.

One thing about this truck was it commanded the road. Intimidating by its size and the aggressive way her lover drove, sending cars fleeing from their path. It nearly glided upon those well travelled city roads like they were silk. While it lacked the speed of one of her vehicles, it made up in its commanding presence, its workhorse percerverence. Risque hardly seemed to care where the black beast took them, finding a simple enjoyment of watching those cars scatter like mice. Risque seemed oblivious to the way that he stole those hungered glances her way, soaking in her attire that was so unlike what she normally wore. She caught him staring once on that whole ride there, the look within his mismatched eyes like a loaded gun. The man was fully charged with wide array of things that moved like a cyclone within his mind. If he wasn't driving she was almost certain he might jump her. What a thought! Even driving, she almost anticipated for him to do something out of the ordinary. Even with his lack of attention on those now abandoned roads, that truck never wavered. The last question in the world she anticipated from him was how she chose it? Why it was a simple answer. What a strange thing to ask? Did he question her amazing taste in all things? Of course he wouldn't. She knew exactly what to buy, she knew her lover's tastes that she imbued with her own as if she had to leave her own mark so he would not forget whom gifted to him. Like he needed the reminder. The she-devil seemed oblivious to what he was truly asking, the question far too loaded and far from where her own mind dwelled. He replied easily, commenting on her eye... suspiciously halting his own train of thought. As if he simply severed a line. This was unlike her Darcy.

She shifted in her seat. "What is it?" Risque demanded, clearly perplexed as to what he stopped himself from saying. Was there something wrong with the truck? What could possibly be wrong with it? She chose it. She knew what was clearly superior... What was clearly something her lover would... like.. In fact, it was one of the best options on the market.. And with all those custom additions, it basically made it one of a kind. What could he possibly have to say on it? What more could he want? There was an expectant feeling.. One she couldn't quite comprehend. "Is there something wrong with the truck?" This time her question was far more direct. " Is there a scuff on the leather? I already threatened the man.. I told him.. If one thing was wrong.. I would stick my stiletto in his.." She could feel her own anger start to flicker, directed to another that was not even here. Her gaze narrowed to slits, searching for the blemish that was clearly not there.. Unaware of the feelings that shifted and churned within her mate... "..throat, amongst other things, of course." She emphasized the words that flowed through her lush lips.

They neared their final destination. Another birthday.. Another forest. Fortunately, when Darcy parked that truck there was no one to be seen.. Only a spectacular view of the city... far enough way. It was a view for a god to survey and yet... views rarely seemed to move her. Instead, she honed upon her lover and why he would loiter around teenagers and their raging hormones. She seemed to needle at his suggested inclination for voyeurism. He snorted, shaking his head as he explained. How she adored when he talked like that. His detailed explanation of how he slaughtered his victims. It explained why he came home smelling like teenager and death on occasion. Somehow, his explanation suddenly made that chosen lookout point all the more... charming.

A rare look of approval flickered behind her pale eyes, he gaze once more assessing her surroundings with a newfound appreciation or the simple hint of the carnage he spoke of.

"Aren't they all cowards in the end?" How rare it was to find those who could look death in the eye without trembling. How she made sure of it, that even the most defiant of creatures could break. All Darcy had to do was flash his very fangs. One look at them and it was impossible not to think of what they could do. How she delighted in the mere thought that she indulged in that brutal vampire's kiss. Even now the thought of it seemed to bring forth a memory of those shared heated moments.

Risque made that idle comment about that view.. Darcy, unflustered, having an answer for everything. He was bold in uttering his selfishness in that moment, that desire to keep her all to himself. To hoard her like a rare treasure. After all, this was his very moment, why would he wish to share it in any form? Especially not with any unworthy being from within Syn. While Risque was truly shameless in all she did, she was inclined agree to this place of seclusion, nestled within the darkness.

How he got his very wish. Here she was, dressed in those boots and that outfit with his own truck. That had to feel like a triumph. "It would seem... that I am a woman of my word." She mused, remembering those exchanged words from months ago. Risque paused, once more claiming the quiet, making it clear that her needs would not be neglected in any way. How she absolutely refused to accept any less than that. Not in any reality would a man be able to get off without being fully committed to her own pleasure first, even if she had to steal it for herself. He should have no problem in offering her this, after this long of filling her bed. He was quick to utter those words of agreement, only a fool would argue them. Yet, a single question seemed to rattle within her head. Could she truly allow him that moment of control?

Her fingers shifted to the seatbelt, the sound of that telltale click soon followed from his own. There was a shift, a haze of near tangible anticipation that could not be ignored. How aware she was of those intense mismatched eyes upon her with a burning he could not hide from her. How it threatened to sear wherever they slid along her body in a manner that was knowing and almost bolder.

With confident purpose he crossed the space between them, as he knew exactly where this was going and he was a man who wasted little time. He kissed her like she was the rarest delicacy he might never have again. It was an easy thing to raise the intensity of that kiss that was far more like the couple themselves. There was no room for hesitation with her. Darcy wasted no time to explore her fangs, purposely pressing them against those razer sharp peaks until the taste of him had awoken her with a fierceness. He was well fed, the warmth of that prior meal they shared still raged within their heated veins. How she could not help that primal sound of a growl from within, her intensity shifted to something far more immediate and demanding. She sucked every last drop until his tongue until it healed. The first drops of blood within the water welcomed her predatory urges, drawing forth that dominant nature that was never too far to begin with, to the surface along with that want for more. How simple it would have been to cross the distance and pin him to his seat. But it was his hand that reached upward to cradle her chin, to tilt it to reveal the long slope of her neck to him when they broke away from that kiss. He was quick to distract that flash of boldness, veering his trajectory to press a trail of enticing kisses along sensitive hollow groove of her neck.. The brush of his fangs all but teasing far darker wants and yet so careful not to puncture until just the right moment. The anticipation was nothing but a tease to his vampire's kiss and yet that build up was... far more enjoyable. It was.. So very distracting. How much self control he learned even though she knew he was always mere threads away from that forever burning hunger. Her training at play even at that very precipice of coaxing the lead from her by that honed method of.. distraction. As though he could lull her inner monster, cajole it to play along with his own, this time. Darcy used all that intimate knowledge of her body and put it to work. He took his time as if relishing in the mere act as the pair naturally drew closer, her hands far from idle as they brushed against the leather of his jacket, forcefully her fingers found their way to his shoulders before she pulled downwards.. How that jacket could have just as easily been used as a tool to control him. Or even that seatbelt. Her mind was flourishing with copious ideas she could use in an instant at her disposal.

He was surefooted even though he navigated the beginnings of new, but deadly waters. All it would take was a sign of hesitation, a mere slip up and she would be on him at once. Yet just as before, without a moment too long to prevent those gears from turning his hand placed upon her thigh, without lingering too long to slip beneath the form fitted shirt, to raise it higher before she was freed from those restrictions. How she arched her spine as if welcome the freedom of that fabric, to expose the sheer lace of the dark blue bra, only a few shades lighter than her hair. How it was far more revealing than from the photo or that angle she took it at..

Taking off clothes was like taking off that second skin, the one they wore to appear far more human, as if clothing could make them appear any less of a monster to those who looked at them. Risque often using her own clothing as a form of weaponry. Yet she seemed irritated how far apart they remained. The hellish queen moved forward, sinuously invading his seat so that her figure perched, stradling his lower body.. A position they knew all too well. Yet even though the cabin was spacious, it was clear their maneuverability was limited at best. Her ass accidenly brushed against that horn, before she settled upon his lap. The abraisiveness of the sound struck her. Traitorous horn! She hissed her discontent at the burdensome sound, irritation at such a small space to be able to work her magic.. Yet she could do so much more with far less. She settled against him, pressing him further into his seat.

Risque, the she-devil that she was lowered her lips to the slope of his neck as if she was the one without control.. As if she planned to plunge her kitten fangs into his vulnerable throat. Instead, she drew her sinful lips to his ear. Her voice like honey brushed against him.

"Option one or options two." Her words are offered like a tempting game of russian roulette. She allowed the words to linger within the air between them, heavy. Her fingers found his shirt, pulling up upwards to reveal those washboard abs for her own perusal.. Her lips pressed just below his ear, her fangs having sunk into his skin, her tongue brushed against the blood that obediently wept for her.. Her lips ghosted his neck as she spoke, her words melodious despite the underlying command within them.

"Option one, I will finish what I started this morning. Or option two, make a request, right now." So demanding for someone who was supposed to allow him to... lead this. Yet.. option one was like falling back into similar habits and changed nothing. Besides the compromise of having her in a truck, which was hardly a conducive place for their kind of fucking... but certainly not the worst.... How uncertain she was that she could even offer him that complete control if only for a night. Sex had always been on her terms alone. What a strange predicament that she would agree to it. She skillfully ground her hips into him impatiently as if to show him that being beneath her was not exactly the worst place to be as she pulled off the rest of his shirt completely before discarding it behind him, somewhere in the back seat. She pulled back just enough with his blood still on her tongue, her demanding, sharpened gaze honed on him all the same.

you better run

the full moon's rising.