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

and the rumpus and ruckus are comfortable now

Posted on April 03, 2021 by Sylvester Veres

Sly's blue gaze shifted from the tall, lean vampire to that basement and back again. The circuit breaker, realistically, was probably down there somewhere and yet he was almost certain he could hear something moving down there as well. Maybe whatever a Pretty is was some kind of pet? Then again, Slenderman had suggested there was more than one of these Pretties. He probably bred rats or something equally as fucking weird. Still, Sly supposed, as long as he showed him where the circuit breaker was it was hardly his place to judge some weird sleepless vampires' hobbies. Even if this 'basement' gave him the creeps. Just do the job and get out. This was hardly the first time he'd had a damn weird client. Not in this city. Sly moved to step down that first step behind Ruben only for another voice to suddenly reach the pair. A woman this time. A really short one. The vampire seemed to whirl in place, the man appearing both annoyed and yet oddly...awed by this dark-haired woman. Maybe she was the owner then? Sly stepped back up and into the hallway as the woman insisted she'd been looking all over for him. That seemed dubious considering how long he'd been here wandering around already and ether company was preferable to the vampires. Sly, for now, entirely content to align himself with the woman who claimed she could take it from here before insisting someone could Darcy would be pissed. Alright, maybe neither of these people actually owned this club. Still, the woman at least appeared to be the one with some sort of authority as the Slenderman vampire seemed to...consider the information in front of him. His gaze shifted from Sly, to his boss and back again before he was told to make sure no one choked on a hairball. Maybe he bred cats instead of rats. Why the fuck would a dance club breed cats as a side business? Christ people were weird.

Sly, for now at least, simply continued to watch that exchange before as the woman strode forward to place herself between him and the vampire. The pair seemingly engaged in a sort of...stare down of some kind. Yet, for all the woman appeared to be the one in charge, the vampire was staring at her as if she was the last drink of water in a desert. Maybe this was some word BDSM shit. This seemed the type of place for that. Then again maybe he was just hungry. Vampires always looked kinda hungry in Sly's opinion. Slenderman suddenly reached forward, his long fingers tenderly stroking the cheek of the woman with obvious affection before she jerked her head away. Her clear rebuff hardly seemed to bother the vampire who continued to stare at her in a way that made Sly's own stomach turn. Whoever Darcy was, apparently, seemed to be enough to prompt Slenderman's attention by name alone, the vampire hardly appearing overjoyed by the use of that name before the woman gestured to Sly himself. Harley, she said her name was. In the very least she appeared to be a preferable 'guide' to the vampire. Harley only further insisting he didn't want to go into the room the vampire had been about to lead him too.

"Look, Harley was it? I just want the utility room okay? I don't know what any of 'this' is."

Sly turned slightly to gesture to nearly the entirety of Ruben's tall, imposing figure. The vampire frowned. His raspy voice rang out once more. "You gestured...to....all of me. He almost looked mildly offended. Sly, in that moment, entirely sure he had deliberately been attempting to do just that before Ruben shifted forward again and closer to Harley. The vampire seemingly almost...obsessed with the woman. His deep, heavy breathing seemed to echo within that hallway as Harley sighed heavily. As if this was somehow normal behaviour. Harley was cute, even a blind man could tell that, Sly was certain- and yet Ruban's fascination seemed well beyond a mere response to Harley's obvious good looks. Harley's query on whether or not Ruben was smelling her hair prompted Sly's head to angle slightly to get a better look at the vampire behind her.

"Ummm, yeah, he pretty much is. Ruben, mate, stop fucking doing that hey? You don't go smelling a chick's hair, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Sly was so hardly a defender of women everywhere and yet no one deserved this creeps attention. Even if Harley seemed strikingly used to it. She probably had a pretty good case for sexual harassment. Maybe she should be taking it up with whoever Darcy was. Ruben's head jerked suddenly towards Sly then, the vampire's lips parting to reveal those pointed fangs only for him to suddenly hiss like a feral cat. The sound was enough to prompt a yelp of surprise from the warlock as he jumped backward. Sly, instinctively, inclined to lift his right hand as a monetary spark of flames erupted from his fingertips. The action was so purely defensive and yet that sudden flare of light seemed to prompt Ruben to recoil in turn. Both men so momentarily pressed on opposite walls of that hallway before fog seemed to envelope the vampire. Ruben abruptly seemed to...melt into that fog before disappearing entirely. That was the first and only time Sly had ever witnessed Mist Teleportation. Let alone someone who could summon their own fog to do it. Sly's blue gaze blinked several times before his attention shifted back to Harley. The warlock moved to push himself off the wall, one hand running through his blonde hair almost anxiously. His discontent surely clear.

"I don't get paid enough for this and I'm going to go out on a limb and say you sure as hell don't either. Do you want to just show me how the hell to get out of this place? I'm done."

They could stuff their damn air conditioner as far as he was concerned. Whoever Darcy was would just have to deal with the air con staying off for a few more nights until they could convince some other fool of a company to come out.

"Seriously, Harley. How do I get off the tour bus? Preferably before Fog Man re-fucking-solidifies or whatever that was. Also, just saying, you probably have a case for harassment with that dude- you call."