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
Cull & Pistol
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.
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.
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.
at my feet you'll bow to me The act was finished, the blood magic that once infiltrated the seemingly unstable air, charged like the moments of an unpredictable storm that mimicked her current mood. Her felines remained carefully hidden, as the Risque's complete and undivided attention focused on Tetradore alone. Outwardly she deceptively appeared composed, save for the subtle tension that lingered within her jaw. Beneath her skin was a vortex that was almost eager to destroy him. It was like he could sense it, her alpha pet acting nothing short of compliant to her whims. It was that complacency that kept her punishing ire at bay, focused simply on the task of completing what was needed for the spell. Only once those final words were uttered, powered by her blood the earring sealed shut. The only indicator that the spell had taken hold. Such a simple looking trinket and yet how it was so much more. The brief surge of magic she had felt like a gentle caress soon dissipated to levels that was near untraceable. Hm. How long did it take for it to work?
Risque knew her complacent pet would not be so composed if he had known exactly what she had done, not that he could do much to stop it. Surely, he had an inkling. Yet as observed him she could not prevent the wandering of her own mind, taking in the appealing sight of him, subservient upon his knees before her. Yet she caught sight of his emerald eyes, that rose as if to attempt to read her like the pages of a book in a rare foreign language. She gave nothing away. Why waste the time now when that dread would come in time.
It was better to have the shock of it strike him. If only she could observe her aloof feline's reaction, then! Would that annoying control over his emotions crumble as she wanted them to? Like an avalanche set to crash around his little world. The thought soon passed as that piercing gaze trained upon the new adornment to his ear with the intensity of a dissection. It was mostly concealed by the curly mop of his hair. She did not hate it she supposed, but she hardly seemed settled on it all the same. It felt quite anticlimactic once it was through. She almost expected there to be more. More from him, more from the magic, more from that earring. All of that trouble and there was nothing obviously telling. Only time would tell she supposed.
Bored with her new trinket the she-devil offered an abrupt gesture of her hand toward a mirror a command to look with a striking suddenness of a bee sting. He said painfully little as he moved to obey, his movements almost too sluggish as she watched him rose soundlessly to his feet. The silence within that room made her vampiric hearing all too acutely aware of his heartbeat, along with the sound of his breath. Finally, the sound of his feet hitting the floor as he strode across the room to the mirror with a gait that was far too slow. He moved unhurried before he looked into the mirror as she commanded. Peered into the reflective surface in what seemed like complete apathy. Nothing? Not a single word left his lips as if he appeared far to daft to formulate a word of appreciation. He should have known by now what she expected of him and yet as always, he failed to deliver. She abandoned her drink upon the table as she strode across the room to where he stood, to invade his space, demanding he speak. His response was downright insulting. For only a hint of a second there was a slight tick in her jaw, a flash of irritation in those pale blue eyes that seemed to shift with the rolling clouds of a storm. It was his question that pried her mind away from all the ways she could turn that slight into some kind of lesson. What is it for? He questioned, the first sign of engaged interest. How close it was to the right question. Not that she would of afforded him an honest answer. The feline queen almost saw fit to ignore him outright, simply because she could. "Do I need a reason?" The question was all but bait to as his brows furrowed with what she deemed as worry as if just realizing something had seemed off. Good. He should worry.
Risque seemed far from done with his previous words of thanks. "I found your praise..... lacking. Try again." She tasted that singular word, lacking. She didn't need praise from him and yet she knew it pained him to offer which made her only want it more. With feeling. Although, she was certain it was something she would never truly obtain from him.
The she-devil was so close to the warmth of his living body that surely, he could feel her presence behind him, an imposing force that was content to smother any hope of personal space. A single hand rose to rest as a vague reminder, as her cool palm soaked in heated flesh from his exposed shoulder. The silver from her threatening talons were careful to rest against his skin as if to make him question if those silver adornments would mar his pristine skin. Instead, she simply steals his warmth before she tugged him back to force him to face her or feel the scraping of those blades. It was his phoenix necklace that hung around his neck seemed to catch her eye.
Where was the collar she had made for him? Oh, perhaps it had perished too along with the wreckage of his home. The thought seemed to amuse her and yet that dainty necklace hardly seemed to convey the same message of ownership that a collar did. The very collar she had all but expected him to wear especially within the walls of Syn. Her hand pulled back just enough for a clawed fingertip to gently scoop up the dainty chain. A look of contemplation crossed her striking pale features.
"Did you lose your collar, pet?" Risque questioned and yet her gaze rose rapidly to pierce into his own like that gaze might slice right through his skull. That question hung within the air as if the mood seemed to shift once more as that talon still pulled that chain from his skin, taut enough just to feel the slightest tug. She had concluded what she wanted to accomplish. Or so she thought. But it hardly seemed like she was through, not as she lingered with those weapons so close to the sensitive flesh of his neck.
I like you damaged, but I need something left Something for me, something for me to wreck