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

It was only in my shadow that I'd finally found a friend.

Posted on December 17, 2021 by morgan


The west held far more intriguing beings. Messier beings. Morgan seemed endlessly amused by them as she promenaded aimlessly through the dilapidated streets that possessed more character than the pristine, modern buildings elsewhere. Yet it was the oblivious people that held her attention. People only observed her for a moment, like anyone would with pronounced features as she. Her striking white hair that hung unbound and cascading, near shimmered even beneath the artificial light from street lights that lit both the streets and sidewalk. Morgan skulked toward the bustling commotion of congregating, rowdy beings lured by the promise of the weekend and whatever tickled their fancy. She watched and waited as she soaked it all in, the copious people that milled around her. She listened to their trivial conversations, smelled their cheap scents that they used to attract a mate or to attempt to be more attractive. She followed an intriguing couple for a time, remaining unseen and yet listened intently to their lackluster conversation.

She sifted through several appearances, many too self-absorbed to notice how she changed like a chameleon in the blink of an eye, only to settle back to her own appearance. The couple had disappeared and she found herself at the outskirts of the action. Alone. But not quite. She strode another step forward when the scent of cigarette smoke assaulted her nose, like bread crumbs, she followed it until she saw the being smoking it. A man and yet he was not merely a man. A unique and yet familiar scent clung to him, something so contrasting from the vile smoke that stained the air surrounding him. Hmm. She suffered the cigarette smoke to draw the underlaying scent into her gently flared nostrils while drawing closer, quietly.

She moves from behind, stalking amidst the shadows when it became clear of what she had found was no mere mortal at all. A fae. Much like her own mother. It was rare to find one and even rarer out in the open like that and yet she knew the ploy all too well. Part of her wondered if he sensed her when he began to speak to himself or he spoke to someone or something she could not yet see.

No, he was all alone. How she loved it when that happened.

He said that he was asking for trouble because he was trouble. Yet she found his statement terribly funny for reasons she only knew. The alabaster haired vampire could not help but interrupt the silence with an amused laugh, borderline giggle danced in the city air.

She stepped before him, electric blue eyes scanned him limb to limb.

Yet distractedly Morgan's gaze snagged upon his eyes, halting before him. Whether it was the way the shadows played upon his face in a sinister way or the way the light played upon them, she blatantly stared. "Oh! Such pretty eyes. They would make great marbles. I thought you should know." That statement was uttered with certain surprise. Captivating. Maybe she wanted them. It wasn't clear if she meant his actual eyes or a replica. Perhaps he would never know, maybe if he was lucky. In that moment, her curiousity of such a rare creature earned him all of her attention that was like figurative hooks that sought to latch onto something.

Morgan returned to his previous statement that might not have been meant for her ears. Trouble. What an odd name to have, but he did just say that was what he was. Maybe it was a nickname. Or a figure of speech.

"Which is it?" She inquired, pausing only to realize he probably had no clue what she meant. She continued with a tell-tale gleam in her eye. "Are you looking for trouble or offering it?" Two things both revealing in their own nature.