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

Pale blood nightmares to watch the end of everything;

Posted on May 18, 2022 by Risque

The dome came down, annoyingly silent considering how much trouble it had caused her. With it gone, it was like the world simultaneously came back into crystal clear focus all at once, the sounds of battle clashed, and the ferocious roars and animalistic sounds of those animals engaged in a battle to the death rang out. It was a dissonance of war. At the same time, it was oddly silent without those meddling warlocks, yet she could pay them no mind. It was impossible to tell what had occurred to those warlocks to see the dome fall, although, none of it mattered only that the problem had been dealt with. She was free. Risque could not afford to allow her focus to shift and become distracted by the vampire opponent she had already rushed forward with a ready deadly blade aimed true for his heart like an execution's blow. Not when she seized him within the claws of her torment power, that vision was hardly needed when it was actually reality. She put all she had into that assault, with impressive momentum forward to plunge that hungry blade into the sheath of his chest. But at the last moment, he was able to angle his body away from that blow. He was not fast enough to avoid it entirely, that heart narrowly missed even though she still wounded him. Her booted feet dug into the bloodied, slippery asphalt, carpeted in red gore from the previously slain as his chest met that hilt of her weapon, her face drawn so close to his that she could hear every note from the grunt of pain that sliced through him. That look within her pale eyes was filled with the promise and eagerness for his death.

The war would have been over if only he hadn't moved. But part of her was excited for the promise of a far more bloody end. One where she could prolong his immortal suffering to what should have been impossible limits. Her gaze lowered to where she had impaled him, as she was just ready to twist the blade. She had been that close... So close.

With a damning swiftness she did not expect from him, he pushed himself away with a mighty jolt, dislodging himself from the blade to free himself and descended on her in the blink of an eye. That wound had not slowed down her opponent at all, not nearly enough as she felt his ruthless, imposing hand suddenly wrapped around her slender, feminine throat as it tightened like he attempted to collar her with his meddling fingers.

Risque rose her hand to strike him, releasing the sword at the very same moment as it fell haphazardly to the ground and focused on the use of those silver talons she wore against him before he could get his blow in. But he was ready for it, her leather-clad wrist was seized midair, tightening and just like, the pair almost perfectly positioned like dance partners. Only, one erroneous step would see either one of them doomed. Yet that was far from her mind when that razor focus remained upon the man who wanted her throne. The she-devil wasted no time as her one and her only free hand rose to lash out while he was focused on the other, slicing toward his face in a brutal but intended downward diagonal slice across his face in what looked like angry claw marks that one of her felines would leave behind. Silver burned and sizzled into those deep gouges, slowing his healing but not the flow of blood that also bloomed freely from his chest. His once light-coloured shirt turned into a deep-hued red, one that far better suited him. That angry wound that raked across his cheek and narrowly missed his eye, she would need to strike again.

It was impossible for precision, and yet before her hand could strike again, Cade jerked her forward by the throat in his outrage, to bring his teeth down upon her, or rather that was his intent, a snarl ripped from his lips as one mirrored her own. She loathed she could feel his cold humid breath upon her skin, that his fangs were so close when they did not belong there. Yet it only fueled her divine rage. The pair no longer engaged in their previous rhetoric in exchange to be nothing but unparalleled fury and claw. This was her moment and she stole it. She brutally ripped at the side of his face again with the intent to maim, causing his blood to spatter across her face, her hand curled into a claw as she attempted to free herself from his hold and keep his fangs from making contact to the base of her neck.

That horrible grip around her throat only tightened, causing a strain against tendons and bone that roared their protest in the form of a blooming pain as those too-long fingers dug in and began to lift her from the ground. Before she could lose her footing, she retaliated with an upwards jerk of her knee to collide right between the delicate part between his legs.. a weakness for all men and in this close embrace she had no choice but to use all that she had. But the ground was slick with blood and gore and no amount of strength could fend off those vicious fangs forever, especially at a disadvantage. She could hear those teeth snap together at air as he inched closer. She called upon her powers for torment, ready to lash out at him with all she had... entirely unaware of her mate barrelling across that battlefield before she heard that anguished roar.

It was a sound so bestial and primal that she could feel it within her very bones. The feline queen could feel its vengeful coil inside of her like a tightening knot that had already been there. How she wished to see the source of that sound and yet how intrinsically she knew who it belonged to. She swore all of the west could hear that damning warning and quake. She swore she could even feel him in such a peculiar way... But it was something she couldn't even put a name to. But it was there.

It was not a second longer before her mate collided with Cade with such a brutal force, just as his fangs were about to make their mark. That collision set her free and stumbling back, her neck ached from those cursed hands that dared to pin her. The mark it left behind was nothing of consequence to her in that moment. Cade was set back too but eager to get to her, her mate's protective form stood before her in complete Ravager glory. He was entirely wild, volatile and ready to crush any who stood in his path. All control was void from his tense figure as he placed himself between the two warring vampires to protect what was his. There was no guessing his animalistic intent. No questioning where his undying loyalty truly lay amongst even the blinding desire for blood. He was there. But where was her pet?

He could not win against the much older vampire, especially not when he was damaged. She could notice that weakness all too easily. The limply hanging, dislocated arm and the ripped flesh from a bite wound caused by none other than her own traitorous feline pet.

Cade's antagonizing voice uttered clearly in the annoyance of this newfound barrier, not even he wanting to contend with that faced him. Those odds for victory dissipated and how he knew it. Two against one was hardly a fair fight. How she began to reach out for him with her torment ability, wanting nothing more than to scramble his mind so she could have his tongue for speaking those words. Those words appeared to be a distraction as Cade's ability lashed out with force toward her lover. Darcy was cast aside like he was nothing, ripped away from that metaphorical playing board with Cade's invisible hand of telekinesis. It would hardly kill him and yet it was better than meeting his end from the likes of Cade. After all, Cade's death had been declared hers from the start.

Risque was ready, that moment of reprieve short-lived but enough to reclaim her dominance.

Anger surged within her, near blinding as it seemed to garner a pulse of its own, that ability not able to take root. She wanted to prolong Cade's death. Wanted to capture him and make him suffer, to make him know what it felt like to break beneath her cruel hand. Well. That was before. Now, she wanted nothing more than to destroy him where he stood. He would die upon that field. The she-devil would see to it. Her lips peeled from her teeth in a silent snarl, her body poised to attack even though she still moved with feline fluidity. She did not hesitate as she stepped forward, her arm cocked back before offering him an impressive right hook to collide onto the same side of his face that held most of the damage from their previous battle. It was a shame to mar such a pretty face and yet it was far from her mind.

Risque rarely ever punched, the move not fitting for a woman who carried herself as she did and yet how much she put into that move, listening to the satisfying sound of contact that turned his cheek with a snap, her talons embedding into his face. "Wrong." One single accented word, with only a single syllable poured from her lips as she still called upon her powers. One final phrase disconnected from the first although far more obscure even though the insult still rang true. "Vous n'ĂȘtes pas digne. (You are not worthy.)" She said with disgust clear.

That was exactly the moment she felt it, when she reached for that torment ability, she had used countless times before. But that was not what answered.... this was a new sensation that answered instead. Blood painted everything. Blood was everywhere, it nearly hummed with its obvious vibrancy. She could feel it and yet it was like tugging on cobwebs. That was new. A frown formed across her feminine features yet it was that brief distraction was all the other vampire needed as Cade made his move before her could turn his half-swollen face to her. It turned into a battle in hyper speed, the two wholly focused on one another. A clash between two titans. What Cade made up for with his masculine size, Risque returned with a lithe speed. Strike after brutal strike, the pair engaged as it was impossible to tell just much blood had been spilt and whose. Her suit was torn, her once-pristine flesh bleeding, but so was he. Strike, block, strike, contact. It was all a blur, with little rhythm to it. It became all-out war of two engaged immortal beings. It all transpired so fast.

They almost seemed reminiscent to those very creatures they controlled. Feline vs. Canine. It was only when he was lucky enough to seize her arm mid-air in the midst of a strike to allow him to bite down upon it. Once those fangs were embedded, it was like he was like a dog with lockjaw. He became like a Pitbull, that bite barely setting in as she tried to rip free. A sound of outrage ripped from her lips, wanting to unlatch herself. Her powers roared with immediate urgency. Pain became her anchor with that newfound ability. Pressure began to build until she could sense it in him. He had fed well before that battle. She could feel him start to swell and grow, his wounds leaking at a more alarming weight as that was the only relief for pressure he could get from her... The pressure caused from that blood expanding in his body caused the other vampire to bellow out to the heavens, his fangs forced to unlatch in his surprise at this new sensation he could not name. It wasn't enough and she still couldn't tell what the hell she was even doing.

All that mattered was that it was working. Risque was unaware that he still controlled those three, damning silver stakes where she could not see them rushing toward her in a desperate attempt to win, as dirty as a move it was. Her name was a cry of warning from her mate's lips and then for Tetradore.... Yet she ignored it, batting it away not able to deter her focus as Risque refused to give up on that newfound intoxicating power.

She had this. She had him. This was her victory to have... All she needed was a little more and the victory was her own.

If only she had been aware of those stakes rapidly approaching at that alarming rate. It was movement in her periphery was the only indication before the collision of her mate's figure pummelled into her own, checking her out of the way. It was impossible to know how he had crossed that battlefield so fast, his voice sounded so distant before. The force sent her sliding across the slick, bloodied ground. She was left dazed. A look akin to what the fuck just happened seized her bloodied features.

Those powers she had been pulling upon were severed in an instant like they never occurred. She was so close to finding out where those figurative strands led... so close to finding its potential.. yet it hardly mattered anymore. It all occurred too fast in that rapidly unfolding chaos that she lifted her head to see... the sight of the of silver stakes drew a rare look of surprise as it was knocked and misdirected into Cade. The final blow pierced through his cursed heart. His body crumbled to the ground like the garbage he was. It was barely a moment, but a moment that was defining in every way. Cade's form began to shrink and turn to dust like the really old ones did, a single indistinguishable word upon his lips. Something hardly worth understanding that turned into nothing, just as he did.

Darcy looked down upon her, his words struck her as odd.

He caught it? Huh? It was the gesture toward the silver stake protruding from his side, caused her eyes to widen and refocus into a gripping clarity. Those stakes had clearly been for her. Cade meant to stab her in the back in the literal sense of the word. How did she miss them? Darcy had thrown himself without a single care for his own self-preservation, even if that meant his own death. It wasn't just a mere flesh wound he stole the brunt of. That gambling man, choose to gamble with his life... for her. Realization seized her as she propped herself up, stunned just as Darcy's breath rasped, indicating that he was hurt. He was damaged, badly, stabbed by that silver stake and yet it was like he had yet to truly notice it. His smile was proud as if he had won more than just the battle. His face was so coated in gore that his weapon like teeth was a bright white in contrast.

Her mate had clearly lost his mind and yet... how those thoughts began to swirl like a tornado in her mind as she could barely make sense of what happened. That grin of his faded in an instant just as his name formed upon her lips and a warning not to move until she could remove that stake. That stake needed to be removed. But it was too late for that. Without warning, Darcy collapsed with a heavy thud and into her own body that attempted to rise, catching him as he fell, taking her back down upon the ground as she cushioned his fall, trying to prevent that stake from digging deeper. A French curse bolted from her lips. That reckless cowboy saved her from a likely end.

It was impossible to tell if he was alive or dead, not this close. The only thing she could think to do was to remove that stake, it was impossible to tell if it pierced his heart. Her hands going for it as immediately as she could, her grip steadily pulled it out from her mate, the telltale scent of burning flesh in its wake. He had taken that stake for her. Was willing to die... for her. That realization was... slow as her mate's unconscious form remained in her arms in the middle of that battlefield. What the fuck was that? She looked around her to see nothing but carnage and the retreating figures of Cade's last remaining people. Cats feasting upon the fallen, her vampires and weres finishing what they started in those final moments. Gore painted everything. How it would have been a sight she would usually relish in. War was... so messy. It was impossible to tell in that moment how much had been lost.

Fury filled her so resolutely and yet it was not for the mess or her cowboy who remained utterly lifeless. Far too much unable to process... He was completely dead weight and vulnerable and she refused to leave his side, not even for the price of retribution she intended for her feline. That could come later.

Anger drew to the surface as she softly placed her cowboy into his back to allow herself to rise. There was no way she would allow anything close and let live. Instantly her affinity for felines sought out Tetradore, the source of her ire. The satisfying dust pile was all that remained of Cade did little to appease her, even though to die from one of his own stakes was a fitting end.

She called her likely injured feline closer. He attacked one of their own in the midst of war!? She eyed her pet with condemning murder within the pale blue depths of her eyes that glittered with sharp malice. Her own body was beaten and yet attempting to heal all the same, she desperately needed blood to truly heal. The throb of Cade's deeper bite far more annoying than anything else, unable to focus on the damage done to her own body. Her leather suit left in tattered ruin, showing bloodied skin beneath. "You have made a grievous error, mon chat." Tendrils of anger in her words as she seized her feline even though she couldn't. She made sure he did not move beyond a certain invisible point that would lead to anyone's ruin if they so much as placed a toe across it. She would not even let her traitorous feline close enough to punish him. Her eyes locked with those brilliant emerald eyes. All his defiance was nothing in comparison to this. "When he wakes, he will tell me everything. You should know that your punishment for your crimes will be determined by the man you turned on in the middle of a fucking war." She didn't even call him by name. Those accented words spoken with malice, her feline manipulation still seized him. How badly she wanted to deal with him now. But the cowboy at her feet demanded attention.

"Ruben!" Her voice boomed in commanding authority as it sliced across the battlefield, knowing he would not be too far, she could not see that too tall, too slender vampire appear from the mist he had suddenly formed from. She didn't even need to look at the gaunt man who instinctually kept his distance, head bowed in servitude. "Put my pet in silver chains, no food. Chain him in the cage of his enclosure. Have eyes on him at all times until I arrive." She commanded, her tone resolute. But she knew her unruly alpha would not obey without a fight. Even now. Even broken.

"Sleep and let nightmares plague your head until I come for you..." Risque ordered with her affinity laced within her words, directed toward her feline pet. Those commanding words were soft and yet there was no denying that very order or the simmering fury behind them. Ruben waited long enough for the panther to fall into a hostile dream world. The gaunt vampire picked up the feline up in his arms and did precisely what he was ordered to do. "Yes, mistress." With one last clipped order issued to one of her underlings. Risque lowered, controlled, to inspect Darcy's broken form before hoisting him over her shoulder and with a burst of speed she vanished into Syn's fortified wall with purpose to recover what had been broken, unable to revel in that victory just yet.