West

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
Syn

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

Syn

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

not a yes sir, not a follower


Posted on August 24, 2022 by Darcy Blackjack
West

I am what she made me
her words are spiderwebs inside my head




Risque was a difficult woman to read at the best of times. Her moods were as fickle as her emotions. Her wants, her desires- each was prone to changing upon a mere whim and yet Darcy had spent more than a century at her side. He knew her as well as any being surely ever had. That fascination she had held with that Fae had not merely been his imagination. No. Tetradore had seen it too. The sad little Were had nothing to gain by admitting that truth. Darcy, in turn, so readily allowed those contemplations to turn within the ravaged depraved depths of his own mind. How he was loath to share his mistress with anyone. Perhaps, once, long ago, he too had suffered at her hands and yet over time those punishments had lessened. Darcy was content to believe that surely this was a result of her affection for him having grown over time- and how he relished it. Her attention, her affections, her favours. Risque was the veritable sun his earth orbited around. He knew her well, more than well- and yet this Fae was unanticipated. Unexpected. She held no Fae friends. He was certain of it. Darcy, in that moment, was near oblivious to Tetradore's own ploy. The very notion that the Panther knew him well enough to so purposefully fixate his mind upon those paranoid thoughts had hardly occurred to him. Tetradore fed into those obsessions, his every word so designed to push the vampire towards his own mental disdain. Darcy's utter possessiveness over his lover, his jealousy, so eternally the vampires weakness. One he remained all but blind towards.

Darcy's tongue brushed over his sharpened fangs in contemplation. Risque had looked at that Fae as if she had known him, as if she intended to enjoy him, she had spoken to him within her own language as if she had anticipated the Fae might answer. Yet the fae himself had appeared equally baffled. How...unlike Risque it was. That Tetradore had, momentarily, thrown that suspicion for his own actions from himself hardly occurred to the Southern cowboy. Darcy, for now, far more fixated upon his own lover before his mismatched gaze cut abruptly to the Were beside him. There were times, rare though they were, that Tetradore, in his animal form, was alone with Risque in her office. The Panther afforded that undeserved luxury of basking within her presence as she conducted her business. Had she shown this level of fascination with other men? How that...displeased him. Hmmm. Something would need be done about it. Darcy,for near as long as he had existed at Risque side had taken to....eliminating others from it. The Southern cowboy alone determined to remain the single and only man of importance in Risques life. Tetradore the sole exception. Risques veritable...fascination with him all that prevented Darcy from ripping out the Panther's spine. His sudden command for the names of these other men Risque so apparently did business with seemed to spark Tetradore's own irritation. The panther insisted he hardly knew.insufferable little wretch. What fucking good was he? Did he pay no attention at all to what Risque did? A vampire in the west, a warlock in the east, was that all the damned idiot remembered?

"Yar was born a fucking waste o'space, Tetradore. Ya ain't improved over time- yar just took up more space."

Darcy's words held that near same bite of irritation to them. A subtle warning for the Were to remember his goddamn place. Darcy's fingers tapped near rhythmically agianst the wooden work bench then. His mind content to turn those facts over and over. Was she seeing other men? Surely not.She had taken him for a mate. That alone spoke of a certain expectation of monogamy, didn't it? They had hardly ever discussed it and yet Darcy ahd near assumed it was an implication. Perhaps he had been a fool to believe Risue would limit herself to merely one man when she could surely have any she desired. That irritation within the vampire only seemed to fester more potently. Other men, unusual Fae, none of it made any damned sense. That hardly changed the fact however that Tetradore still owed him for the Fae he'd murdered. How certain he was he could find a way for the other man to pay that back. Tetradore's response far more cutting then Darcy deemed acceptable as a final, warning growl vibrated within the vampires throat.

"Oh yes yar fuckin' are."

He would get that money back from Tetradore one way or the other. The Were could merely co-operate- or be forced too. How Darcy nearly hoped he chose not to cooperate. If only for the very lisence it would give him to torture the other man just a little more. To make his life just that bit harder. He hardly needed that cash, he had plenty of it. This was merely an excuse exact all the more vengeance agianst the only other man in Risques life he was forced to tolerate. Tetradore's mere existence was an irritation Darcy held every plan to one day eradicate. How the dreams of what he would do to Tetradore danced within his mind's eye every night. One day the panther would slip. One day he would falter. One day Risque would remove her protection and favouritism from him and oh how Darcy would be waiting. It was that very favouritism however that prompted Darcy's unyielding mismatched gaze to narrow ever so slightly upon Tetradore once more. There had been a time once, when Risque had taken Tetradore to her bed. Over and over. Were they still doing it now? That singular act had been the final nail in the veritable coffin of any....peaceable relationship Darcy may ever have fostered with the other man he had found almost tolerable as a child. Risque's sexual relationship with Tetradore was a distinctly sore and potent point for them both. That very act alone was the metaphorical eye of the storm of disdain the vampire felt for the WerePet. Tetradore's sharply uttered no betrayed the disdain the panther felt for that act. For even the question itself. Darcy, this time, willing to ignore tetradore's tone if only because the answer satisfied him. Good.

How surely Darcy might have been content to leave that line of questioning behind, his own loathing for it momentarily soothed and yet Tetradore, this time, was the one to make that fatal mistake. The panthers words were a veritable lash of salt to an open wound. The younger man incapable of holding back as he rebelled agianst the torment that questioning alone had stirred within his mind. His words akin to throwing fuel atop flames.

"What da fuck did yar just say yar lil bitch!?'

Those words were spat with an undeniable venom. The outrage within the vampire was clear. Tetradore had crossed a line. A distinctly dangerous one. One so few ever dared to even tread towards let alone strike agianst. Darcy's sexual relationship with Risque was a distinctly....private affair. That suggestion that he was failing to satisfy her so seeming to prompt a near...nuclear reaction within the already short-tempered vampire. Darcy whirled near instantly, his hand attempting to seize Tetradore by the throat and pin the Were up agianst the wall with enough force to crack that plaster behind it. His feet lifted from the ground and left flailing. Darcy's fingers tightened, his grip threatening to crush Tetradore's trachea with every passing second- the panther offered less and less air. Darcy's lips pulled back from his fangs, the vampire leaning distinctly close, the cold air of his breath brushing over the other man with every quietly uttered syllable. His gaze hardly wavered, his grip like iron agianst the Panthers throat

"Say it again, Tetradore. I fukin' dare ya."

A near vicious snarl rose within the vampires throat. Darcy seeming too teeter precariously upon that ledge of control. How close it was to snapping entirely. How it took every fibre within his being to prevent himself from slamming Tetradore into that wall over and over, to stop himself crushing the pants neck. His vice-like grip hardly lessened. Those very words a near vicious hiss.

"What da fuck would ya even know 'bout satisfying' a woman? I ain't never seen ya do anything' but lay dare."

Darcy's tongue brushed over his teeth again. he could smell the blood in Tetradore's veins, so close to the surface so filled with adrenaline. How readily that saliva in his own mouth pooled at even the anticipation of bloodshed.

"Yar only alive cause Risque ya miserable little son of a bitch. If it 'ad been me decision dat night idda burned ya wit da rest o'yar good for nothin' family. Yar momma laid dare while she burned too, dat where yar learned it from?"


Darcy

i'm in love with the madness


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