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.
Black Market
Cull & Pistol
Noah's Ark
Syn
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.
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
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
Mekal and Osiris were growing with fiercer than usual appetites, every day it seemed those paws seemed outgrow those slender frames as they matured. Their unique 3-d-like patterns that spattered across their smooth, soft coat metamorphose from mere spots into those intricate blobs as leopards aged. Those eyebrows still forming with their increased size, which only added to those expressive faces. It entertained that fickle mistress with her incredibly specific appetites. Osiris' face seeming to take on a far more grumpy appearance than the female whom appeared far more dainty in comparison. Mekal. How that little female leopard seemed content to boss the boy around to the point where he could barely get much rest, she was bold and expeditious to anger. Even then she hardly showed any ounce of fear while the male had frightened himself with his own tail once in the previous weeks. That bantam leopard practically scaling the walls of her room, knocking over a rather expensive vase from a French glass-maker. Perhaps the feline was simply slower to develop. If not, it was a nasty habit the vampire had miniscule tolerance for. This evening they tussled upon the carpet, Mekal content to show Osiris who was boss. Those pitched growls filling the large confines of her room, a soundtrack to her leisurely getting ready. Risque casting an idle glance in their direction, the faint sound of muffling pounding of that music already playing. The night had already begun while Risque polished her very form, hardly aware of what was amiss to the bustle within Syn itself.
Risque primped and prepped as always from the top of her now near pin-straight hair down to her manicured toes, accompanied by those thigh high boots and that dress that poured like liquid on her every sensual curve. Even that make up flawlessly applied with that icon deep red lipstick adorning her lush lips and the blend of eyeshadows sultry and mysterious upon the upper lids of her eyes. She hardly bothered with trivial things like blush like so many of their kind did, giving the illusion of life. Risque gave in to none of the sort, embellishing the undead creature she was. The sound of her heels clicking against that buffed and polished hard wood floor, ready to descend into the underbelly below. Yet another day... even if this day was particularly different. As she reaches for the knob of that thick heavy wooden door she was met with a dreadful yowling from the clouded leopard behind her, the boy pinned beneath the female, her teeth at his throat. "Hush" she chided sharply, that sharpness sliced across that room, that saw to those felines pause. There would be no other warnings and they knew it. She paused for a breath of a moment as if waiting to see them ignore her warning. When they were perfectly quiet she resumed sweeping that door open. She hardly expected to see Darcy himself standing on the other side of that door. That surprise written clearly upon her pale feminine features, as short lived as it was. That greeting uttered from his lips as his gaze trails across her form like he were sipping fine wine. "Darcy. You are up early.." That suspicion lingered with her pale blue eyes, depthless and intricate in its own way as they hardened. "What happened?" A demand to know it despite the pleasantries her afforded her which only made her that much more suspicious. How she anticipated to hear some bad news, hardly willing to skirt around the issue at all. How displeasing to start the very evening that way.
In a fluid gentlemanly manner he offered his arm out, that age old gesture. Something was clearly amiss, how she scrutinizes him heavily in that moment. She makes no motion to take that arm just yet. "Did someone try to raid us?" It wouldn't be the first time someone had tried. Those weres often making short work of any intruders who tried to lay siege what their vampire masters slept. But Darcy seemed so entirely composed, too calm, perhaps even content. Something was definitely amiss. She was so very certain of it. This was not how she intended to spend her birthday.
She waits for that response before she slides her exposed arm into that waiting one. "If I find out you have been keeping something from me..." It was far too early for threats and yet.... Anything was possible with the vampire queen. How surprises made her on edge, that she-devil so often pieced together that puzzle far before anything had ever occurred. Today was different. The midnight haired woman was completely in the dark in her own castle. He seemed to terribly obscure as they moved, his assurances seemed to appease her only slightly. Hunting trip? Perhaps she would play this very game if only to enjoy giving into that punishment later. "Very well.. I could always eat. I am famished.. I have acquired a fairy I have been looking forward to drinking tonight." There was no alluding to the significance of that very day alone.
That drive was fluid, Darcy hurtling through the streets within the powerful, sleek sports car. One of her favored chariots for outings. It took truly barely any time at all, the drive itself was... enjoyable even if she would not dare to utter such a thing out loud. She truly had a taste for that blinding speed Darcy maneuvered through the city scape into the south. The south... how peculiar. He easily was the best driver, that useful power he so seamlessly used unleashed a whole new power within her vehicles that she took as much advantage of as he did. How they seemed to own the very roads. The streets were clear as though they cleared a way specifically for the two vampires, pulling into a parking spot next to her Jag with a deftness. He easily maneuvers to the passenger's seat, opening that door. Always the gentleman, even when she knew the monster coiled in those depths even they enjoyed the façade their kind was so prone to. She slid easily with a grace. She looked at the surroundings, drawing in a breath that carried a familiar scent clinging to the night air. She knew that scent well. "A Park... Darcy... we left Syn for a park. I thought you said we were going hunting." She protests allowing that agitation show. Men, they would never understand the needs of a woman to prepare for such outings. The vampire woman was not wearing the right shoes for this. "Tetradore?" she uttered suddenly.. that singular name with distinct suspicion. What was going on? How that demand to know what was going on appearing in the form of a growing agitation flooding her then as Darcy drew toward her.
It was when he spoke that her undead cowboy spread some light upon that unusual situation. How certain Risque was that birthday was lost like a whisper on a brutal zephyr. He remembered. Of course he did. "Did you say present?" IT was truly rare.... To have Darcy even mention Tetradore at all without utter disdain or a firm scowl upon his face. As if on command she drew in a deep breath, tasting that very night air around him, her eyes fluctuating to something far more predatory, those pupils shifting into slits like a cat. Darcy easily drew in, his hands finding their placeholder upon her hips. His lips pressed against her slender pale neck once he slid around her.
"If these boots get ruined, you will need to answer to Leon." Surely there was a joke somewhere within those very words that she uttered entirely stern-faced. He was absolutely fiercely passionate about Jimmy Choo. She once saw him tackle another vampire and tear out their throat over a last available pair of lacy stilettos. She was sure the flamboyant vampire would even scare the likes of Darcy himself if he saw that look within his eyes. If she had known they were going hunting she wouldn't wear a pair of two thousand dollar thigh highs. How that mention of a gift and the promise of a hunt seemed easily ease most of that tension away even though she hardly wished to play about in the muck. That final kiss was placed just below her ear whispering sweet nothings within her ear.
She hardly knew what she looked forward to more... that promise of a gift... or it was making Tetradore suffer, to make his feline know who the true apex predator was. She hardly intended to play fair, but then would these two men expect anything else? Have fun... those words dripping from his tongue seemed to draw forth a sick anticipation as he took a step back. "Oh you know I will. There is nowhere in this city, on this world that he could escape me.." There was an portentous tone within her fluid, words, her voice was low and knowing. Her tongue trails along her bottom lip.. toying, tasting betraying that desire to hunt in that true fashion, entirely animalistic.
Tetradore's scent, it hung upon the air like breadcrumbs for her to snatch and follow. She could scent it anywhere, like anyone who was hers. It was nearly visible to her through the wayward pines, mangled with undergrowth and gnarled branches and yet there it was. That imprint... the scent and the binding of her very powers, as it betrayed where he was. Not entirely specific... but close enough. She could practically see him, taste him. She slides forward with that fluid feline embodiment that she so exudes in her movements. Her dagger like heels sunk into the flesh of the earth, a hiss snapping from her lips then. Risque had to make up for it with placing her weight carefully upon the balls of her feet, like a careful dance and carefully placed feet whilst she trapezing through the trees. The forest smelt alive with scents, fresh evergreen and new plantlife.. Those flowers casting their subtle scent through its ominous undertone. It was alive.... Thrumming with it like it possessed its own pulse. Even she could not ignore the promise of it. There was something animalistic as it was instinctive in the way she prowls forward..
She was not dressed for this. Part of her wanted to strip those very clothes, running naked and barefoot between the pines, feeling the needles beneath her feet and yet. She knows she could catch him even like this, that challenge in that ever present. Even dressed to the nines. How out of place the vampire woman looked, a contrast to the very place that resembled her panther's home. A home that had not been his for so many years. It felt like less time for her than it probably did to him, that immortal life had a way of speeding things up. A home she had decimated to ash and ruin including his very family. One she would remind him of when she snatched him by the scruff and claimed what was hers in victory.
How aware she was of Darcy, her gaze falls toward him, pivoting her head slightly to see that anticipatin that evidently announced itself upon his features. He felt that heady call too it would seem. That hunt so appealed to their kind even though there were many that hardly embraced that side they were all capable of. How she missed this... A simple act that was all but natural. How she had all but neglected that very thrill. With a vampiric burst of speed she found herself inhaling those veritable bread crumbs Tetradore left behind. Surely he would tire... His stamina was certainly high and yet she is well aware that a vampires was that much more. The only advantage he possessed was a head start.
After sinking into that dense timberland, she was rewarded.. she suddenly pauses, perfectly statuesquely still. Her slender hand reaching out upon that nearby tree.. Tetradore was nearby, she could smell it. She sunk lower toward the ground... her body in a controlled crouch, those finger tips trailing downward along that rough bark as she did. There it was.. His black fur ensnared within that rough bark. His scent strong... far more potent than before.. That was when she heard a snapping sound of those silent paws crushing a brittle twig. How that sound sounded so akin to broken bones. He was close. In an instant she launched forward, that movement a pale and black blur but no less graceful like everything she did. Her dark crimson lips parted... drawing in that air through her lips... she could taste him. All that could be heard parting through that submissive dark then peeled away from her lush lips. "Mon chat.." She practically sang.. as that languid sadistic chuckle escapes her.. She was enjoying this as twisted as her reasons were.
She paused next to another tree.. as though playing hide and seek. "Or should I say... ma petite souris.." My little mouse.. he hated that calling.. A king in his own right.. reduced to nothing more than a scrambling little mouse beneath his mistresses talons. She was toying with him, knowing very well her words would reach him. Once more that hunter's gaze met Darcy's own, after all she was hardly hunting alone this night. It was that subtle quirk of the corner of her lips that betrayed that she was enjoying this.