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
years I've walked in the coldest winds
from sorrow and pain I find my strength
the more I hurt, the clearer I see.
In an almost dutiful fashion, the ebony feline settled upon his haunches at his mistress' side, his body answering her call. His very blood was tainted with the very toxicity of Risque's venom. The effects of it twisted and contorted his very world until it was awash with the fallacy of those hallucinations. His ears flicked at the vague sound of those voices - the baritone grumble of Darcy's southern draw and Risque's more melodic notes lost within the desperate whispering of words he could hardly make out. Nevertheless, his emerald eyes were entirely captivated with the very soil underfoot - that dirt and grime moving with the wiggling of those little white worms that he was so certain were coming for him alone. How drawn to him those very bugs seemed, as if he was the very meal that might provide them with some sort of life. Tetradore was altogether oblivious of that subtle shift of Darcy's boot beneath the foliage that surrounded him, the sudden pressure upon his paw so easily explained away by those visions that plagued him. He hardly noticed it, at first, the sensation accompanied only by the wiggling of those worms against his silken fur before they began to bore those holes within his very flesh - so accompanied by the pain of Darcy's own foot pressing with near crushing strength against the delicate bones of his paw. He struggled entirely to separate those imagined feelings from reality, the panther merely watching in abject horror as he watched those slimy little worms moving beneath his very skin. The very sight of it caused his mouth to part, the panther echoing a low growl at those very visions that accosted him with little notion of how exceedingly well he had played into the Southern vampire's plans.
The very release of Risque's hold upon him was almost a relief, utterly fleeting though it was. Her power, however, was nothing short of a complete assault in the seconds that passed. The very intensity of it all but crushed against the feline as his body was forced to lie prostrate upon the ground underfoot. The magnitude of it pushed him down against the grime underfoot as those awful little bugs crawled with renewed frenzy around his face. Tetradore struggled to get his paws underfoot, the panther pressing back against that force, futile though it was with that resounding hiss of his Mistress' voice cutting through those plaguing whispers. That very snap of her affinity was akin to whip against his very skin, prompting the feline to flinch even as he struggled to jerk away from that dirt. He was hardly prepared for the intensifying of those hallucinations, Risque's ability to affect all that tormented him still new enough that he was entirely caught off guard. Those bugs suddenly near lept at him in a frenzy, their teeth boring holes into his very skin as their shapes shifted and changed in size, the creatures almost seeming to multiply in on themselves as they so strove to eat the panther alive. The very pain of it brought an almost pathetic whimper to his lips, the feline striving to burrow those vocalizations of pain in the same way he so often did - denying Risque what she seemed to desire the most. His efforts, however, were ultimately in vain, that very pain almost seeming to increase exponentially with each passing moment. His very claws seemed to dig into the earth, his sides panting as a sweat broke out on the panther's ebony hide. That cry of pain inevitably left the panther's parted jaws, the pain hardly ceasing even with that sound.
Vaguely, Tetradore was aware of that heeled boot upon his fur, the pressure of Risque's shoe hardly compared to the very pain she assaulted him with. That very onslaught, however, dissipated as Risque rose, turning her attention instead towards Darcy and, in turn, giving Tetradore a much-desired reprieve. For the moment, the panther hardly moved, the man simply regaining his composure as his ears flicked at the almost far off sound of his mistress' voice. Tetradore struggled to make sense of those dull words, the panther's emerald eyes simply watched as she snatched the keys from Darcy's hand, only to stride off into the night and back towards where those vehicles awaited. Sluggishly, the jungle cat pulled himself to his feet, the feline almost swaying precariously for a singular moment as Darcy's words cut through the silence of the evening. The hint of that growl spoke volumes of Darcy's own displeasure, the feline's current form all but stopping him from offering even the slightest retort. That almost rough shove all but disrupted the panther's delicate balance, his claws outstretching in some effort to grip the ground beneath him. It was only after a moment before the panther shook his head, chasing off those hallucinations as best he could before his paws heavily followed within Darcy's wake. Tetradore was all but continue to keep that distance between the pair. He was hardly in the state of mind to deal with the vicious jealousy and violence of the vampire he'd regrettably grown to know so well. The majority of his life, after all, spent around the Southern man just as it was Risque herself.
His ears swiveled atop the ebony panther's chiseled head, his emerald eyes almost narrowed at Darcy's insistence that he should enjoy that punishment inflicted upon him. The Southern twang of Darcy's voice rose over the soft whispering that afflicted Tetradore, his senses still largely beneath the sway of his mistress' venom. He ignored those indiscernible murmurs, however, the Alpha entirely focused upon Darcy's voice as he slowly padded through the forest in the man's wake. That insistence that Darcy would hardly forget this, however, prompted a low growl to reverberate within the back of his throat. Oh, how he knew Darcy might try, Risque's existence alone somehow keeping the pair of men from all but tearing each other apart. As it was, he had little intention of simply rolling over - Tetradore giving as much as he took as he aged. Nevertheless, the pair arrived back in the parking lot without any further incident, Darcy's aggravation clearly not enough to take it out upon the Were with Risque's birthday present still looming over their heads. Slowly, the panther padded to the side of the sleek vehicle so named after his own species, his emerald irises simply watching as Darcy slid into the driver's seat. What a blessing it would be if Darcy just forgot of his existence - it was, sadly, too much to ask. That muttered curse accompanied the sudden opening of the door, Darcy's power clearly assisting the vampire as a soft breath left Tetradore's lips. How he disliked the very idea of returning to Syn and yet...he was hardly in a state to survive the side effects of fleeing, not when the Southerner was already in such a state of boiling animosity.
The feline slowly climbed into the passenger seat, the panther leaning heavily against the door as it closed behind him. His head rested on the door's interior armrest, his tail almost curling around him as he snuggled into the leather interior. His claws were extended, at the ready should they need to dig into that expensive fabric in case Darcy had any ideas of tossing him off the seat - a lesson he had learned at a much younger age when it had humored the vampire far too much. Silence settled readily within the vehicle's cabin as Darcy threw the car into reverse, the tires squealing as they peeled out of the parking lot and onto the Southern streets. With Darcy's affinity for vehicles, the duo met distinctly little resistance as they sped down Sacrosanct's darkened roads. It hardly took long before the Jaguar rolled into Syn's parking lot - the Lykan already back within its spot into the underground garage. The vehicle halted well before the garage, however, the door opening abruptly, prompting the panther to pull back. A small glimpse of discontent traced his features and yet, he remained little more then the epitome of silence as his paws once again hit the asphalt. The sleek feline moved around the vehicle, just in time to watch one of Risque's many vampiric coven members rush off to fulfil Darcy's request - though who it was he could hardly tell, his own vision still feathered at the edges and still filled with things he knew hardly existed.
Tetradore could feel those peculiar colored irises upon him, the vibrancy of his own emerald gaze shifted towards the undead man as his ears flicked at that falsified sugariness to that baritone voice. Oh how much that very tone told him of those moments to come! Tetradore was altogether aware of the very state of his figure, the mud and grime coated his paws and underside, his very neck and chin covered with it. His own blood only further matted that ebony fur - that very muck all but utterly uncomfortable for the man as it dried. Even so, the very idea of Darcy cleaning him was one Tetradore took...distinct unease within. Darcy's little errand boy was altogether quick to return, momentarily putting off those very considerations of what the vampire so intended to do to free him of the sludge that tainted his once pristine frame. It was that very flash of silver that drew his gaze upwards towards the object nestled within Darcy's hands, the vampire seemingly paused in a poised moment as Tetradore too stared at him in return. It had been....years since the Alpha had been subjected to those collars. The last time some point before he'd burnt down Syn with the hope of rescuing both Isolt and Tobias. This one was hardly like the others she used to so often fit him with, the woman clearly had increased her collection since he had decimated the first. Visibly, the panther swallowed, the cat all but beginning to back up and yet any effort he might have made to put distance between himself and Darcy was all for naught.
That hissed threat was hardly missed by the feline, his own lips rose to flash those sharpened canines as Darcy crouched down. A hiss reverberated upon his lips and yet, it was one Darcy was quick to ignore as the vampire fastened that pronged collar firmly around his neck. How innately aware he was of those pointed barbs of silver - the very material only just laying against his skin, ready to dig into his flesh at the slightest tugging. Even so, the touch alone was enough to burn his flesh, those pinpricks creating perfectly symetical marks at each point of contact. It was hardly more than an annoyance, however, the panther momentarily plopping on the ground to scratch at it with his hind leg as Darcy fastened the associated leash to the large 'O' ring. His very distraction with that collar surely only contributed to the very ease at fastening the other end to a steel bar, the Alpha instead resorting to merely shaking off as if it might somehow dislodge the silver collar. His efforts, however, were altogether in vain, that collar fastened tightly enough that it hardly shifted against his skin. He tugged lightly at the leash, the very action only furthering that silver that dug into his neck. Tetradore was hardly attentive, at that moment, to Darcy's grasping of the hose or the vampire turning on the water. Rather, it was only once that near artic liquid collided into his ebony form that the panther turned his attention near immediately towards the vampire.
That audible sound of discontent near immediately left Tetradore's lips. His head abruptly turned away as he shifted his position, attempting to put himself as far from the water as that leash would allow him. It hardly helped, however, Darcy all but determined to ensure that onslaught of water followed him and yet, the sheer shock of that cold to his system helped push away the remenants of those hallucinations, bringing the world into an almost sharp focus. That 'bath' almost seemed to go on for ages before the water was aburptly cut off, leaving Tetradore dripping in the cold evening air. A shudder ran down the very length of his spine as he shook out his fur, much like a dog might. God how he fucking hated the cold - the way it penetrated to his very bones as he visibly shivered. The weight of those emerald eyes turned towards Darcy and that grin he so abhored. How he wouldn't love to fucking eat that grin right off the vampire's face. The very consideration of decapitating the man momentarily filling the feline as Darcy reached for that leash. If it were not for that abrupt tug, Tetradore might have considered testing those very limits of Darcy's control. It was almost unfortunate the far stronger vampire was so deadset upon seeing their shared mistress, the man near pulling Tetradore behind him before the feline so quickly made an effort to keep up - those silver barbs far too painful to let dig into his skin the way they so threatened to do.
The feline padded down those familiar halls of Syn and towards Risque's penthouse bedroom, the cat altogether silent in Darcy's wake. He settled upon his haunches as the vampire reached up to knock agaisnt the door, the cat far more inclined with cleaning himself in some vain effort to reduce that ever risidual coldness from his makeshift "bath". His gaze hardly even flicked towards his mistress herself as she stepped from that bedroom - Darcy quick to offer her that barriage of compliments like a lovesick puppy. It was only at that slight tug as the duo began to move towards the basement that prompted the panther onto his feet, the man trailing behind them as much as he comfortably could as the ventrued down and into the very depths of Syn. How the Were-King so hated that darkened chamber - the plethora of insturments fastened to the walls all but prompting his ears to pin back upon the top of his head. His tail lashed almost angerily behind him, the feline himself having felt a the touch of a great many of Risque's 'toys' over the years. He hardly thought at all of those ebony balloons as the panther glided into the room after them, those staticy balls of helium parting around them only to take an increased interest within the still damp feline's hide. They clung to his bodice within his wake, the panther hardly noticing at first till one seemed determined to stick to his cheek. The Alpha shook off, attempting to rid himself of that balloon only for that collection that clung to him to wiggle in his wake.
He paid little attention to the large device upon the floor, much less the fairy in the cage as the Alpha attempted to bat one of those balloons. His outstretched claws prompted the balloon to abruptly pop with an otherwise loud noise. The sound alone caused the cat to jump slightly, only for an angry hiss to leave his lips as those god damned balloons closed in on him. Fucking hell, he hated birthdays. He hated balloons. He hated this god damned room and, worst of all, he hated those amused grins upon the vampires faces at his bloody ballooned plight.
aiden tetradore