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
on a steel horse I ride
He had little desire to rescue Tetradore from anything. Not when this war might finally end that pathetic panther and rid him of Tetradore's presence for good and yet- how his beloved would turn upon Darcy himself if she learned he had willingly let her precious pet die. It was avoidance of that retribution, perhaps, that prompted the southern cowboy to shout toward the Alpha feline below as those mop-dogs all but carved a path through Risque's smaller, weaker cats. As fast as they were forceful, that dreadlocked hair seemed to shield the animals from the fangs and claws of the vast majority of his lovers' felines. Their own jaws were powerful enough to crush through spine and sinew. A weakness in their feline ranks would hardly serve them well now. It took but a mere utterance of that very notion to his lover to prompt his blood-stained Queen to summon another wave of her feline warriors. These ones were far more apt than the last and yet- with that vampire and now that mopped-dog, Tetradore was beginning to....struggle. A hiss of discord spat free of Darcy's own lips before the vampire vaulted from the roof and down onto the battlefield below. Risques insistence that the dog would fall to bullets was hardly missed and yet without being able to see the body of that creature he was just as likely to waste bullets shooting it in the ass or thigh or shoulder- shots that would enrage it rather than destroy it. Why waste bullets when his teeth and vampiric strength would satisfy? This, perhaps, the only place in which his own unique species was destined to shine.
Darcy's hands seized that dog, hauling it backward and off of Tetradore as the crazed creature twisted and snapped, its teeth slicing at the air as the audible click of its jaws echoed into the shriek-filled space. That mad dog twisted wildly, its teeth catching Darcy's arm, drawing blood from the vampire's skin as Darcy merely sought to get a better grip on the animal- before hauling both hands in opposite directions- effectively tearing that dog in two. Which end was its head and which end was its ass so hardly mattered when it was dispatched like that. Blood and sinew and bone and innard slumped to the ground before the two halves of that dog were tossed aside- Darcy himself entirely covered in that blood now as he pivoted in place once more to seek his next target. Another of his lovers' felines was attempting to fight a dog alone, its claws, as Tetradore's before it, slashed useless at that fur. The feline hisses and spits were drowned out by the dogs excited baying- the canine revelling in its squealing prey. A growl unique to Darcy alone rose within the Southern vampire's throat as a burst of vampiric speed brought him to the aid of yet another feline as Tetradore pursued his original vampire target and Risque herself joined that battlefield. How aware Darcy was of his mate. Her proximity and her hum of power that blanketed the field unlike any other. Risque, in that moment, so truly flaunted her age in the best of ways. The power that rolled from her was thick, heedy- and a veritable warning to anything foolish enough to approach her as she cut through those masses. It was that very power that had drawn Darcy himself to her all those years ago. The vampiric cowboy, for now, satisfied enough in his mates relatively safely to reach for that second dog, the canine, this time, all but launched across the battlefield by his far superior strength- its body colliding with another of Cade's vampires to send them both tumbling down.
A hiss from his right drew Darcy's attention then. The vampire that launched for him now was older, stronger than any had been so far before. The collision of both men echoed across that battlefield like a crack of thunder. The sound of their hissing, growling and roars of utter outrage pierced the battlefield. That battle was a veritable vampiric blur of speed, that other vampire, twice, managing to sink his fangs into Darcy's own flesh before Darcy's teeth seized hold of his shoulder. Those rows upon rows of fangs doing as they did best- shredding flesh and sinew unlike any other vampire was capable off. Darcy's right hand seized the other vampire's jaw, attempting to force his head around- exposing the vulnerability of his neck as the other vampires fist shot out, seeking to smash Darcy's ribs in retribution. The pain of that blow forced the air from the Southern cowboys lungs and yet how it only seemed to infuriate him all the more. Darcy's teeth lunged forward, grasping the other vampire by the jaw- his neck no longer Darcy's target, the ravager so simply content to shred his face instead. Those screams of outrage so quickly turned to screams of pain as Darcy stepped backward,the vampire left clutching what remained of his face- and how little that was. That flesh was spat from Darcy's lips, the vampire reaching for one of his guns only to point it directly at his flailing enemy. The cowboy, for several seconds, appearing almost...amused at that torture he had inflicted, as if watching his assailant flail was somehow so very satisfying and oh- how it appealed to that predator within. The very monster Risque had nurtured over the years.
The sound of his gun firing echoed across the battlefield, the body of the vampire slumped to the ground as Darcy blew the smoke from the barrel. A second one of Cade's men so wisely chose to flee rather than attempt to take on Risque's mate as he had been assigned. Hmm- how very wise. It was Ian's sudden shouting however that prompted Darcy to turn, the cowboy wheeling in place as his mismatched gaze followed his underling's frantic gesture. What in the fuck was Risque stuck in? Those faceless, hooded warlocks were hardly difficult to spot, each one positioned around her, chanting, holding her in place as her felines continued to war around her. Cade had brought warlocks to a vampire war. How....displeasing.
"Kill dem fuckin' warlocks dats chatin'. Summon Chase and Lorelai. Go."
Ian was quick to blaze back across the field, calling for those vampires to join him before Darcy's own figure launched forward, the Southern cowboy tearing through that mass of bodies to reach his mate. Yet- how readily he reached for one of his own lesser used affinities. Those cars that lay dormant in the streets around Syn so easily began to respond. Metal, tires, gears, lights. Each part of those vehicles began to shift and change and shape. Transforming and combining beneath his command to reshape into a new creature entirely. That towering, haulking machine cat seemed to launch from the darkness of the streets and onto that battlefield. The screams of Cade's men seemed to rise as vampire and dog alike through themselves at that towering feline of steel and machine. Their fangs and claws so barely dented that metal as the giant cat prowled forward- so entirely beneath Darcy's command. It's tail lashed, sending several men flying, one swipe of its paw scattered the masses beneath it. Darcy's goal was so entirely clear. That dome would hardly be able to hold up to his machine cat. Why kill those warlocks when he could simply crush them all in one go?
Their vampire protectors, however, were proving troublesome. That machine cat seemed to race across the field in time with its master, both reaching Risque in the same moment. The vampire that launched at Darcy was rendered airbourne by a sweep of the cat's giant claw and yet- Darcy was oblivious to Tetradore behind him. The scent of the Alpha hardly concerning the cowboy. Not until that panther leapt. Tetradore's teeth lanced into his neck, the force of WereKings assault knocking him face-down as his claws seemed to slice his clothing like ribbons- cutting into the flesh beneath before that burning, familiar pain of Tetradore's venom seared his skin. Not again. Risque had lost control of her pet- somehow. Darcy's distraction saw that machine cat pause in turn- the power draining from it as Darcy fought to save himself. How readily that outrage seemed to fill the southern cowboy as Darcy abruptly rolled, aiming to slam Tetradore into the ground as he did. Darcy's elbow shot backwards, seeking to collide with Tetradore's stomach in an effort to force him to release his neck- affording Darcy the opportunity to launch to his feet. That blood ran down his neck, his flesh burning from where Tetradore had bitten. His sides, shredded by Tetradores unusually sharp claws, bleed freely in turn as Darcy's gaze found Tetradore's own. How or why Tetradore had turned on him he hardly knew. He hardly cared. Darcy's mind in that moment was content to fixate with predatory bloodlust.
"I am going to fuckin' end ya."
Those words were very near a hiss as Darcy's lips pulled back from his fangs, exposing those rows upon rows of bloodied weaponry before a burst of speed launched him towards the WereKing. A single, sudden sidestep, saw the vampire switch at the last moment from that frontal assault to come suddenly from behind- one hand reaching out to grab Tetradore's left hind leg before hauling him upwards- only to bring him smashing back down into the ground again like a rag doll. Darcy's hand tightened again, ready to smash that feline a second time. Risque was not here to save her precious pet. Not this time.
"Is dat all you fuckin' got Tetradore? After all dese years?"
...................
"Oh, Risque. Darling. Is that all you could manage after all these years? Falling into my trap and now your two best fighters are attacking each other. I hardly planned for that one and yet I always knew one of the men you let get close to you would finally be your undoing. I simply hadn't expected it to be the pet."
Cade's words rose above that din as he stepped effortlessly through the barrier. Risque and himself alone within that dome created by his warlocks. Cade's own power rose, tangling with Risques. They were of equal age, after all, neither held any physical advantage over the other. This battle would be one of skill alone. Cade's hand lifted, gesturing idly towards Tetradore and Darcy once more.
"Darla, get rid of them both will you?"
Cade's own mate, standing just outside that dome, nodded. The tall, blonde woman strode away from her lover and towards Darcy and Tetradore. Both men were far too occupied with each other to notice that six hundred year old vampire striding towards them. Cade's own gaze turned to face Risque once more.
"Shall we?"
That burst of telekinetic power exploded from his fingertips in near the same moment, colliding with Risque and sending her flying into the wall of that dome....
Oh- this would be easy.
Darcy
I'm wanted, Dead or Alive