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
at my feet you'll bow to me
Softly uttered, appeasing words slipped beyond her alpha pet's lips as if he continued to seek to appease her and yet they were the furthest thing from genuine. Of that much, she could tell. It was much like he chose to serve her rotting flesh and tell her it was fresh! Did he think her to be daft? How insulting. How part of her wanted to force him to say it as he truly meant it, to force the unsurmountable weight of her power to drill into him and make him do all that she desired of him. Whim after whim until the she-devil tired of him. He was spending far too much time trying to evade her ire that he forgot the most important thing. The lies were something that spoke louder than his unspoken words. She could taste the lie like a sting upon the air.
She could see his reflection in her mirror along with herself looming behind him like something sinister and yet she does not let that irritation show, not yet. Her pet claimed he was not deserving of her.. kindness? Of that so-called statement, she could not argue and yet his words were not spoken with the absolute resolute resolve that they were deserving of. That she was deserving of. Foolish man. "Is that a question or a statement?" Her honied words wanted to lure him, as that pale hypnotic gaze feasted upon his flesh with narrowed, cruel intensity. It might even look lustful and yet the only thing she wanted to do to that surface was to mar its perfection. Her hand pressed against his flesh, feeling the heat warm her cool palm in the most delightful way. It soon wandered to find its way to rest upon his strong shoulder before she turned her pet around like he was nothing more than a doll she could position anyway she liked.
He knew better than to fight the invasive control she possessed and yet felt no need to wield when he was so...obedient. How she tested the resolve sporadically, nothing more than a poke or two even though she wanted him to face her, to further examine him not within the reflection of that mirror once more. It was like she she-devil no longer wished to see his face through the reflection of that mirror, her own gaze snapped to the new earring's rimed edge that surely burned with irritation from the corrosive silver even though he concealed any signs of that minor discomfort. She relished in that delightful angry redness lingered around the hole of entry of the new earring as she suspected would always be the case as that silver would never allow that wound to fully heal. It would be like a constant dull ache he could ignore as he would never have a moment where he was not reminded of her and what she placed on him. It did little to change his appearance as she thought it would as it remained mostly concealed by his thick mop of loose curls upon his head.
Her hand remained fixed upon his shoulder, lingered there in a fashion that almost appeared intimate, but lust was far from her mind, at least in the traditional sense. Her fingers danced across his heated skin, the silver talons scarcely avoiding the exposed skin from the careful taloned fingers, for she is nothing but meticulous in her punishments. He truly is a prime example of a masculine specimen. With not a single ounce of fat upon his body, nothing but taut muscle beneath his caramel skin.
How she allows him to feel the apprehension of her taloned fingertips as if he could feel the promise, the breath of it upon his pristine skin. Her pale piercing eyes peered at the enchanted phoenix necklace that he wore as she finally moved her hand to all but gently tug upon that dainty chain, lifting it from his skin as if reminding him of his own mortality and the purpose of it. The feel of that chain she hopes reminds him of that absent collar upon his throat. She tugged it as if to remind him what it felt like to wear a collar around his throat. Yet it was displeasing to see him without a true collar, a true symbol of ownership that spoke far more loudly than a trinket.
Those pale eyes soon rose to meet his vivid emerald stare that was striking, even in the lowlight of her room. Although it was as though she could pin him in place with that very stare, to hold him prisoner with it even though he already was. Her voice was sickly sweet as hot honey and yet possessed such suffocating weight with all that was unsaid. She decided to question him about that collar even though she suspected she knew that it ended up within a watery grave. How she wanted to hear him say it, baiting him into some kind of admittance to some form of guilt.
Risque had no patience for his excuses, for that was exactly what anything that came from his mouth was. That collar should have been the first thing he thought to save and yet to not was surely an act of defiance. Her feline, it would seem had his priorities all amuck. Perhaps it was why she needed to remind him what it meant to slight her even if it was merely passive in comparison to her usual methods.
"What a shame" Risque was far more concerned with the collar that was made for him, over the rusty garbage heap of a boat that she had sentenced to die. Much like he had done to her Syn, like he foolishly thought he did to her. Even though the vampire queen would never admit to him that it worked out for her in the long run. This version of Syn was far superior and more suitable for her plans than the one prior and as it turned out, it was worth more as rubble than it was worth itself. It was laughable, really. Yet how easy it was to destroy his little life as she saw fit, to remind him of the frailty of the balance of it. How simple it was to take everything from him in a blink of an eye. To strip him of everything, simply because she wanted to. How she knew that he would eventually grow more attached to his future home as he would undoubtedly choose to rebuild to give shelter to those pathetic little misfits he so wished to protect. Even though he surely damned them all. It was like he had an insatiable need to fix what was broken even though it was a futile endeavour. When would he learn? The more he built, the more he had to lose. She released that chain suddenly, allowing it to fall flush against his skin. "I did you a favour, really. That rusted-out ship was an eyesore to the coastline" Her light french accent laced within her every word.
"If anything, you should be thanking me. But you have always been an ungrateful pet." She stated the words almost nonchalantly, a soft sigh parted from her ruby red lips.
"You should have saved that collar from the bottom of your precious harbour. You might find the next one to be... less enjoyable." There was the threat like a flash of fangs. It of course crossed her mind that a suitable punishment was to make him fish it out himself, even if that meant he drowned in the process.. and yet salt water did terrible things to leather. Fortunate for him.
She walked toward the mirror, pushing him out of her way with her body to gaze at the sight of her own perfect reflection. It was odd that she didn't force a replacement around his throat yet.. "I am done with you for now.. You may crawl to the door and ask for me to open it for you when you get there. Where you will then crawl until you are allowed out of Syn. You refused my collar, so I must remind you of what you are, mon chat." She looked at him through the mirror once more, her voice melodious as if appeased with his performance thus far. How she would enjoy seeing her proud alpha on his knees before her yet again.
"Begin." Risque gestured toward the ground pivoting her head to look over her exposed slender shoulder to eye him. How expectant she was that he would follow her command with the promise of freedom well within his reach..
I like you damaged, but I need something left
Something for me, something for me to wreck