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    The East

    The east side of the city is often considered the heart of Sacrosanct. It's here were the majority of the shopping district can be found, deep in the heart of downtown. It's here that magic thrives, it hums in every stone and can be felt in every breath. Often times, new comers to the city may be come overwhelmed by such sensations but, eventually, it becomes an ever present feeling that's hardly noticed. The streets of the east side are frequented by all species as many companies are housed in the sky scrapers and hole in the wall establishments that line the streets.

    What's You'll Find Here

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    Cat's Meow

    owned by Nadya Tetradore
    0 employees

    Cat's Meow

    An older brick building tucked downtown with only a neon sign above the steel door saying Cat's Meow and the drifting of music to let you know of the burlesque within. The inner confines have a lavish feeling of comfort and style. At one end of the building is a large stage for the dancers to entertain with small round tables scattered in front for the customers to sip or dine while watching. Directly across from the stage is a fully stocked bar so you’re never without a view of the entertainment.

    Owner Nadya Tetradore

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    Downtown

    Downtown

    The city has a unique skyline, clashing between modern sky rises and small victorian storefronts. In the heart of downtown, the sleek colored glass buildings reign supreme though their old-world roots can be seen in the most peculiar places from the lamp post styled electric street light to the stone sidewalks. The old world architecture slowly returns the further from downtown you travel, however.

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    Inner Sanctum

    owned by Alexander Macedonia
    2 employees

    Inner Sanctum

    This hidden little cafe is loaded with essentricities and antiques that fill every corner of this remarkable place. The walls are lined with oddities from every corner of the world. Beyond the intriging decor, this place is known for it's delectable coffees and it's exquisite latte art.

    Owner Alexander Macedonia

    Barista Alexis Wilde
    Barista Calliel Alosi

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    Red on the Water

    owned by Isolt Griffin
    2 employees

    Red on the Water

    Nestled in a pleasant alcove that is but a stone?s throw away from the dazzling labyrinth of downtown, Red on the Water is a spectacle in its own right. Renovated in the style of a classic Irish pub with a dash of modern flare befitting the city that boasts it, this up-and-coming venue is the perfect place to snag an impeccably prepared home-cooked meal and enjoy the city?s most impressive collection of brews from Ireland and beyond. You and your guests are sure to be mesmerized and invigorated by the energetic offerings of the live Celtic band to be found here every weekend.

    Owner Isolt Griffin

    Co-Owner Damon Marcello
    Waitress Yumi Chizue

and on his lips a whispered name69.145.144.152Posted On June 22, 2016 at 10:21 AM by MALEK

i hear the footsteps inside of me
A bellowing laugh escapes Malek’s lips, only to be replaced by a sly grin as he glances up and down Dorian. ”I suppose you are correct,” he responds to the rhetorical question the faerie supplied. Mal does not see any reason to argue with him, he finds it rather humorous and again he chews over the way he speaks. It seemed old, not as old as the vampire’s own dialect, Old English yet how the faerie spoke made Mal’s own words sound like a peasant.

Then again, Mal was nothing more than a peasant in his days before he was turned. Pushing the thought away, he traces Dorian’s confused features with his own hazel eyes as the man seems to ponder his explanation. His lips quirk into a grin at the Italian response, yes, he was old, but how old? And why the faerie choose not to learn about the modern world and how people spoke was beyond him. ”I believe I would have to agree with your logic,” Malek laughs again, lifting his glass to his lips to take another drink.

Unintentionally, his own way of speaking was slowly reverting, speaking in a way that he had not for hundreds of years. The vampire had adjusted his ways as to not be noticed, though he always was. He was certain that even if he was speaking in a dialect long forgotten his victims would hardly care if only to get close to him. He was an experienced lover, yet in his almost 7 centuries he had never had a true relationship, it was difficult to find love when all anyone wanted to do was fuck.

Malek lets his thoughts travel back to present as he toasts to the faerie but the man doesn’t notice. Eyes drawn to the movement of his finger circling the rim, the vampire is unsure of what he’s thinking as Dorian brings the drink to his lips. Another bought of laughter escapes from Malek as he watches the fae splutter and cough. It was clear that the man had yet to experience the beautiful nature of whiskey. Slamming his own glass down on the counter, more forceful than necessary and orders two more drinks from the ‘servant’.

The vampire had utterly enjoyed the faerie’s reaction, amusement dancing in his own eyes. He pauses in his own response as Dorian responds. It was almost as if he had a split personality if Mal didn’t know any better. Tilting his head slightly, curious, he runs a hand through his long luscious locks of hair. ”I’m pleased that you enjoy it. You’ve never had whiskey before,” it was a statement not a question as Malek responds. It is then that the faerie introduces himself and the vampire gives him a tilt of his head, acknowledging his strange words.

”Not exactly, it’s just a similar accent to where I am from,” he comments referring to a long lost culture. Taking another swig of his whiskey, depleting it and moving on to the next glass set in front of him. Sliding the other glass towards Dorian, Malek is fully enjoying himself. It had been an age to find himself in the company with another who enjoyed fine spirits. Instead of increasing any sexual attraction, he settles to leave it where it stands. The vampire truly is enjoying himself, a feeling he had thought abandoned him centuries ago.

Turning in his seat to face the faerie, he tucks his hair behind his ears, suddenly wishing he had worn it up rather than it falling in his face. Hoping the fae was close to being tipsy he then casually asks, ”So Dorian, where are you from?” he shrugs yet his eyes are alight with curiosity. The man’s mannerisms were something far more ancient than the modern day world was used to.
for raelah, love strells


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