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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

My minds ship-wrecked104.34.33.123Posted On September 26, 2016 at 11:46 PM by Camellia Nikolaev

Camellia Nikolaev
sometimes to stay alive you gotta kill your mind


Camellia's stormy grey eyes blinked a few times at the woman, a weariness to them as she tried to figure out if she was real or not, and if she was friend or foe. Her body was tense, the air in the alleyway dropping temperature rapidly until her breathe clouded in front of her and her skin was laced with goosebumps. The cold didn't bother the woman from Siberia, but it might make the stranger shiver, if she was real or if her hallucinations were convincing enough. Dropping the temperature was her defense mechanism, the only way she felt safe when she was in danger or unsure if she was hallucinating or not. The woman held her hands up in a non threatening way, and even with the distance between them Camellia could scent that she was nothing more than human, if she was real. Her head tilted slightly with the girl's words, her body still tensed as she could do anything but relax: she was a trapped, crazy animal, and the worst thing the woman could do in these moments would be to move closer.

"I ....I thought I heard someone crying for help in here.... but...." she said with a shakey voice, her words smothered in a thick Russian accent as she trailed off, unwilling to admit her own mental disorder. She glanced back to where she had seen the girl not moments before, but now there was nothing, the hallucination having faded. When she glanced at her hands, she flinched as she saw blood coating them, shaking them as if trying to shake it off before she buried her face in her hands once more. She acted crazy and she felt crazy, she couldn't even trust her own mind so it left little room for trusting others like this woman. When she looked back up at the woman, the ferocity remained but there was also an almost desperate, pitiful panic in them as well. Some days were bad, but today her schizophrenia was acting up really bad and there was nothing she could do about it.

She snorted as the woman said she looked fine, if there was one thing the WereTiger knew it was that she was not fine and she didn't look fine, her cool composure had shattered. "Do I?" she asked sarcastically, because even she knew she was anything but fine. She sighed and cursed in under her breathe in Russian, hating herself for even walking into the alleyway in the first place. What did she care? She was a killer, she should have just kept walking and ignored it; if it were real somebody else could have dealt with it, someone more qualified. But she didn't, no matter how much she wanted to simply keep walking, she couldn't just not help. Perhaps it was the alpha blood in her, to be as cruel as she could be but also have a natural desire to protect.

"Please tell me you're real," she said, that desperation pitiful but also forcing a firm demand into her words for her to just say it. All she wanted was to know that she wasn't entirely crazy, that this woman in front of her was real too. Her firsts clenched in frustration. More than anything she wanted to shift and bolt out of the alley to the nearest forest, but that would cause quite the scene: a massive tiger sprinting through the city streets. All she could do was chill the air to try and calm herself down, ice crystals forming on her clenched hands as she tried to keep from exploding.

25 years old // Were // Siberian Tiger // Packless

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