• Edit

    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

  • Edit

    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

  • Edit

    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.

  • Edit

    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

  • Edit

    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

Closets are meant for skeletons;64.229.0.128Posted On April 28, 2017 at 9:53 AM by Mira Ramos


The hunter’s death happened rather quickly with that sickening crunch and collapse of this spine breaking at the neck. He received a more merciful than the death he would have offered either of them. He only knew a sliver of the pain he inflicted upon her, it had taken her longer than she would have liked to heal, holed up in that apartment. Unable to do much else other than sleep to allow that rapid healing to work the through poison and silver that infected her.

There was a growl, ferocious and menacing forged from the sound of Mira’s voice in the giant wolf’s head. Okay, so the woman didn’t appreciate the words. No talking then. She remains still, noticing the high dislike of the object that so vehemently and stubbornly remained embedded within her cheek. How painful it must have been and perhaps Mira even felt bad for her, despite her hesitation in aiding her. She was at least three times the size of a normal wolf, the seemingly timid woman that once was far gone, her stare something feral and distant. But at last, she was glad the hunter was dead. Perhaps now, at least for a time, the woods would again be a safe place to roam with the wild call whispers within her.

The massive wolf, took a step close to the pitch wolf. Mira remains steadfast, strong and fearless. Even though a more submissive wolf would probably hunker or even flee at such a sight, for fear that those ferocious bared fangs would turn upon her. But Mira was no submissive. She remains stoic, her stance a picturesque scene, her golden stare remaining upon the creature, that once timid wolf full of fear. Not a muscle twitches out of place, nor her gaze averting as the giant examines the lifeless body on which she perches like a crow. The tension was tangible like a dense haze upon them, but it does not hinder her. When suddenly the gigantic and majestic creature’s weighted attention ended upon her, eyes flicker into what only one could explain as curiosity.

At least, she hoped she was not wrong.

The pitch she-wolf tolerates the other touching her, despite her utter dislike of it. The massive wolf’s nudged her wounded side roughly as she drew in her scent. A growl remained stifled within her throat, as a wince of pain flashed behind those intelligent golden globes for eyes, ouch. It took every ounce to remain her composure as the pain urged her to defend herself. But she needed to play this out smartly. Mira takes this moment to do the same as the large wolf did drawing forth her scent. She could smell the scent of the man that had helped her in the woods. Peculiar.

However, despite that utterly tense moment something almost unexpected happened. Her massive curled tail began wag and her tense composure seems to ease slightly, that blade still unmoving and embedded within her muzzle. The smell of blood, their blood and his, seeped into the air with that coppery assaulting smell. The tension leaves her for now, but she couldn’t stand seeing that hilt sticking out of her face, blood steadily dripping from her gigantic muzzle. Mira allows her tail to idly move to and fro, allowing her stance to not hold that regal rigidness it held once before and into something far more relaxed, despite that cursed piercing pulsing pain in her side.

She takes this moment to press her luck, to move languid and steadfast, her maw held agape with the intent to grab the hilt betwixt her teeth. She moves quick, knowing it would hurt less if she did so, but also risked the tattooed wolf snapping at her with those menacing teeth that could surely crush her wind pipe. She tore it out, keeping it as steady as she could in her smaller height, using the hunter’s lifeless corpse for added height. Once the blade was out she whipped her head to toss the bloodied blade into the nearby bushes, like it were a twig. The movement jarred her, reminding her of her own pain once more. ‘Fuck..’ she hisses.

Mira does return to face her, golden eyes expectant and waiting. At least the poor beast could think straight without a dagger sticking out of her face, like some horror film scene. It would take some time for that deep wound to heal and she fights the urge to explore it. She does not move to examine that gaping slice, but waits to gauge the others response as tension once more floods this grisly scene.

Mira Ramos




Replies

Post A Reply