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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

Closets are meant for skeletons;64.229.2.127Posted On May 06, 2017 at 10:17 AM by Mira Ramos


There was a fusion of scents clinging to the other wolf’s thick fur, it was safe to assume she was part of a pack. The scent of the man she had met that dark day in the woods, his signature only grew clearer when she took that opportunity to pry during their unique introduction. The smell embedded so deeply within thickness of her coat. Mind you the scents fall to a dull background noise with the thick, tangible aroma of death of this fallen dark hunter stains them. She is, whether she likes it or not, an accomplice. By no means was this fallen hunter a noble creature as it sounded, he was a poor excuse for a hunter, far trigger happy and out for blood to be a rational thinking creature. His life motto could be written upon his forehead with bold letters, shoot first, ask question later. Those still opened lifeless eyes glaring vacantly at them, his potent hatred still clinging to him even in death. She would hold no sympathy for him, nor would she show any remorse to a soul that has probably taken lives that were undeserving of it. It wasn’t her first life she had taken nor would she imagine that it would be her last, even though she could only hope. These were dangerous times after all.

It did not take long for the rats to come calling in the night time lull, the scent of a possibly food source had probably lured this lone rat forward. The city was overflowing with them, but they were skilled at keeping themselves hidden until nightfall where many could roam freely, knowing where to scurry to avoid human eyes. It wouldn’t take long before more came to claim their piece of flesh like an offering. After all this was their city as much as it was anyone else’s. However, Mira’s attention lay elsewhere paying the little creature hardly any attention whilst the dragon tattooed wolf, in her monstrous form did. Growing rather distracted by its erratic and quick movements as it examines the dead body Mira perched on.

It was the perfect opportunity to pluck the blade that protruded from her face and that was exactly what she did, knowing very well it could enrage this feral wolf in front of her. A piercing cry escaped her, skittering back with such a rapidness that would appear only a blur to a human’s eye. The feral creature was not pleased at all. She was poised for attack in her anger that coursed through her with unforgiving eyes. Of course Mira was the one to poke the beast, even if her only intention was to aid her by relieving her of the unsightly blade lodged within her bloodied cheek. Despite the threats that were lashed in her direction she does not answer to its call, in truth she simply sits upon her corpse throne watching her with her intelligent golden gaze. Her eyes do not hold hostility or fear but become a host for curiosity. Her thick tail flicks to and fro despite the menacing growl that escapes the other wolf. This could end badly if it didn’t diffuse soon. She had half a mind to snatch the rat from the corpse and offer it to the wolf, wondering if that would soothe the beast. Bravely or perhaps stupidly, Mira cocks her head to the side, tongue lolling out in an innocent gesture, despite pain throbbing against her side.

Surprisingly, Raven does not spring forward but takes step back, something shifting within her blue-grey eyes as though there was a visual shift from feral to something more intelligent. That was when her body started to quiver and shrink down to size. It was enough to leave anyone in awe. Of course the change from human to beast was impressive, but to change size was almost like a trick of the eyes. It was clear she had another kind of beast living within her, something dangerous and unpredictable. Of course, as were-animals they all possessed this dangerous streak, but this was something different all together.

She lowers her muzzle before stepping down from her perch, all four paws upon the grass before she stops, allowing her space. The smaller wolf that seemed almost lost in a whirlwind of confusion, her ears flatten in an apologetic manner as though all of this was her fault. With a brief pause the dragon- tattooed wolf approaches, her voice ringing out softly, worried and fragile within her mind. She was so unlike the beast that once stood in her place mere moments ago she almost wondered if she imagined it.

“No, you didn’t harm me, but I was starting to wonder. I thought you might rip my throat out when I took out that knife from your cheek though.” Her lips pulled back into what seemed like a wolfish smirk. She would never admit that she was holding her breath for half of a second in that moment when she didn’t know if the beast was going to come after her or not. There was a very distinct certainty knowing it would be all hell breaking loose if the two engaged in combat like that. She wasn’t quite sure if she would make it out alive with her wounded side, the blood still wet while her body desperately tried to heal itself. “What was that?” She tips her head curiously, as she tries to search her for some kind of clue, a natural telltale sign as to what happened but there was none. What was or maybe who was that creature that shoved all trace away of the she-wolf that stood before her?

Sometimes looks were not always what they seemed, even though the she-hulk version still very much appeared to be her, it was quite possible she was something else altogether. She extends her muzzle, drawing forth her scent to see if she smelled different but comes up empty. “Do you remember what happened?” Her voice is oddly gentle as her gaze falls upon her and then to the corpse of the evil man that would never harm another of their kind again.

Mira Ramos




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