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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

bee to the blossom, moth to the flame; each to his passion; what's in a name?69.145.144.152Posted On April 13, 2017 at 9:20 PM by MIYAKO AIKEN



Though Miyako tried immensely hard to keep that frown upon her face, she is rather distracted by his lopsided grin, that chuckle racing down her spine as if he had whispered in her ear. It was hard to be serious whilst in that tiny space with this absurdly attractive man. So, when he apologies to her using yet another name that did not belong to her, she doesn’t frown, the petite Asian woman merely provides a shy smile. If she had to choose between the two terms of endearment, she would much prefer ‘darlin’. As he responds, she still finds it hard to believe that it wasn’t him who she had so watched the sunrise with.

So, she lets it go, though she does arch a delicate brow at his comment of the use of drugs. She might have preached to him that the use of drugs was hardly legal, yet she bites her tongue. She doubted she would get far with him and who was she to judge? Miyako had hardly been in any situations that might have called for the use of drugs, nor had she ever been drunk in her life. Perhaps if she had a traditional upbringing her life would have been significantly different, she might even have had a normal high school experience. Mi was far too uptight and innocent at her age.

As their conversation switches to that of a humorous matter, the smile widens at his response. “I recommend that you do, I hear it’s difficult to prove that your identity’s been stolen,” she laughs again, such a musical sound as he fingers are snaking up into her hair to move those locks off her neck. She entirely misses the way his eyes drop to the floor as she chews on her bottom lip, unaware that she was causing such things to travel through the man’s mind. It was merely a habit she had picked up when she was nervous or thinking.

Again, their conversation shifts and she worries that she might have upset him. Her brows furrowing briefly at him, she tilts her head to regard him, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that you didn’t work for what you own,” she grimaces, offering a small smile as a form of an apology. And then Miyako is sighing, her weight shifting to her other foot as she’s tugging at the neckline of her sweater, “I wish I could work a 9-5 job,” she murmurs wishfully, “I work nights and it’s very taxing, especially when you have to pay tickets during the day,” she states, not realizing what’s rolling off her tongue before it’s too late.

Her chocolate eyes snap back to his face, wide with embarrassment, “I, er, didn’t do anything bad,” she stammers out quickly, her cheeks flushing pink, “I was just… I mean, who gets a ticket for jaywalking?” she throws her hands on her hips, her face entirely red now that she’s let the cat out of the bag. She’s thankful when he finally offers his name, the woman is able to calm her embarrassment enough that the red is fading from her cheeks, though that pink tinge remains. Yet, she does not the way his blue eyes travel the length of her body, indulging in her womanly shape, that again, sends heat racing down her spine, the heat entirely different from that of the elevator.

It only made her sweater that much hotter as she’s clearing her throat. “I suppose so, I’m very grateful that I wasn’t trapped in here alone,” she offers another brief smile. “I, uh, have a weird request,” she mutters, looking at the floor, that color creeping up her cheeks again, “I, um, am really hot, I’m going to take off my sweater but I have a tank top on underneath, do you mind if I take it off?” she asks quietly, her cheeks a brilliant shade of red. As she waits for his approval, she begins to strip off her shirt, tossing it along with the other clothing items on her bag, her pale skin flashing in the florescent lights. Sighing in relief, a small simper caresses her lips before eyeing him again, “You have a lot of tattoos,” she comments, as her eyes travel his muscled arms, looking at the different shapes and shading of each art piece. “Did they hurt?”

Miyako Aiken



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