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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

had worn them really about the same101.176.136.166Posted On June 28, 2017 at 1:05 AM by Dorian Aragona


It was a thing of great curiosity to him, to hear that tale of just how the Frenchman and Alexander had met and more so- why it was that Alexander so saw fit to pay any attention to Matteo at all if the Fae had been merely a boy at the time. Why such information was of importance to him he hardly knew and yet there was a delight of sorts to be taken in hearing those tales. The Monarch finding he near relished in them even if Alexander was the very sort of person, it seemed, given to speak only in short, factual details rather than those grand elaborate tales Matteo so often told. The contrast between the two men was utterly startling to him, his ever observant mind so content to compare and contrast those two beings. Alexander so far appeared a more serious, sterner sort of fellow, a man good with detail and of a good common sense. The sort whom would be trustworthy when it suited him to be and with an appreciation for order if the neatness of the café was anything to go by. Matteo, in comparison, was as reliable as he was serious, far more prone to teasing humour and veritably impish. It was, however, as Dorian had heard said many times before that it was the way of the world that opposites held attraction to one another. Each of them, perhaps, providing what the other lacked. Alexander so apparently having seen something in Matteo all those years ago that appealed to him. How fortunate it had surely been for both of them and- foolish though it was- Dorian so found himself desiring to have the approval of the man before him in turn. Alexander was important to Matteo and by that connection alone it was near imperative he should find favour with Dorian too.

It was the mention of oracles, however, that so seemed to seize his attention then. The use of the word familiar to him if only for his wholly impressive ability to retain that information he read. Dorian’s utter fascination with the world at large so assuring no topic was ever too dull for the man to read about even if he was assured he bored Sebastian some evenings in his efforts to regale his lover with whatever new discovery he had made that day. Sebastian, ever-patient, was never too busy to listen even when it surely hardly interested him and yet, here and now, such knowledge perhaps provided itself with a use. Dorian inquiring then as to the heritage of the Hunter before him, that subtle nod of affirmation that Alexander was indeed Greek seeing that grin upon his lips brighten all the more. Dorian speaking then of that singular book within his possession that he had so struggled to read and all but given up upon that dictated much on those ancient Oracles. Some languages, after all, were older then Dorian himself and outside off his own ability to learn without assistance. Alexander’s request to see that book met with his own nod.

“I can bring it to you this coming weekend if you should like?”

He had little use for a book he could not read, after all and surely it would not be too terrible for Alexander to entertain his company again? Perhaps then he might so have more time to ask those other questions about several more of the oddities that adorned those shelves and intrigued his mind. All such novelties very near forgotten in the wake of that tale of Paris. That Matteo and Alexander together had all but founded the city! This was a glorious achievement. How or why the Frenchman had never mentioned he hardly knew, Dorian so not yet having considered the dangers within that time of so admitting to their supernatural species and the risks to their lives it may have posed. How humble Alexander was about it all! The Hunter speaking as if the very founding of one of the world’s most exquisite cities was no big deal. Dorian near dumbfounded at such information.

“You have lived a terribly exciting life.”

He commented readily, Dorian oblivious to just how exciting the life of his Godfather truly had been. The Fae King so impressed with but one conquest of Paris alone without but any knowledge of the true extent of Matteo and Alexanders veritable adventures across the globe itself. Dorian near envious of those lives others lived with such freedom! The Monarch so refusing to display such futile emotions now in that declaration he so struggled not to be bothersome. It was, perhaps, one of those almost unfortunate perks off his Kingship. Others were so duty bound to indulge him on whatever it was he so desired to discuss that few ever so hard the courage to inform him they wished to speak of something else. Alexander, for his part, waving off that concern readily before declaring he had a gift for the man. That suggestion he should not get too excited was perhaps offered far to late. Dorian so unashamedly delighted by gifts of any sort, the man finishing the remains of his drink before moving to follow the Hunter up those stairs and into that almost cozy flat about. It was…decidedly small and yet even Dorian was so willing to admit it was a pleasant sort of space, the warmth within was resounding, those books and curiosities that adorned the walls intensely appealing to him. It reminded him, almost, of that library within Belton. The man assured he could spend any length of time exploring just that room alone. His attention at last drawn back to the Hunter as he opened that box to hand him that misshapen coin.

His fingers ran across that surface with a clear curiosity, the man feeling those rough edges of the almost crudely made artefact. He had never quite seen a coin like this before, those word of appreciation falling readily from his lips as Alexander assured him of its use. That coin a distinctly useful gift and one the man would be sure to keep with him should he ever need it. His silver gaze lingered then upon those words carved into the surface, words too old for him to truly read, the Monarch tilting the coin slightly before inquiring as to just what those words said. Dorian glancing up towards the other man at last as Alexander simply commented over his shoulder that the words decreed that coin the property of King Alexander. That title of the highest nobility not lost upon him. Dorian glancing between that carved image upon the coin and the man before him.

“You are a King?”

The question tumbled from his lips near unbidden. Dorian momentarily aghast he had allowed the other man to make him coffee! A king surely did not make coffee, even for another King. The Fae so struggling for an appropriate measure of decorum and yet the question as to what exactly Alexander was King off….or had once been King off remained to be seen. Had the man not said he was Greek? Yet the Kings of Greece, at least in modern times, had so begun with Otto the First. Dorian’s knowledge upon the man decidedly limited outside off his assurance the boy had been a poor King. Yet Alexander was certainly not Otto. The coin he held decidedly older then the 1800s. His features so shifting into a frown of sorts in that contemplation.

“Might I ask how old you are? I am merely seeking to place you within history.”

If Matteo had been a mere boy when they had met then this placed Alexander older then Matteo’s near eighteen hundreds or so years. Dorian so struggling to comprehend that mathematics, the man content to think out loud in that moment. His own decorum momentarily forgotten in the wake of the utter amazement of that veritable discovery he was assured he rested upon the pinnacle off.

“If you are older than Matteo then this places you well in antiquity though I fear my own knowledge of history may not be this expansive. You are not Alexander of Macedon are you? It is the only Alexander I know to have existed and I- did you really know Aristotle?”

Whom else but Dorian, after all, might find such delight in so meeting someone whom had, supposedly, met Aristotle himself! That great philosopher whose writings even he had learned off within the palace walls. Dorian, unlike so many, hardly finding interest in the man’s great military career but rather those people he had met and those places he had seen. The Fae King, perhaps, far more intrigued by who Alexander was rather then what he had done if the man truly was as he believed him to be.

“Your Kingdom was far, far more vast then my own. I hardly know how you kept up with it! You must have had very god advisers. Have you truly seen the Pyramids of Egypt?”



Dorian Aragona




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