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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

some say the world will end in fire (Mira)101.176.145.103Posted On October 11, 2017 at 4:00 AM by Rixon Leifsson


He was hardly following her. No. That would be a little rich. That would imply he cared. Rather- Mira had held the misfortune of bringing herself in line with his gaze that fateful afternoon as the stallion reclined within the confines of the Inner Sanctum café, the man having taken to spending a number of afternoons there even despite the irritating noise of the place. He had fallen into a routine of sorts, waiting for Alexander to finish his shift before joining the man for those training session that often went until the dark of the night embraced them entirely. Frost almost assured he had never been quite so fit as this in all his life and yet he hardly made an effort to inform Alexander that his methods were working, rather, Frost continued to exact himself like a veritable plague upon that quaint coffee shop. The equine having developed a taste for those carrot cupcakes the baker made. Less and less of them managing to make it to the shop front window with each passing day. Frost content to consume them with seemingly unending enthusiasm. He knew well Alexander would surely make him pay for consuming that much sugar with those extra laps of the arena or that more difficult dressage work and yet he could barely bring himself to put down that fourth cupcake all the same. He simply chose not to. That decided stubbornness afflicting the man in both his animal and human guise alike.

It was the scent of her that saw his gaze draw upward, that opened window providing the stoic man with a plethora of scents that he appeared to pay near no attention to as they passed and yet if there was ever an advantage to his prey-classed species it was surely that ever present alertness that lingered within the depths of his conscious no matter how hard he might attempt to conceal it. His violet gaze lifted to peer beneath those locks of strange white hair, the man merely watching her pass with no seemingly outward emotion at all and yet- some vague measure of curiosity tugged at him still. He had long since lost interest in Tetradore and his Pity Party of a Pack. He had taken what he wanted from them and cast them aside as he did most beings. Frost holding truly little feeling for that other Alpha in any sense, he hardly hated the man even despite what others believed. His hate was saved for beings far more worthy of it. Frost allowing precious few to take up residence within his mind and thoughts with enough loathing to beget hate. Tetradore hardly worthy of that throne. The Panther was almost….respectable in his ruthlessness and sheer will to survive. Yet of all that band of merry misfits, outside of Tetradore himself, it was perhaps Mira alone that held some modicum of amusement for him. The only shiny new toy in a bin of the discarded and broken. The one whom held more power then she knew, whom could barely control it, whom might have been useful in the right hands. How unfortunate it was she had chosen her lot.

He watched the woman as she passed by that window, his gaze effortlessly taking note of her clothing, it’s colour and cut and the way she walked amongest that crowd if only to make finding her all the more simple. He rose easily from that armchair a moment later, his hands tucked into the pocket of his jeans as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. It was decidedly easy to trail along behind her. Frost capable of being almost entirely inconspicuous when he chose. His lack of height and slender build seeing him blend easily into that crowd, his white hair alone perhaps standing out and yet unless the woman should turn entirely around she was unlikely to spot it all the same. He continued to wander behind her a little ways still, the man curious of her human form and yet his gaze hardly lingered where a mans might be inclined to, his mind far more curious in other things. The equine waited until that crowd thinned, until Mira fell onto that path beside the park, his lips pursing into a whistle he knew would draw her attention and see her turn. Frost pausing several paces from her then, the man hardly crowding her space and yet lingering upon the edge of it all the same. She almost looked displeased to see him. How unfortunate.

“Well, good afternoon to you too, Mira.”

If she hardly recognised his human form she would surely recognise his voice. Those same cool, smooth lyrics much the same as when he stood in that equine skin, that forelock of mane replaced with that same wild fringe of white hair that hung down and concealed his eyes once more, that violet gaze lingering upon her all the same somewhere beneath as the man lent easily back against the nearest lamp post. Frost allowing that silence to continue for a few moments, the man almost tempted to peer into her thoughts and yet for just that moment longer he refrained from that.

“I’ve solved your Neegan problem.”

Something almost akin to a simper seemed to dance ever so briefly on that otherwise blank façade, the man waiting a few moments longer then as if he almost anticipated some genuine reaction for her before that soft snort echoed from within him, his arms lifting to fold over his chest. His voice lighter then, imitating the young woman’s own tone.

“Thank you Frost, well done Frost- oh don’t look at me like that, that’s what you sound like.”

Those following words were goading, teasing almost and yet his voice hardly held any good natured lilt. The sound of those words almost icy. His features once more remaining little more than some vaguely amused mask as he regarded her.

“You’re not busy are you? Surely you have time to talk to me, hmmm?”


f r o s t
we built this city on broken glass




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