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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

i ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd101.179.239.202Posted On November 05, 2017 at 11:10 PM by Rixon Leifsson


That simper of sorts managed to find his own lips in response to the sound of Tetradore’s chuckle. The Panther readily assuming that Frost would surely not be disposed off so easily as merely dropping him off in the woods and driving away would entail. The stallion entirely inclined to agree with him. After all, the snowy-haired man would merely have walked back to that city if required and if only to prove a point at the same time. The man momentarily alarmed at how very like Alexander such a thought surely sounded and yet for now he allowed such a thought to pass, Frost nodding simply in response to that assurance they were nearly there. Although where ‘there’ was exactly remained to be seen. That trip outside the city hardly having been anticipated in any sense. That sports car proceeded to turn off that winding mountain road then, the vehicle rolling onto the sort of dirt track designed to damage a car like this. Those next few minutes a far less smooth ride then the Bugatti had offered so far. Tetradore at last pulling up at a clearing of sorts, the charred remains of what had once to obviously been a building existed within that tangle of weeds and undergrowth and grass that was slowly attempting to grow over it. Those blackened poles and collapsed stone a stark contrast to the otherwise natural environment and yet why on earth that other Alpha had driven them an hour outside of town to see a ruin he hardly knew. Frost eyeing that wreckage with a near dubious look before sliding from the car in some effort to continue to afford his companion the benefit of the doubt.

His own jean-clad figure leant easily against the hood of the car then and beside his companion, Frost reaching for that offered beer almost eagerly as that top was readily discarded. His violet gaze wandering across that battered landscape once more before returning to Tetradore with a clear look of expectation now. There had better be a reason for this bizarre little journey into the middle of nowhere. Those frostily offered words indicating as much before the stallion fell silent again, another sip of that drink taken in the interim. Tetradore assuring him there was a purpose for showing him that family home that had clearly fallen into ruin some years ago. Those following words seeing his gaze flicker back to the feline again. What he was up against? What perfectly peculiar way of wording that. Hmm, maybe this was worth listening too. Such words decidedly well played by that Panther all the same.

“Go on.”

He prompted then in that same near emotionless tone that seemed to embrace most of his words. Frost willing to entertain that so called offer, or in the very least, to hear it. The idea that there had once been a hundred strong pack here was perhaps unsurprising. It was a good location, especially for the feline kind. They, like horse herds, were prone to large families. Expansive, single-species packs were not unusual and yet- the singular and purposeful annihilation of one was almost unheard off. Frost’s tongue brushing across his lips in that single contemplative gesture at that mention of fire. A natural disaster then. A home like this, surrounded by trees would see a single spark become a veritable bonfire. It was perhaps not too difficult to envision. Though how had so many lives been lost? Had every single member of that pack been asleep when the fire had struck? His internal thoughts silenced then at that consideration of Nadya’s rescue and that delinquent’s fleeing into the trees. That mention of murder providing that tale an unseen twist of sorts, Frost’s gaze lingering on those charred beams as Tetradore continued. She? How dark that tale became then- and how quickly it descended into the veritable blackened hell that Frost himself knew all too well. Those things Tetradore did not say hardly needing to be voiced if only because the stallion knew so innately what they were. Every single one of them. He hardly meant for his affinity to reach for the other man’s thoughts as it did in that moment, flashes of Tetradore’s memories illuminating his own mind then like some horrific slideshow of a life so much like his own had been. Those Hunter’s merely replaced with a vampire. Frost near flinching away from those imagined vampiric hands that seemed to reach for him as if envisioning that cold touch upon him.

He could almost feel that sweat threatening to dampen his skin as he hurriedly pulled that silent affinity back from the other man’s mind. Tetradore’s memories a near violent trigger for his own, the stallion forcefully attempting to discard them back into the far reaches of his own mind. His features remaining near expressionless as he did, the man giving away nothing of that near internal war that threatened to ravage him now, Frost oblivious to the way his grip upon that bottle had tightened even despite that outward placidity he offered. That singular mention of where ‘he came in’ seeming to abruptly ground that stallion once more. Frost allowing his gaze to lift to Tetradore at last, that equine offering little indication of those memories he had pilfered as he regarded the panther almost warily then. There were few moments in life in which the Icelandic man could ever claim he had been truly surprised and yet this was distinctly one of them. Even Frost incapable then off allowing that mask to remain in place at that declaration Tetradore, of all beings, intended to name him heir to that Nightshade pack- bequeathing him all that came with it in the event of his death at the hands of some lunatic vampire woman. Provided he kept those beings safe from her. That single word falling form his lips then in almost a whisper and yet no small amount of venom laced it all the same.

“Fuck.”

That. It seemed, was all the stallion was momentarily capable off. His gaze glancing down to the rest of those beers with the brief consideration that was not enough for this. That silence suddenly seeming to permeate then and yet Frost made no effort to alleviate it this time- not yet. For several long moments his gaze merely returned to that pile of rubble, long fingers drumming against his arm in clear consideration, the man fighting to return that near indifferent attitude to his demeanour before he pushed off that car. His steps slow, methodical, the stallion merely wandering towards one of those singular beams, the toe of his boot bumping against it before that drink was at last lifted to his lips again- one hand run through that snowy hair. Frost nothing if not cunning when it came to deals of any kind. His mind already circulating a near plethora of possibilities- and questions.

“Let me make sure I understand this. You’re offering me your pack, your business, everything you own- essentially- in the event of your death, with the stipulation I have to keep them safe from some mass murdering vampire bitch with cat-controlling powers?”

One eye arched upwards in that same moment. Frost seeking some assurance that he had understood that plan on some level, another swig of that drink taken then as his arms folded across his chest.

“If her threat is true and she has these fails safes in place then the only thing you’re really offering me is a fucking war.”

If this…woman already knew of Nadya and her children though, how long was it before she came for them? Was this a war he had already been destined to fight if only to protect his own pack? That singular spark of irritation flaring within him then. Who did this vampire bitch think she was? Frost a dangerously possessive creature when he chose to be, the man oblivious to the notion it was that very possessiveness Tetradore had so been banking on in turn. The thought of Tetradore’s business, his money, his cars and everything else was undeniably tempting and yet it was the very epitome of fool’s gold. With those very things came the very real possibility of a fight to keep them. Frost hardly prone to making rash decisions even despite those notable rewards. Yet- more than that thought of what he might gain a singular more potent ideal existed still, one he near feared to admit too and yet how it irritated his insides like a razor. How he loathed those beings, those ones like that woman from Tetradore’s nightmares who so believed they….owned them. That. That alone was enough of a reason to deny that vampire woman anything she wanted in his mind. Oh how she should prey Tetradore never met his death at her hands if only for the storm Frost was entirely sure he could bring against her, that indomitable will, it seemed, already turning within him. The stallion draining that last of that beer then before making his way back to the panther. His hand reaching down to grasp a second bottle.

“I have to ask something- before I give you an answer to this offer of yours. Why you? You said your pack was large, why out of a hundred WereCat’s that night did she only take you? Do you have a power of some kind she wanted? Did your parents piss off her coven?”

That bottle was abruptly passed to the other man then. Frost holding it a moment longer- that affinity for cold readily embraced, that sheer chill spread across the drink to afford it the cold the previous one had lacked before releasing it to Tetradore’s hand. Another bottle plucked from that box for himself to be afforded the same treatment.

“If I agree to be your fail safe I’m going to need some more information. Although why you chose me for this I still don’t know. Either you think im strong enough to fight this woman- or I’m the only fool you know mad enough to try- which is it?”

That simper vaguely threatening to tug at his lips then in some thin touch of genuine humor. Even Frost content to find amusement in his own infamous poor temperament.


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




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