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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

girl, i'm preyin' on you tonight [open/any]107.77.97.80Posted On November 01, 2017 at 6:16 AM by Lazarus Wolfe



"Do me a favor, Lazlo and just try to stay out of trouble, okay? We both know how you tend to get yourself into less then ideal situations". He nearly scoffed at the echo of his little sister's voice in the back of his mind as he walked along the sidewalk lit up by street lights, a near inaudible grumble sounding from his throat with hands shoved into the pockets of his hooded zip-up jacket. There wasn't much to say about the man that walked through the night, his hood draped over caramel locks and casting a shadow over the chiseled jawline of his face, hiding those forest green eyes that stared straight ahead of him without little care of what rested on either side of the street. With those relaxed jeans fastened comfortably around his hips torn here and there along the legs and faded with the countless times they've been worn, royal blue shirt just barely peeking out from where the jacket did not completely close, he wasn't necessarily someone that omitted a particularly friendly vibe. If anything, he almost seemed pissed. Then again, when didn't he have that serious look upon his features, lips hardly curving at their corners save for the wolfish grin he would often give to a pretty little vixen that would just how happen to walk past him without so much as giving him a passing glance? Hardly ever.

"I can't make any promises. But YOU had better steer clear with those damn college boys. I sure would hate to have to start a hit list after we just moved here". That had been his only promise made to the young woman with icy blue eyes that only ever seemed to meet his hardened glare with amusement and affection. They both knew that due to their past, Lazarus was more than capable of making a clear statement that she was very much off limits. He'd made a promise to their parents that he would keep her safe, and while he truthfully wasn't that much older than her, he was still the big brother that would break faces if he caught even the faintest whiff of cologne on her clothes when she came home from the party her friends were having at the college dorm. He had almost thought to follow her there and hang out in the corner just to make sure some dumba** didn't get too bold or brave. He wasn't above murder; especially given the family history he wasn't about to let anyone in on. Some might say that he was a bit overly protective of the young woman that had been entrusted to his care, but to try and tell the bull-headed man such a thing would surely not blow over too well. Not when he was rather well known for a fearsome temper, and when such a point was reached there was little hope for return on that note.

Looking for nothing in particular, he walked silently down the street and into the eastern part of the city, but it was sounds of music that catch his heightened sense of hearing, the flashing of neon lights that managed to catch those bored eyes not too unlike a dark forest in hue. He stops in his forward strides, head tilting upwards as he reads that sign that causes that signature wolfish smirk to find his chiseled and masculine features. The Cat’s Meow, huh? Sounds promising enough. It wasn’t like he had a girlfriend that would kill him for enjoying one of the many male pleasures that the big city had to offer on this otherwise lack-luster night on his own. He is unsure of what summons the memory as he thinks back to a time when they were kids playing hide and seek in the dark wood on the large property that had once belonged to his family, but as with most things that spur to life deeply buried feelings he is quick know to push them away. Such simple times were long gone, buried with the memories of their mother and father back in the hometown they would never look back to. He can feel the prick of familiar rage rising within his chest and he is quick to shove aside those bitter memories. The whole reason for moving to Sacrosanct in the first place was to get away from all of that. They always said there was no running from the past, that the best thing to do ultimately was to turn and face it head-on. That was what his sister would always tell him, but Lazarus refused to believe that now was a time for trying to address such dark monsters. As far as he was concerned, Elain needed to be far, far away from the things that haunted their past, and he was ready and willing to make sure that her well-being was well out of harm’s way if the day came where he would have to face that life-changing night.

He moves out of the cold, fingers grasping the metal door handle as he invites himself inside. Almost immediately, he finds himself pleased with what he finds beyond that door that closes behind him and he's perhaps even a touch surprised at just how lavish the feeling of comfort and style is when it hardly looked like much on the outside. With the loud music playing out to fill every crevice of this place and engulfing him in a delicious fusion of tasteful bass and beat, forest green eyes sweep over to one end of the building, noticing a large stage where there are a few sexy women dressed in little more than lacey lingerie as they go about entertaining the unknown faces seated at the small round tables scattered in front, and it doesn't surprise him to find that almost every being there was a man. Directly across from the stage on the other side of what he would call a rather extravagant strip club is a fully stocked bar where again there are a few men sitting with glasses in hand and whatever poison they so chose. He stands there near entrance for a moment and decided that he'd at least start at the bar. He had all the time in the world to enjoy a closer view at the seductively dressed vixens after a few drinks.

Walking over to the empty stool on the end of the bar, he reached into his back pocket to rest his wallet on polished walnut as he seats himself there, caring little for posture as he leans in and crosses his arms before him."What'll ya have?", asks the male bartender wearing a casual grin black hair well kept and slicked back and pale blue eyes mindfully meeting Lazarus'. He wore a silken black vest and white button-up shirt with what Lazarus was certain were black dress pants and shined shoes, the finishing touch of course being the bow tie around his neck. Classiest strip club I've ever been to if they dress their bartenders like this all the time, he thinks fleetingly as he gives the man a quick once over before meeting those kind eyes once more."Jack and Coke, if you don't mind", tenor tones answer in reply as he takes the cheap little coaster the bartender hands him. The man gives a nod before turning his back and beginning to fix the requested beverage. It was a wonder that Lazarus didn't like his alcohol as bitter and hard as he was, really but then again he always did have a sweet tooth. He turns his attention back to stage, his expression nearly bored as he focused on the nearly naked entertainer with jet black hair down to that small waist of hers, light mocha skin glowing under the light of the stage as she moved effortlessly and oh so tantalizingly to the beat of the current song. This would be a place that the man with his hood still draped over those caramel locks would be frequenting, of this he was increasingly sure.
LAZARUS WOLFE DARAY
image by Andrew robles


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