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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

~we were both headed different ways107.77.97.130Posted On November 06, 2017 at 7:08 AM by elain~



She'd been tucked blissfully away within the folds of silver and sable accents when the all too familiar chiming bells of her a five-thirty alarm filled the quiet that was her room. It starts out soft at first and the young woman is nearly tempted to just lay there a little bit longer, long lashes closed over those icy blues as she contemplates simply fumbling for her phone and swiping the snooze button. The bells get louder than and with a soft groan, she turns over in bed, slender fingers reaching around clumsily for the nightstand on the right side of her queen-sized bed when at last they find the thin mobile device and silence the unrelenting wake-up call. Surely if she would have allowed for it to ring much longer, Lazarus would get woken up and that was absolutely and unquestionably the last thing that girl with honey colored locks wanted. If her big brother was grouchy enough on his own for whatever reasons he so chose to deem worthy without explanation, he'd be equivalent to a pissed off grizzly bear having stones hucked at it if she woke him. Ugh, can't the weekend just be here already? She decides to lay there for a little bit longer, lashes fluttering softly closed against still sleepy eyes like a clear summer sky as she thinks to herself that she'll just doze off for a few more moments (though also knowing in the back of her mind such a chance at a little extra sleep was definitely dancing on the dangerous side of being late and having to rush her shower and normally relaxed morning routine before class), thinking silently of the adventures that would be waiting for her in the next few days.

That being said, while the young woman was certainly excited about the idea of not having to sit through hours' worth of lessons and lectures at the college she had started going to only just yesterday so that she and Lazarus could familiarize themselves with this big city that would now be there new home away from home, Elain did enjoy her classes - especially her English classes. Shakespeare, the art of poetry, those were her true favorite while the very bane of her existence was the dreaded calculus class that was very much a needed course she would have to take. There was no question about her passion found in words, how someone could take a handful of them and intricately arrange them to tell some of the most beautiful or tragic stories, how scribbles on a piece for paper (or laptop screen, whatever tool was at one's disposal though she did relish in an elegantly hand-written piece) could become a painting in the reader's heart. She could go on forever about how she adored poetry, romance novels as well as science fiction or suspense... but when it came to numbers, she became about as lost as a bat in daylight. Sure, it all made sense with all the addition, subtraction, division and so on and so forth, but for one reason or another her mind struggled the worst to comprehend all the boring logic and lack of bright color that came with mathematics. How anyone could love such a blunt and almost cold thing was beyond her, but everyone had a thing right? And that she knew was only fitting to be both mindful and respectful of.

Finally convincing herself that she'd laid there long enough and that just maybe if she could get going early enough she might have time to check out that little coffee shop she'd seen while driving by in the moving truck a few days ago, she rolls over to the edge of her bed and throwing her feet over the side and onto the carpet she rises up from the warmth she could have stayed in all morning and walls quietly across her room and carefully opens her bedroom door. There is a quiet creak as it opens wider and wider still, but as she peeks around it to see that his bedroom door was closed she smiles to herself and walks through the doorway just to the left of her bedroom and closed the bathroom door behind her. Drawing back the sliding glass door, she reaches in and turns on the water to begin warming her shower. After a few moments, the steam begins to build up and she climbs into the shower stall, and delighted sigh escaping her lips as the warm water runs through her hair and over her body. Ten minutes pass her by when she turns to shut off the running water, nice and squeaky clean, and grabs the soft white towel she'd draped over the door. Drying herself off and wrapping the towel around her, she quietly leaves the bathroom and closes her bedroom door behind her and moves into the walking closet. Pale blue eyes sweep over the array of tops hanging in sporadic fashion as she contemplates now what she felt like wearing today. Her gaze lights up when she finds one of her favorite blouses, a flowy navy blue v-neck top with flared long sleeves. Being the querky girl she could often be, she'd always felt sort of like a gypsy in this shirt and absolutely adored not only the style and the softness of the fabric but also just one light and comfortable it was. She removes it from the hanger and opens the dresser drawer almost entirely hidden by her many shirts to find a nice pair of pale blue flare jeans while also of course grabbing the needed undergarments and exits her mini department store (or so Lazlo always called it anyway which never ceased to cause Elain to laugh openly and insist that she needed each and every article of clothing in there and more) and dresses herself quickly.

With hair now brushed and dried, draping over her shoulders and down to the small of her back in its naturally wavy style, she glances at the time display on her phone and realizes that it was only 6:17am. She had more than enough time to explore the mystery of what rested behind that door below the wooden sign that had read "Inner Sanctum". Just the name left her boy fascinated and mystified and she knew she just had to see for herself what would have given it such an alluring name. The faint light of morning finally brightens the overcast sky as she looks at the window over the head of her bed and she can hear the soft pitter patter of raindrops on glass. Some might have frowned at the idea of needing to walk places in the rain, especially those who spent all too much time fussing over their hair, but not Elain. Stepping out of her room with her paisley messenger bag slung across her body, she descends quietly down the stairs with her hand gliding gently over the wooden railing until she enters into the living room of the quaint little townhouse they'd made into their home. There were still boxes scattered here and there across the room filled with things that would need to be unpacked but if Lazarus didn't get to it when he woke up later then she'd just do it herself - not that she minded really because then that meant she could have everything set up how she wanted. She makes her way over to the coffee table to grab her keys and change purse, tucking both into her pockets then turning in her heels she opens the closest door to grab her black windbreaker that would be just enough to keep the wind and rain off her skin and from drenching her shirt. It was only a light drizzle after all. With all of her things gathered and excitement sparkling in those pale aquamarines, she strides quietly across the living room, through the kitchen, and out into the chilled morning that just seemed to be calling her name.

Front door locked, she now descends down the small flight from stairs and ebony tennis shoes touch down onto the sidewalk of Sacrosanct in the midst of the eastern hustle and bustle. She follows behind a number of people, icy blues eagerly searching for that café she was almost dying to try. Careful to avoid from running into the shoulders of those walking past her, she meanders through the streets until finally she finds what she was searching for. There is a bright smile dancing upon her lips as she reaches for the door and allows herself in, her every senses greeted by the warmth and liveliness of Inner Sanctum. She stands there almost stunned as she admires the many knick knacks adorning the walls, the stained tables where many people were sitting either with company or by themselves either reading or chatting quietly. Where she and Lazarus were from, there had been coffee shops aplenty but none quite as inviting and invigorating as this. After taking a few moments just to drink it all in, the girl with honey locks and pale blue eyes walks up the counter where she is greeting pleasantly by a platinum blonde with ruby red lips curled into a courteous smile."Good morning, miss. What would you like?", asks the barista with sugary sweetness laced into her words. Elain studied the menu for a moment before looking back to the woman on the other side of the counter."I'd like a medium white mocha, please. With whipped cream", the young woman replies as she reaches into her pocket to pull out the change purse and gives the barista a five dollars bill and gesturing to put whatever change was left over into the tip jar. She walks over to the other side of the bar now where she was to retrieve her crafted drink when it was ready, turning to stare out at the sea of faces while she waited.

She was surprised to say the least when she'd expected to see nothing but unfamiliar faces when suddenly icy blues spot him in the furthest corner with those fierce amber eyes staring almost absent-mindedly out the window he sat next to. She could never forget such a solemn yet handsome face, that she was sure of for she'd recognized him from her calculus class. She turns to grab her coffee as the barista places it on the counter beside Elain who then ushers a quiet thank you before moving through the tables and makes her way over to the one who captured her attention the first time she'd seen him. There is no shyness in the young woman as she approaches him, a radiant smile asthma upon her pretty features as she taps his shoulder lightly with hope that she wouldn't startle him. She could see that he was definitely absorbed by whatever was on that screen, tuning out the sounds around him with the headphones that were plugged into his ears, something that her brother would have quickly scolded her for."Always keep your senses about you, Elain. You know how dangerous the world can be", his tenor voices echoes in the recesses of her thoughts. He always seemed to make it a point that there were bad people out there, but Elain refused to live her life so full of suspicion. How was she to make new friends if she looked at everyone like they were out to get her? She focuses back on the handsome individual sitting there with his coffee and school equipment, her smile never faltering from her soft features."Hello. You wouldn't happen to be in Witherspoon's calculus class, would you?", she asks the familiar stranger, wondering if he'd heard her past the music that played from his device. She was so certain that this was the same guy she'd seen in her class, but then again she was prepared to look like some crazy person if he just so happened not to be who she thought he was. And even then, she didn't exactly know who he was, but those eyes were hard to forget.
Elain Chase Daray
image by etienne beauregard riverin


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