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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'm The Hero Of My Own Story {Open}12.216.225.10Posted On November 24, 2017 at 10:24 AM by Adelaide Claire LaBelle

i'm the hero of my own story, don't need a knight in shining armor

Weak sunlight filters through the wooden blinds that hung in the large window at the winter afternoon ticked lazily on, pale golden shards touching carefully down upon fair skin as the French woman lay draped contentedly over the length of the red velvet chaise lounge that sat there near the brick fireplace. The soft cracking and snapping of the fire that roared within the glass and iron, dancing fiercely across the scorched wood that it fed ravenously upon it, allowing for those hot crimson flames to fill the living room with its warmth. Dark chocolate hair cascade over refined shoulders and supple breasts, slender frame covered partially by the warm faux mink throw the blanketed her waist and hips comfortably as she lay there on her side, the young woman dressed casually in those favored satin sable pants that clung loosely over slender legs and flowy and elegant V-neck powder silk crepe de chine top. Per the usual, clasped lightly in those slender hands rested a book, those pages opened as sage eyes caressed the intricately woven words as she indulged herself in the literature it offered her. Some might have thought that she might be reading some steamy romance or perhaps a suspenseful mystery novel, but a closer look at those pages and their artfully drawn illustrations reveal this particular book to be of the Amazon jungle in the heart of Brazil, a place that was only one of many that so captivated Adelaide. She admires the sketches of the exotic creatures that were documented and studied to not only live, but thrive there in the humid and dense forest with its vast rainfall and lush greenery. It was not that the young French woman did not expect joy the occasional artistry of an author that skillfully wrote those mystery or science fiction books, but when it came to what she thoroughly found herself consumed by, it was the writings of those that had seen the world and one or many of its great wonders. It was the closest she could ever come to exploring those wild wonders, but at least away from the estate of her father on the outskirts of Paris, she was just a little closer to those uncharted places she yearned to see one day.

The sound of nails clicking against tile and polished hardwood floor does little to stir Adelaide from looking away to the source of the sound, her mind needing not to see the creator as she already knew who it was that made their way towards her. There is a sudden presence in as the harlequin Beauceron female she'd named Rose came to sit regally beside that chaise lounge, pink tongue lolling out of her mouth ever so slightly as milk chocolate eyes looked to the young woman. Only when Rose scoots closer to the chair, stretching out her neck a nudge Adelaide's arm gently in a gesture of wanting do sage eyes lift from those pages for a moment to admire the beautiful creature she loved dearly."Bonjour, Rose. Where is Reginald, hmm?", she asks her companion who she knew very well would not be able to answer her, silken accented lyrics ushering gently from sultry dusted rose lips. Smiling softly to the Beauceron, reaching out to the affectionately stroke the place between those cropped ears, causing the creature to give a soft whine of contentment before she lowers herself to lay stretched out on the lavish rug beside the young woman then, resting refined head over those large paws to soak up the same rays of sun pouring into the room. The black and tan male was likely out in the garden with Townsend, the two seeming to have a particularly strong bond though it was fun little surprise to the French woman as that dog enjoyed the company of either herself or the refined Englishman and closest friend to Adelaide. They'd grown up together back on her father's estate, the Townsend family having been the longest standing family that served the LaBelle, and the blonde man had been there for as long as she could remember, having been chosen by her parents to be the companion and servants to the young woman. His refined and ever patient persona proved to be invaluable and certainly very endearing to Adelaide, and while she would have much higher rather moved away from home without being under the watchful gaze of the older Englishman, a part of her was happy that the nobleman had demanded that William accompany her as the only condition to the nobleman's very much agreement that his only daughter could move overseas. In the end, Adelaide had gotten what she desired; her freedom.

Moments later, after the young woman had gone to reading her book once more, the sound of doors leading to the elegantly landscaped backyard lined with shrubs, a couple apple trees, rose bushes of various hues (though none currently colored those skeletal branches), all complimenting the small garden in the far northern corner of the tall wood and lattice fence that bordered the home disrupts the peaceful quiet. The sound of more claws clashing lightly with the well-kept floors echo into the room, prompting Rose to rise from her previously relaxed position to sit back upon those strong haunches with ears perked, her tail swishing lightly across the rug in greeting as Reginald enters the room and moves to touch noses with his female companion.”Miss LaBelle? Were you still desiring a trip to the downtown area?”, came the familiar and refined british tones of the older man as he comes to stand in the doorway, washing the dirt from his hands on a damp washcloth he’d taken from the washroom. Adelaide is only quiet for a moment in contemplation as she casts her sage gaze out the window, The weather was still lovely, so she saw no reason in getting better acquainted to Sacrosanct.”I believe so, Townsend. It has yet to rain and I would like to enjoy some time wandering”, she answers as she turns to look upon the calm man with a fond smile dancing across her lips, dark lashing blinking slowly over almond eyes.”Very good, miss. I shall go tidy up and then we will depart”, he replies with a small dip of his head before disappearing around the corner, his easy steps up the stairwell thumping lightly against the fine wood. She moves her legs off the furniture, gently pushing aside that throw blanket as she moves to rise from her relaxed position, the two canines easily moving out of the young woman’s way and also vanishing around the corner to do whatever it was they desired. Walking between the two pillars in the entry walk and across the hall into Townsend’s study, she stops before the bookshelf and gently returns the book to its place. She would resume from where she’d left off just before bedtime as she always did.

Striding effortlessly through the house and to the garage doorway, she retrieves her favorite teal knitted scarf hanging on the coat rack there and wraps it warmly around her neck and waits patiently for the Englishman to appear. He does not take more than a few moments, the sound of his swift steps down the stairs alerting the French woman to him, turning to watch as he moves to the door and opens it, ushering her lightly through. She walks into the chilled garage where the charcoal gray Peugeot 500 SUV, quickly following by Townsend as he then proceeds to open the passenger door behind the driver’s seat. She slides into the vehicle and buckles her seatbelt, the blonde Englishman following suit and reaching for the button to open the door that slowly rises. Reversing out onto the street and clicking the button once more to close the door, they set off towards the busier part of the city, East Sacrosanct. Sage eyes watch the scenery as they drive in comfortable silence for what felt like perhaps only thirty minutes or so before Townsend parks the car in a vacant parking spot parallel to the paved sidewalk. He exists the car and moves to open Adelaide’s door, waiting patiently for her to collect her leather purse and sling it over her right shoulder.”Thank you, Townsend”, she says sweetly as he closes the door lightly behind her.”You’re quite welcome, Miss”, he replies and the pair begin to walk amidst the various shops and food stands. It certainly wasn’t Paris, but it had its own charm about it, that was certain. They rouse in her the idea that she should open an establishment of her own so that she could only anchor her place far away from her father even more. Deciding that she would re-visit this idea, keen sage eyes observing the types of shops, stands, and restaurants in wordless curiosity as she searched for something that was missing, Adelaide and Townsend walk quietly along, moving with the flow of foot traffic, pausing now and then to peer into the windows full of nicely assorted things before resuming on their way to nowhere in particular.


Adelaide Claire LaBelle•*
dante|image by alexandru zdrobau


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