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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

ice, ice baby101.191.10.188Posted On March 14, 2016 at 10:21 PM by Rixon Leifsson

 photo 1638b989-d1ad-4590-8c4d-4d16fc4716cb_zps770e0cc5.jpg

That Nadya seemed hardly concerned with the current state of her children and the manner in which they had proceeded to paint themselves in cake rather than actually consume it assured the equine that, for now at least, neither was evidently at risk of suffocation else any other ill effects. Although whether it was wise to allow them to consume so much sugar he hardly knew, unwilling to question Nadya all the same. Maybe he was a Father- but it was merely by title alone, his experiences with his ow children few and far between- non-existent, for some of them and he is content to push the lingering memories aside, allowing the vaguest of smiles to dare make itself known upon his lips as the violet of his gaze rests upon the children before him. They too, he thinks, were wasted on a pack who hardly appreciated their value. An argument to have for another time perhaps. Nadya’s comments in regards to her attempts to dine with Tetradore and Tobias are met with little more than a thinly veiled look of disdain from the snowy-haired equine, though whether he finds the idea of sharing a meal with such a pair, else the meat itself to be the source of his discomfort remains to be seen, a simper touching his lips once more as lashings of white hair fell readily back across his gaze.

“If it sways you more in my direction then allow me to assure you that is hardly an issue with my pack- I am a vegetarian, you don’t have to share you meat with me, nor need you fear my stealing it from your plate.”

It is an outwardly blatant attempt to endear his own ideals to the woman and yet the manner in which it is delivered, with that cool, easy calm and lingering simper assures the man is entirely aware of it and remains unashamed. His words however are decidedly true, meat, in any form, disagrees with him- the man content to taste the occasional piece of chicken if demanded of him and yet he vastly prefers his own diet- even despite Claire’s cooking skills and the vast variety of meat-based dishes she continued to attempt to tempt him with. The woman’s voice sees his attention return to her once more, the man shifting smoothly to avoid a flung piece of cake he had no desire to add to his attire as she spoke again of his pack and his intentions outside them- head simply nodded.

“Yes, in short.”

He sees no need to correct her from her mention of ‘lucrative business deals’, after all, she was not incorrect. Yet nor does he make any effort to elaborate further- a distinctive trait Frost evidently possessed. Unless asked directly he very rarely moved to offer any information at all and this topic, it would seem, he is content to leave alone. Nadya’s momentary look of confliction however, is hardly the missed, his features frowning ever so slightly before he moves to dismiss the topic all the same. Even if what she asks about next results in a near noticeable agitation for the man. It was neither illogical, nor unexpected to have the woman ask after his past and yet the past- at least in regards to himself, held little joy to be reminded of. His past was rarely understood by those who did not hold knowledge of it in its fullest extent, the woman chocking on her drink hardly seeming to move the stallion at all. She did little more then confirm his thoughts, that even she, with children of her own, perhaps did not fully understand the….nightmare that had been his existence. She had asked for the truth and he had offered it, perhaps something she would think more seriously on before she asked the next time. Even so, what she did with that information remained to be seen. Her rather loud accusation causing several patrons within the coffee house to turn and yet the man had long since read their thoughts, the vast majority of people already having presumed that the young couple before them were indeed a family. Their thoughts perhaps….decidedly less negative when they believed Nadya to be involved with himself, a young family, rather than a reckless teenage mother left abandoned by her boyfriend. How curious perspective was. The woman’s soft, nearly inaudible words almost missed by the young man till she turned towards him with more force.

“Naja.”

He simply waits for her to gather herself, her…displeasure at this knowledge hardly missed and yet on this the man moves to correct her, meeting her gaze with his own.

“I am not involved with this these women, some of these children I have never seen or met. If, one day, one of my children has a desire to meet me then so be it and if not then that is the way it is. I have no part in their lives- I was not allowed and in regards to their mothers I have no desire to. You asked me for the truth and I gave it to you- that is the truth also. There is a very vast difference, Naja, between a pack and a herd, or a harem, as you call it- believe me, I have lived it.”

There is a note of…warning perhaps, within his voice. A touch of irritation that hums delicately beneath his smoothly offered words indicating that she is beginning to tread upon a nerve perhaps, one normally so carefully guarded. He had offered her honesty, a rare thing for the man in any capacity and whether she desired it or not her words had grated against him on some level. She was correct perhaps, in regards to his children and indeed he was willing to take responsibility for such beings. For their Mothers however- barely a scrap of emotion existed. Why should it? Not a single one of his children had been born from even the vaguest touch of affection. To suggest he held any desire to return to such a lifestyle via a harem was perhaps an unwelcome suggestion. His irritation however is brief, fleeting, his features returned to their ever careful neutrality. Others so rarely understood and perhaps he should not have expected it so soon from the woman. For tonight at least, it hardly mattered. He had no desire to argue with the woman. He had given her the truth all the same and he does not find he regrets it entirely. The napkins pushed suddenly towards him however see both eyes lift in mild surprise, gaze moving to the child, napkins and back once more before he moves to reluctantly pick up a single sheet.

“She is…..decidedly….sticky.”

For a moment he simply continues to watch Nadya work with her son, attempting to do much the same with the girl child though his technique was not near so efficient as her own, Frost moving to gently grasp one hand of the girl and then the other, attempting to wipe cake from any part of her stained with it. This was certainly not a task he had performed before, his attempts valiant all the same- though she lacked the entirely clean appearance of her sibling. His touch perhaps almost too gentle though truly the stallion had no knowledge of how much force was safe to apply. He is unaware perhaps, of the contrast in his behaviour in that moment, the same hands that had so mercilessly tortured Raven moved with a distinct and overly cautious gentleness now before the man seemed to give up entirely- tossing the napkin aside.

“She moves too much.”

He moves to return the child to her Mother, stepping away from the table now, waiting for Nadya to organise her stroller before the woman moves to turn suddenly, thrusting the toy horse back towards him with a sudden determination. If he holds any displeasure at her words he refuses to show it, features blank, expressionless, though there is a distinct tightness to his lips all the same as he remains silent a moment, the toy horse thrusting against him grazing his injured side- the man flinching visibly- a cuss muttered beneath his breath. He shifts, readjusting himself, shifting his weight readily to his other side to alleviate the ache in his injured won- attempting to loosely disguise his discomfort as little more than a shift of weight.

Aiden, it would seem, had finally decided to fight back in this little game of tug-o-war, her brother perhaps eternally equipped with the upper hand by way of their shared blood, a ready swell of irritation stirring somewhere within himself and yet one that he ignores- for now. To believe he would concede so willingly was more than foolish, let alone that he would find his own methods by which to fight. His words, when they come, are calm as always.

“Does Aiden not permit the children to have toys?”

He moves to place the toy easily back in her hands, the single action closing the space between them all the same as exhales softly, even the scent of her alone a pleasing thing to him, though for now he merely allows that simper to return once more.

“When you come to me and tell me you are happy there with your brother and you truly mean it, then, Naja, I will believe you.”





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