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    The North

    Within the Northern vicinity of the city the wealthy gather behind meticulously trimmed hedges and high class victorian architecture. The streets are paved with stone, the buildings are made of brick, and the storefronts are brightly lit and inviting. In the North every establishment is made to cater to the rich and the wealthy. Many such places are used to the sometimes peculiar requests of the otherworldly but here there is little that money cannot buy - weather it be illegal or merely looking the other way. Vampires and Dark Hunters are often found upon these Northern streets, their long lives often contributing to their sizable wealth which allow them the luxuries that the North provides.

    What's You'll Find Here

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    St. Pancras Station

    owned by Eve Thorn
    0 employees

    St. Pancras Station

    A historical train station renovated in to a luxury resort-style country club that unites Victorian elegance with contemporary style. Relax in the full-service spa featuring spa treatments, saunas, spa pools with hydro therapy & aqua bar, and relaxation lounges. The club offers many dining and entertainment options including Seven Sisters Lounge, Victoria Bistro, Barlow Gastropub and the formal St. Pancras restaurant as well as boutique shopping and event halls. Join The Chambers Club for a more exclusive entertainment experience.

    Owner Eve Thorn

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    The VooDoo Room

    owned by Ceara Hade
    0 employees

    The VooDoo Room

    The Voodoo Room is an award winning bar that aims to provide an eclectic and exotic atmosphere. The bar is filled with intoxicating liquors and a voodoo vibe to keep you coming back. Their mixologists meet the highest standards with our fantastical themed selections of cocktails and specials.

    Owner Ceara Hade

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    The Witchery

    owned by Rowena Metcalf
    1 employees

    The Witchery

    Dark, gothic, and throughly theatrical, the Witchery is a place to indulge yourself with it's fabulously lavish suites. Whatever room you choose, you'll find glamor, indulgence and luxury. The suites you have to choose from are: the Vestry, Sempill, the Old Rectory, the Library, the Turret, Heriot, Guardsroom, Armory.

    Owner Rowena Metcalf

    Sous Chef Elenore Dorian

I'm my own worst enemy ISOLT184.148.43.114Posted On May 12, 2017 at 10:06 AM by HARLEY WESTWARD




We're all rotten, buried and forgotten,

Living it up underground



Sacrosanct, the city riddled with the supernatural and misfits of all kinds, a city that could swallow you whole, chew you up and well, eat you. What else was new? It seemed like just her kind of place, not too much different than the last one she had come from and it was certainly a fresh start with some familiar faces. It was exactly what the doctor ordered. She didn’t know where Isolt lived these days but one way or another she would hunt her friend down, whether she liked it or not. Perhaps being closer would help mend this fractured distance between them, it had went on far too long. She plunges her hand into the pockets of her favourite leather jacket pulling out her cellphone, nimble fingers poised over letters as she types furiously to her redheaded companion. An impish grin finds its way to her parted lips.

[So guess whose finally back… for good now. You only have one guess and your one hint is get your ass to the voodoo room tonight at sundown.]

She paused, smirking at her handy work. But what if she didn’t show? She frowned, sighing in frustration. Fine, she groaned internally.

[Just let me know if you’re going so I am not just waiting making an idiot out of myself.]

Sneaky little minx Harley, she had changed her number before moving. So she wondered if Isolt would even put two and two together. But who else possessed Harley’s charming personality?

She could pick up and go anywhere she desired, her job as a tattoo artist opened up all kinds of doors, but old habits die hard. At least she would never be a caged bird, chained to only one cage. But damn she wanted something familiar, something friendly after the shit storm she kicked up. She would never admit that recent events and terrible decisions had left her feeling more alone than ever. What else was new?

The closest thing to family she had left was Isolt and of course, that big black loveable monstrosity in the form of a German Sheppard, Ace. He was far older than Isolt had remembered him last and had slowed down considerably, white now peppering his once all black muzzle. Whenever her vibrant violet eyes looked at him, she was reminded by her own mortality and wondered just how many memories she would have left with her favourite senior. This was the painful reality of life, but it didn’t ever feel like enough. It never did. Life was indeed so very fragile like a weak flame, flickering precariously until it inevitably burnt out. It did not take much for that mortal flame to be snuffed out in a world full of supernatural creatures. Everyone had an expiration date and hers and her boy Ace’s was far too close for her liking. Not if she could help it.

She was unpacking her copious amount of useless yet sentimental shit in an apartment deep within the west end, the same building her and Isolt once shared as roommates. The familiarity was almost too startling and nostalgia struck her hard with a vengeance that surprised even her. It was almost enough to dampen her mood. She emptied at least half of the boxes, the rest would just have to stay that way for now. She even hung up that iconic Felix the cat clock with his shifty eyes and up to no good grin plastered upon his plastic face, it would hang in the same spot that it once hung in the kitchen.

Ace was snoring loudly on the couch, she nearly threw a dish towel in his direction, but was very suddenly interrupted by the buzzing of her phone, alerting her to a text message. Violet eyes peer down upon the soft glow of her phone. With an untamed grin upon her lips, the response was positive. It was on.
-
Everything was set perfectly in the motion, she had about twenty two minutes, give or take, to make it to the Voodoo room and meet her long lost red haired friend. The violet eyed spitfire was all ready to go, she placed a kiss upon Ace’s head, who groaned at her mildly, wagging his tail lamely before going back to sleep. “Don’t stay up.” She said wryly, rolling her eyes before grabbing her purse and she was out the door. The cab was there already waiting and mildly perturbed with her lack of punctuality. She was too pleased by her master plan in tricking Isolt into meeting her.

Somehow within the unbearable silence of that ride into the downtown core, she grew impatient with the cabbie’s speed. “My grandma drove faster than you.” She just couldn’t help herself, something to tide over her boredom and slight edginess that seeped in. The man muttered something in his own mother tongue, clearly not impressed with the midnight haired firecracker sitting in the back seat of his yellow cab. It was a good thing it wasn’t a long trip, or it might as well have been insufferable! After he was paid and Harley had just barely closed the door behind her, the cab’s tires screeched, the smell of rubber assaulted her nostrils as he pulled off. If only he had driven like that to begin with he would have gotten a nice tip. Asshole. If eyes were on her, she didn’t notice nor cared. She wasted no time entering the bar, wearing her favourite pair of jeans, that same leather jacket she practically lived in, and fitted band tee, with just the right amount of plunge.

Her eyes quickly scan the bar with expert ease, spying that long iconic red hair at the bar. She knew it was her, she sat alone at the bar waiting. Shit, was she really that late, but excitement still fluttered within her chest. She didn’t dare to look at the time. Instead, she broke out in a brisk stride which carried her to the person that would undoubtedly be Isolt. She could recognize the back of that head anywhere. She hoped she still possessed that advantage of surprise, that the slight thud of her boots wouldn’t betray her. “Miss me, Izzy?” Those feminine sardonic yet laced with warm notes floated toward the woman, an iconic smirk upon her lush lips. Yup, it has been far too long.




Harlequin Ray Westward






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