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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

you're my water you're my wine; arlo69.145.144.152Posted On February 22, 2017 at 8:58 AM by malek ackerman

Malek Ackerman

You're my water. You're my wine.


Another restless night where alcohol could not quite squash that feeling of anxiety finds the man being chased from his apartment, a jacket slung across his shoulders, hair unbound falling in a wave over his shoulder. Reaching up to scratch his chin, he wanders down the oddly abandoned streets feeling the need to feed on something, solely because he was bored. Malek had spent several months in Sacro and though he liked it, he found that he had a rather difficult time meeting people. The vampire didn’t particularly mind traveling alone however, it was rather nice to spend a day or a night with someone, yet many humans and supernaturals had difficulties seeing past his affinity to the vampire beneath.

Heaving a sigh, he finds himself pacing outside of his favorite bar, the bartender had finally forgiven him for his night excursion with Dorian, months ago, for being kicked out and being far too drunk for his own good. Cringing at the memory, he pushes his way through the door offering a weak wave towards the bartender. He notices the stern look pointed in his direction, while Malek gives an apologetic smile, holding his hands up in defeat. Sliding onto the barstool, he orders a drink after convincing the man he wouldn’t cause problems tonight.

The vampire stays awhile, knocking back a few drinks, enough to give him a slight buzz but nothing more. He simply wanted to quiet his affinity for the evening, not get completely drunk. If the man was being honest with himself, he was attempting to limit his amount of drinks in a day. Was that working for him? Not exactly. Forking over the bills, he nods at the bartender before sliding off the stool and exiting the building.

He was saddened to see that the night was still young.

Mumbling incoherently to himself, he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jackets as he continues his stroll down the street. A light breeze ruffles his hair and he lets his mind wander aimlessly, not particularly caring where his feet take him, instead he wonders briefly if he should have worn his hair up or not. When you’re an ancient with little to do in the mundane world and very little friends, he finds himself wondering about little things that have absolutely nothing to do with anything.

You're my whiskey. From time to time.



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