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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 wine69.145.144.152Posted On April 27, 2017 at 6:00 PM by malek ackerman

Malek Ackerman

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



The wheels in Malek’s head turned as he watched Arlo hurl his guts up. It turns out Arlo was entirely the same as that coven he had stayed with years ago for a time, studying them, researching their ways. He toys with the rabbit in his hands idly as he questions the boy, not missing the look of surprise and suspicion lingering in his eyes. He would have been astonished if the young vampire hadn’t been suspicious, but before Malek has a moment to explain, Arlo is speaking, explaining his issue. Curiously, he listens, his belief only enforced as he quickly clarifies. Watching his shoulders raise slightly in a shrug, he’s tempted to comfort the young man, to tell him there was nothing wrong with being different. He himself was a strange vampire, a researcher, a scientist in his own right. His kind hardly wanted to be around him at all, they found him utterly curious as to why he refused to drink human blood.

Of course, Malek would never admit to why he never drank from humans.

Clucking his tongue, his attention is drawn back to Arlo as he asks him and its Malek’s turn to give a small shrug, “It was an educated guess,” the vampire admits, shifting the rabbit in his hand again before he raises it to his lips and sinks his fangs into the still warm flesh. Quickly, that blood flows into his mouth and his eyes flutter close briefly as he drinks the sustenance, savoring each mouthful until he’s entirely drained the blood from the small body. Dropping the rabbit to the ground at his feet, his dark eyes move to Arlo as he holds up a hand, “Give me a moment, I’ll be right back,” he states, before he turns on a heel and with inhuman speed, races to the nearby bushes.

In no time, he has a rather bushy fox within his hands, neck snapped, and before he returns to the young vampire, he brings the body to his lips and once more sinks his fangs into the body, albeit grimacing a bit. Malek had never particularly liked fox, they were far too lean tasting, they had an almost rotten venison taste to them, but he wouldn’t complain, not now. It takes him only a moment to drain the fox of its blood and then he’s returning to Arlo, the small body in his hands being deposited on the ground with the rabbit.

“I stayed with a coven for a time, many years ago, and they had an interesting lifestyle. I came to realize it wasn’t just a lifestyle but it was how they were designed, made; these vampires physically could not stomach human blood nor animal blood. Typically, within our world, feeding off one another is an intimate privilege, very few will allow another vampire access to their blood because we find it precious,” he gives a small shrug in his explanation, “I came to find out they called themselves ‘crusniks’, vampires that fed on other vampires. Yes, they would hunt down intruders and kill other vampires that threatened them, which happened quite a lot back then. Vampires were less likely to welcome new vampire species in our world during that age, even know many will refuse to accept vampires that are different. Many find that being diverse is undesirable. It was miracle they allowed me to stay with them at all, perhaps it was because I, too am different. They fed off each other though, which only made their bond as a coven stronger. I stayed for nearly a year before I moved on and last I heard, they are still there.”

Malek lets one hands slide into his pocket as he briefly glances at Arlo’s face, curious to see what the boy thought of all this new information, “I expect that’s what you are though, a crusnik,” he states baldly, not bothering to sugar coat it. He would have found out eventually and as an apology for his blunt answer, he shifts the other hand to his mouth, his fangs slicing across his wrist, until the blood is dripping to the ground. Taking a step into Arlo’s personal space, her offers the young man his wrist, his head tilted slightly, “I don’t do this lightly, but I worry that if I allow you to leave now, your hunger will get the better of you and you may find yourself hunting a vampire that would not so willingly give up his blood,” Malek states sternly, lifting his wrist closer to Arlo’s face, “Quickly, before the wounds close.”

You're my whiskey. From time to time.



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