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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; chizue69.145.144.152Posted On March 22, 2017 at 8:29 PM by malek ackerman

Malek Ackerman

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



As his gray eyes open, Malek drags a hand across his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he lays there for a while, enjoying the silence in that dark bedroom. Yesterday was interesting, to say the least. He had been hunted by a fellow vampire and it was altogether confusing, though he did rather enjoy toying with Arlo. A chuckle emits from his throat at the recent memory as he pulls himself from the bed, shaking the slumber from his limbs as he moves towards the bathroom, cranking the shower on as hot as he can stand. Slipping under the endless stream, he hums his appreciation as he lathers his body quickly so he can simply enjoy the heat emitting from the water.

He finishes only when the water begins to run cold, stepping from the shower he wraps a towel around his waist, the water streaming from his hair in rivulets. Giving a small shake to his head, as if he were a dog, he quickly grabs another towel to dry his hair as best as he can, but it’s still damp even when he is dressed and on his way out of his home.

Clad in jeans that are slung low over his hips and a loose fitting black button, he shoves his hands in his pockets, strolling down the sidewalk as the cool air nips at his still drying, unbound hair. An easy smile is stretched across his lips as he makes his way through the now familiar neighborhood reaching his favorite bar. Pushing through the doors, he’s delighted to see that it’s a fairly busy evening, perhaps he will have another exciting evening.

With hopeful eyes, he raises a casual hand to wave at the bartender, who in turn, gives him a nod and has a drink ready for him as he slides into an empty barstool. Commenting his thanks, he swirls the amber liquid in his glass, taking a sip, his eyes brighten immediately giving a nod of appreciation.

Turning in his barstool, he leans his elbows along the bar, his drink held in such a casual way, the alcohol forgotten for the time being as his steely eyes roam over the rather exotic crowd tonight. Brows furrowed at the brightly clothed patrons, he looks over his shoulder, brow raised in confusion at the bartender, “What is all this?” he asks lazily.

”Some sort of rave,” the man shrugs and goes back to polishing a glass. Again, his brows narrow slightly at the man, bartenders actually polished their glasses? In all his centuries, he had truly never seen anyone polish their glasses. Quirking a smile, he returns his gaze back to the crowd, an amused expression dancing across his features.

You're my whiskey. From time to time.



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