East

The east side of the city is the very heart of Sacrosanct - it's unique skyline is a clash between modern sky rises and small Victorian-inspired 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. It's here that magic thrives, it hums in every stone and can be felt in every breath. Often, newcomers to the city may become overwhelmed by such sensations but, eventually, it becomes an ever-present feeling that's hardly noticed.

What You'll Find Here

City Creek Center
Dark Hunter Department
Inner Sanctum
Red on the Water
Starlight Tower

City Creek Center

The City Creek Center is an upscale open-air shopping center centered in the heart of downtown Sacrosanct. With its numerous fountains, foliage-lined walkways, and bubbling streams, City Creek Center offers three blocks of chic boutiques, delicious dining, and the newest showrooms.

Dark Hunter Department

The City of Sacrosanct's Dark Hunter Department's primary concern is the safety of all of Sacrosanct's residences. Their public safety responsibilities include code enforcement and supernatural crime prevention. The Sacrosanct Dark Hunter's Department follows the directions of the International Dark Hunter Council and serves as a local point of contact for any Dark Hunters working within the Council's ranks.

Inner Sanctum

The Inner Sanctum is an independently's owned specialty coffee company and cafe with a singular focus: quality. A hidden gem on the side streets of the busy downtown, the Inner Sanctum source's the world's finest beans and local treats. From it's delectable pastries to the exquisite latte art, the Inner Sanctum is dedicated to both its craft and the customer's experience. With beans roasted in house and every cup prepared by the best baristas, you will never be disappointed at the Inner Sanctum.

Owner Alexander Macedonia

Barista Alexis Wilde

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 flair 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.
Home of: Elysium

Owner Isolt Marcello

Co-Owner Damon Marcello
Waitress Yumi Chizue

Starlight Tower

With one hundred floors and a 125-foot spire, the Starlight Tower rises high above the Sacrosanct skyline. More than just a landmark, the Starlight Tower offers a unique mix of restaurants, shops, and offices spaced throughout the building. Organized into nine verticle zones, each of which features a sky lobby and a light-filled garden atrium which merge the upscale interior with a faux landscaped exterior setting.

What You'll Find Here

Crash Choir Records
Pentagram
Ellington Enterprise

you and i, we share the same disease


Posted on July 07, 2014 by ISOLT GRIFFIN
East

isolt griffin
The question she poses, albeit simple, is a momentous one. In her human life Isolt had given of her time and of herself freely, she had exhibited naught but a wholesome and angelic yearning to aide those who were in need of it, to put forth the entirety of her soul into every relationship that she found herself in... and she had trusted freely. And it was this willingness to trust despite any clandestine sense of foreboding that had ultimately been her downfall. It was this unwillingness to see and to recognize the darkness that squatted as a dormant disease within everyone that had ultimately had her meet her death. She had trusted a man with alluring emerald eyes, had succumbed to the proverbial siren's song of his gentle touch and the barest moment of honesty, of caring, that he had seen fit to bestow upon her. But it had, all of it, been a lie; a thin, rose-colored veil of fantasy pulled so artfully over her eyes so that she might be distracted, might be blinded to the viper waiting to strike. And strike she had, relentlessly and with her full might... this mysterious man had, knowingly, delivered her to her death.

And so she refused to place her trust within this enigmatic stranger so readily lest she should perpetrate the very same mistake that had seen the life drained from her. It was a tragic thing, really, to have such innocent kindness siphoned away to leave only this instinctual suspicion of the unfamiliar. Despite this, though, her words are not unkind, for truly the very same Isolt that she had existed prior to her turning lingers somewhere beneath the calloused veneer of distrust and terror that has become her mask. It is out of necessity that she asks him, knowing full well that he may choose to provide her some sweet fallacy, some honey-laced poison with which he might woo her to a fate just as dastardly as the one with which she has already been faced. Perhaps this is why striations of surprise lace themselves into the delicate canvas of her features though she cannot truly know that his words are truth. But, she supposes, she must exercise at least a small modicum of trust in him; the current alternative proving to be surprisingly bleak.

A smile forces its way to her ruby lips then, though really she does not share the humor of his tone. The message, however, the assurance that she is not alone in her current state is an invaluably precious thing. "Were you made vampire against your will," she whispers, her thirst for familiarity eclipsing whatever need she might have had to stay the question out of polite omission. The demure young vampire lingers a moment in contemplative silence when he offers up his own beverage to her still quite ravenous self. Were she in any fit state to deny his generosity she would certainly have done so; however, the immensity of her hunger and the willingness with which he slides the glass across the cracked wooden void between them dictates her acceptance. Isolt drinks of the welcome heat deeply, though she does not drain the glass as she had done before. Instead, she savors its stabilizing nourishment and the company with which it comes. A single fingernail traces one particularly pronounced lesion in the time-worn wood of the table, a physical manifestation of her pervading need for distraction from the question she must ask. The one that burns within; the one that she has taken to asking herself during every waking moment since that fateful eve.

"Damon... does it ever get better?"


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