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

we are the sign, we are the wonder


Posted on August 26, 2017 by anastasia romanova
East


Could it be? Truly? After so much time, after the sands of so very many decades had slipped through the fissures of her desperately-coiled fists...

How could it be possible that she had finally found the thing for which she had been searching with such tireless and remarkable poignancy for the greater portion of a century? There had transpired more than a few moments of abject weakness wherein the Duchess doubted with such sincerity that she might ever lay her eyes upon it again. That the splendor of it would exist only and forevermore within the fiercely-guarded coffer of her memory. Yet even then, when her eyes had finally been gifted with that small glimpse of her talisman about the neck of the little vampire girl, Anastasia had realized that the sands of the passing decades had already begun to tarnish the image held within her mind for the splendor of it was far greater than she could recall.

The conundrum was, of course, discerning the details of how she might go about reclaiming that which was her own. She was not and had never been a fool, the Russian aristocat had been fastidious even in her youth and no amount of time or etherreal metamorphosis could have altered that portion of her. She was well aware of the age of the imp in question, her suspicions and interests piqued even before she had called a faux-casual meeting with that pair of Council dullards to ascertain the confirmation she desired. But now... now she required the participation, informed or otherwise, of the single individual within whom she held any amount of confidence and trust.

Anastasia pays not even the barest modicum of heed to the closure notice upon the door of Alexander's establishment, knowing full well that her invitation was extended no matter the hour. Though the fallen royal did admit, privately of course, to a measure of amusement that her Maker seemed to be embracing a young woman she had not yet had the pleasure of meeting... a young woman who clearly, from her garments, was under his employ. A young woman who, by the expressions on both of their faces, was also clearly blithely unaware of who she was, her polite declaration met with only the minutest pitching of an expertly-manicured brow as Anastasia turns from the pair only so far as to flick the cafe's lock firmly into place. "Teper' ty zakryt," she offers smoothly. Now you're closed.

She offers only silence thereafter, the subtle tap of her polished black heels and the timely swish of the blazer that conceals her matching cocktail dress the only sounds for a few pregnant moments. Subtle also is the manner in which she absorbs the finer details of her guardian's companion: a pretty, youthful woman indeed, with features a great deal softer than those of the austere Russian opposite her. A simper, marginally good-natured and falsely-inviting, curves the edges of her ruby lips as the sage of her eyes flickers from the girl to her Maker. "Alexander," she cooes, "why don't you introduce me to your friend?"

Anastasia Romanova

Grand Duchess of Imperial Russia

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