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

i hope you know my love won't stop


Posted on November 05, 2017 by isolt griffin
East

isolt griffin

I'm more alive than I've ever been


It was speculated by many that to love someone, to truly love them, was to bequeath unto them the power to inflict unimaginable, irrevocable agony, to show them the manner in which they might cause you the most anguish, the most pain... and to trust that they would not. Therefore, it might have been adequately sufficed that it was not lust nor infatuation that was the cornerstone of life's purest love... but trust. Unquestioning, unwavering trust was the foundation of the gift that was true love.

And it was a gift that Isolt had bestowed upon so very few people in the span of both her mortal and immortal lives. Harley held her own piece of Isolt's bleeding heart, as did Tetradore and Yumi, all of them having been allowed to take some parcel of her to keep with them wherever it was that they may go. And Damon. For Damon she had, slowly, peeled back the defenses with which she had taken to guarding herself in the aftermath of her untimely demise so that she might show him her bare, bleeding heart. Over time it had only proven to be his for the taking, his to hold, his to cherish, and his to destroy should the fancy to do so move him. Isolt had felt the breadth of this destruction during Damon's first absence, when she had felt pain of such magnitude that she had been convinced (though she knew of the physicial impossibility) that her heart was broken, that it surely lay in ruin within her chest. Her trust had wavered then, the finest silk in the midst of a hurricane.

It had wavered then, and it wavered now.

Heavy lids drifted to a close over azure eyes at the summons from her doorstep, knowing in some etherreal way that it was him. To deny that the consideration of not answering flittered across her mind would have been disingenuous; what would it have been like for him to experience this wretched feeling of abandonment? To feel the icy chill of loneliness as it swept through every part of him? She may never come to know the answer, for she cannot bring herself to ignore his presence at her door. The auburn-haired woman makes slow work of the distance from her bedroom to the foyer, the thin sweater she wears hanging loosely from her otherwise-bare shoulders, a waterfall of silken fire cast over one of them.

Her eyes, as crystalline as ever they had been, were cast in the shade of her trepidation as she eased the door ajar to look upon him. They linger in silence for a heavy moment before she turns from him, leaving the door ajar in some manner of unspoken invitation until she halts within the kitchen she shares with Yumi. "You can't just leave without saying anything and then come back with roses and expect for everything to be okay," she issues to the empty kitchen, either unable or unwilling to look upon the man behind her.

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