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

so tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes


Posted on November 30, 2018 by BRENDEN
East
Every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside

Brenden


3:28PM

"God dammit Nora," he snarls into the phone, his fingers close to shattering the device in his hand, "I told you to stop running around with that fucking crowd," he growls at her again, pausing for a moment to listen to her pleading, her crying, "No, I'm not bailing you out again. You got yourself into this mess, you get yourself out of it. And until you get your shit together I'm cutting you off," his voice lowers menacingly before he clicks the 'end call' button. Turning, he throws his cellphone across the shop, though it hardly shatters against anything as he reaches out with his affinity to stop the device mid air, the phone merely floating right above the floor with barely a thought on his part. Brenden hardly wanted to clean up that mess, let alone, buy a new phone. Running his fingers through his well kept hair, he sends it into disarray, a habit he had when the man was stressed or angry; and right now, he was both. The warlock was murderous, his 18 year old sister was going to turn his hair gray, he should have known not to send her away to a college outside of the city and he had never regretted his choices more than he had at this moment.

Running a hand down his face, he rolls his shoulders in an attempt to release the tension there, and yet, it hardly does a damn thing. He would make her move back to the city, move into the apartment he hardly used, choosing to stay at the shop more often than not. He would help her get her life back into order, could even use her as a receptionist here. The thoughts ramble through his mind like a hurricane until the door is going off, drawing him out, he can't help the glower that so pulls across his brows at the sound. It wasn't his first choice, he would rather have simple bells attached to the door. With another half a thought, he brings his phone back to him, catching it in his hand before he slips it into his pocket, his usual brooding demeanor back in place, though he can't help but to ease the tension from his jaw. Moving from the back, he turns around the corner to see a half drowned woman standing in his doorway, her purple locks sticking to her face, he's almost prepared for her to start wringing out her clothes right then and there.

Frowning at her, the man crosses his arms, stretching the corded muscle that run the lengths of his limbs, his fitted long sleeve shirt doing nothing to hide the rest of his well kept body. "Can I help you?" He asks gruffly, his dark eyes drawing to the puddle she was leaving on the ground. "You're ruining my doormat," he grunts before sending his affinity in search of a towel. It hardly takes long as he finds that fluffy white towel, he used this morning for his shower, thrown across the bed frame in the back room. It comes shooting from the back and practically is thrown at the woman's feet, resting there to soak up the water that was pouring off her frame. The man hardly cared to hide his magic, though it probably wasn't the smartest things to use it in front of strangers. "I suppose I could get you one too," he sighs, as if the very thought of helping another person, besides his sister, was an issue in itself. Unfolding his arms, he moves behind the receptionist's desk, digging in the drawer to produce a much smaller and less fluffy towel. Standing up, he tosses her the, well, it was basically a cloth, before moving to stand in front of the desk again.

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