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

everyone knows that I'm dying to feel fine


Posted on February 14, 2019 by Alistair Rosenthal
East

He had been staring at the same white 'canvas' for nearly twenty minutes before that irritation began to grip the Artist, provoking within him a sort of restlessness that could only be solved by doing something else. It was hardly atypical by any means. Sometimes, he required a different physical setting, a different medium, to create what he could not otherwise put on paper. His office was nothing short of used to the man's sometimes eccentric behaviors. After all, the artists within the office each had their own peculiarities to best produce their craft, Alistair's need to leave was hardly the oddest by far. He gathered his messenger bag, tossing his sketchbook and tablet within it before tossing it over his shoulder. He paused only at the front desk to inform the office secretary that he'd be taking an extended lunch before Alistair stepped out onto the streets of Sacrosanct, pausing over the threshold to breathe in the cold air of the city. The faintest glimpse of a simper crossed his features as Alistair pulled his woolen coat closer to his figure, only for the man to make his way down the street towards the Bakery he so frequently visited on his way to work every morning since it's grand opening several months prior. He was almost disgruntled to see the store was peculiarly crowded, the cold weather and threat of snow clearly prompted a need for warm beverages within the inhabitants of the city and yet, Alistair was hardly deterred.

It was only after ordered a hot cup of tea and one of the bright pink shaped cookies that Alistair found himself nestled at a table in the far corner of the Bakery. His sketchbook was tossed lightly upon the table as Alistair pulled out his well-loved collection of graphite pencils. For a moment, his gaze turned towards the window behind him, merely contemplating the world at large before those first strokes were placed upon that stark white page. He was wholly inattentive to the very world that surrounded him, Alistair entirely capable of being drawn into his own art as he nibbled upon that iced sugar cookie he'd purchased. He was wholly oblivious to the people who came and went, much less how the store only further seemed to fill to the point where the tables were quickly occupied around him. He equally failed to notice the blonde woman that approached him, his pencil sketched quickly against the page as if that very idea that had finally filled his thoughts could not come out on paper fast enough before he lost it again. The woman's first 'excuse me' went entirely ignored by the man, if only because he scarcely realized anyone was talking to him. In fact, it wasn't until see continued to speak that his emerald gaze rose from the page to the petite girl clutching her own bag as it swung against her hip.

His eyebrows rose ever so slightly as he stared at her, his emerald gaze wordlessly following her hand as she gestured to her bag. Why...was she....talking to him? Alistair remained silent as she continued to inform him of her dated computer and her issues with its battery life as if any of it mattered to him in the slightest. Dear God, he hoped she wasn't one of those people who felt the need to discuss all of the ongoings of their lives with every stranger they met. Thankfully, the woman seemed to realize her own long-winded explanation as she inquired if she could share his table for the outlet in the wall next to him. Slowly, Alistair's emerald gaze fluttered towards the wall at his side, as if he clearly hadn't noticed it prior to this very moment. His gaze turned towards the shop as a whole, glancing over the numerous occupied tables already filled to the brim. Though he spotted several empty seats, the artist was admittedly disappointed to see that the woman was right - those empty places either had their outlets occupied or simply didn't have one at all, and worse, they lacked the natural light of his own present position. An audible sigh left Alistair's lips before his gaze fell back to the work on his page. "Yeah, it's fine." He responded simply, turning the entirety of his attention back towards his own work.


Alistair
Rosenthal

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