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

Damon Marcello

be still, my love, i will return to you


Posted on November 03, 2019 by isolt griffin
East

isolt griffin

I'm more alive than I've ever been


For perhaps the first time in recent memory Isolt found herself hunkered beneath the deeply oppressive heft of true restlessness. She craved an employ for her mind, her hands, her body... all despite the urgings of Renee and Damon, both of whom insisted that in this advanced stage of her pregnancy she should be doing naught but resting and preparing for the now-imminent arrival of their newborn, immortal tendencies failing to sway either of them from this assertion. But in the aftermath of her boisterous New Orleans adventure with Harley, Isolt had struggled to still her body in the manner that they insisted, a vessel captained by an unending series of restless inklings. Damon, to his ceaseless credit, had put forth such tremendous effort to indulge his wife's every whim so that she might linger within their home despite her persistent and mounting agitation... and yet still the fire-crowned woman had managed to convince her doting husband that she would accompany him to Red on the Water this night. She suspected that her attempts had known success solely by her affirmation that she would busy herself only with paperwork.

And yet here she stood, pacing about in the cobblestoned cellar alongside their bar manager, Jason. Jason, who had known an impressive tenure at Red on the Water- taking up employ at the cozy pub in its infancy to become Isolt and Damon's most talented (and most trusted) bartender and eventually ascending to the station of bar manager- paced about beside her, casting more than a single weary glance towards the impressive swell of Isolt's stomach, though he possessed more sense than to chance calling attention to the situation. Instead does he meander alongside the redheaded vampire, scratching away at the clipboard craddled in the crook of his arm. "I'll be putting the order in tomorrow, I just thought I would have a last look at what we have so that we'll make it through the holidays without any shortages. I figure a few more cases of the spiced ales and dark brews wouldn't be a terrible idea." He is youthful, peering at the age thirty in the very distance, and yet mature enough to execute his responsibilities while requiring so very little supervision. He quirks an inquisitive brow in Isolt's direction, though they are both secure in the knowledge that he possesses the answer he only feigns to query after. "Yes," she concedes before shifting her body, somewhat awkwardly, in the direction of the brilliantly maintained wine racks. "I think we should stock up a bit on the dry reds, they-"

Whatever words she intends fizzle away upon the curl of her tongue, one hand moving to cradle the momentous swell of her belly while the other grasps blindly for a nearby wooden pillar upon which she might steady herself, the unyielding pressure of her vampiric grasp drawing a low moan from the fortified oak. "Isolt? Are you alright?" Jason's words reach her as if from afar, her senses hardly registering the hand he places gently upon her shoulder as her cradling hand swipes at the denim of her jeans. "Oh my god, my... my water just broke." The words come as little more than a whisper, though they prove enough to propel Jason into motion, the young man careening towards the stairwell that would deliver him into the back hallway of the pub, casting behind him mention of Damon though truly Isolt does not and cannot rightly discern his words. Merely does she remain there as if solidly frozen to the cobblestones beneath her feet, the first contractions beginning to twist at the muscles of her abdomen, one hand clenching with ever more desperation into the wooden pillar at her side.

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