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
still just a rat in a cage
Posted on January 08, 2020 by Marcelo Rumeir
 True to his power of tracking teleportation, Marcelo appears before frost with significantly less clothing than before, standing before him in only his boxer briefs. Although brief, Marcelo does not miss the look of surprise on Frost's face. So, he didn't expect him to complete the task? Or maybe he did not expect him to be back so soon? Whatever it was, Marcelo was thoroughly pleased with himself regardless. "Indeed I did, anything for you, Frost," he says with a laugh before narrowing his eyes slightly in sarcastic tones. "And I really expect reimbursement on your part," he says, half joking, but really, Marcelo had liked that pair of shoes he had been wearing. He then raises his eyebrows and a finger, wicked grin on his face, hardly having left. "Oh, and don't let me catch you staring for too long now," he says with a wink. Marcelo has never been one to simply skate across thin ice, he stomps across it. He stands there, bare before the alpha were horse. Although it was obvious that Marcelo was in good shape, trapped at the age of sixteen for eternity, there is still an almost youthful lankiness to him, unable to gain as much muscle as he would have had he just been a bit older when he was turned. Marcelo's own brown eyes watch as Frost's violet gaze comes to rest at the gash on Marcelo's sun kissed face. The jackal reaches his hand up to wipe away the blood, it would heal quickly and easily, no permanent damage. Frost's hand extends forward, clearly eager to have his book. Marcelo passes it off, returning his hand to his side. "Yeah, he had quite the greeting for me," he says, smirking. He conveniently leaves out the part that Marcelo would not have been killed during the task even if he had tried his very best to do so. Perks of his whole immortality thing. "So is he uh a friend of yours?" He asks with a snicker. Hunters really tended to not like weres, the mark upon his face as proof. "That was quick," he says in response to the invitation. "The living situation is something I will consider, Ive been crashing in hotels as of lately," he says. His cash supply was running low, he would need to sell some more art he kept stashed away or some of the jewels he had hidden to continue living the way he liked. Or, worst (or maybe best?) case scenario, he would just have to steal more items. Marcelo has become accustomed to a certain lifestyle and he intended to keep it as such. Marcelo's hand rises to meet Frost's own, grasping it tightly to shake upon their deal. "Well," he says, and the tone he uses hints that the next words out of his mouth cannot be good. "I look forward to at least one or two ass kickings."
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