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

City Creek Center

The City Creek Center is an upscale open-air shopping center centered in the heart of downtown Sacrosanct. With its numerous fountains, foliage-lined walkways, and bubbling streams, City Creek Center offers three blocks of chic boutiques, delicious dining, and the newest showrooms.

Dark Hunter Department

The City of Sacrosanct's Dark Hunter Department's primary concern is the safety of all of Sacrosanct's residences. Their public safety responsibilities include code enforcement and supernatural crime prevention. The Sacrosanct Dark Hunter's Department follows the directions of the International Dark Hunter Council and serves as a local point of contact for any Dark Hunters working within the Council's ranks.

Inner Sanctum

The Inner Sanctum is an independently's owned specialty coffee company and cafe with a singular focus: quality. A hidden gem on the side streets of the busy downtown, the Inner Sanctum source's the world's finest beans and local treats. From it's delectable pastries to the exquisite latte art, the Inner Sanctum is dedicated to both its craft and the customer's experience. With beans roasted in house and every cup prepared by the best baristas, you will never be disappointed at the Inner Sanctum.

Owner Alexander Macedonia

Barista Alexis Wilde

Red on the Water

Nestled in a pleasant alcove that is but a stone's throw away from the dazzling labyrinth of downtown, Red on the Water is a spectacle in its own right. Renovated in the style of a classic Irish pub with a dash of modern flair befitting the city that boasts it, this up-and-coming venue is the perfect place to snag an impeccably prepared home-cooked meal and enjoy the city's most impressive collection of brews from Ireland and beyond. You and your guests are sure to be mesmerized and invigorated by the energetic offerings of the live Celtic band to be found here every weekend.
Home of: Elysium

Owner Isolt Marcello

Co-Owner Damon Marcello
Waitress Yumi Chizue

Starlight Tower

With one hundred floors and a 125-foot spire, the Starlight Tower rises high above the Sacrosanct skyline. More than just a landmark, the Starlight Tower offers a unique mix of restaurants, shops, and offices spaced throughout the building. Organized into nine verticle zones, each of which features a sky lobby and a light-filled garden atrium which merge the upscale interior with a faux landscaped exterior setting.

What You'll Find Here

Crash Choir Records
Pentagram
Ellington Enterprise

Show the devil how good you dance


Posted on December 18, 2015 by Eleanor
East


This is where Hollywood cues the delusion,
that everything looked this blue through Sinatra's eyes.



Although Eleanor operated more like an asexual person by habit, there was still a strong sensual drive within her, one that existed equally for people of both sexes. Some would deem her promiscuous, for her sexual exploits were frequent, although mostly at random. Men she'd seen just a handful of times around town. The 40-year-old cyclist who lived downstairs. The hooker that came into the tavern by the university upon occasion, looking for her late night work. The drummer from Jersey that played at the bar once or twice. She'd never taken anyone home that she could potentially have to see again unless she wanted. But this feeling was a need, a desire she did not hesitate to act upon. Relationships were rarely formed, and even when they did, they did not last long. Eleanor did not go on dates and she did not make plans. She didn't stare into her partner's eyes while they fucked. And she did not make love. It was perhaps what Eleanor liked best about the man who had visited her at her studio last night.

She didn't know his name, but he was a peculiar man she had met on campus snorting coke in his car parked in the parking garage. The two had become fast friends, and by that, I mean she listened to him ramble in turn for the occasional bump and fuck. Then as he slept, as she sometimes allowed him to stay and do, she would sketch him. Her studio was isolated, locked by a heavy university door and had no windows, as she requested. It was easy for her, in these conditions, to loose track of time when she was working. What were once pristine, white-washed walls and smooth, glossy hardwood floors had since been tarnished. Deep grooves marred the wood's surface from where a heavy block of marble had toppled over onto its side, and the scratches gave away the path in which she pushed it from one side of the room to the other. Charred holes in the dry wall and wood flooring showed where Eleanor had absent-mindedly left her wood burner on for too long, and ultimately burned through the surrounding baseboards. Paint had dried to the floor, flecks of it sticking to her bare feet when she stumbled past. Some of her work, the sketches closer to completion hung on the walls -- a glimpse for the professor whom came to check up on her once every so often, of what she was would produce for him next, and what he could sell at outrageous prices all across this city.

She'd watch her "friend" as he rested, hours before she'd leave to stumble into this very cafe, her mind alive with strange ideas. Eleanor hated his tattoos, ugly, impersonal marks with even less meaning. It would be easy to remove them with the wood burner, she thought. How flesh would so easily peel away underneath its heat. What she did like about him aside from his penis, she mused, were his strong arms and muscular back. She was fascinated in the way his body came together, how it fueled into her when they were having sex. He could have been a dancer or something, she thought.

There was no misunderstandings about what she needed from him. And he seemed to be on the same level of "emotionally unavailable" as she, at least in this case. That said, something was missing. Eleanor was not an outwardly emotional person. There was a disconnect there, an inability within her to show affection. Those that she did consider close to her were nothing more than platonic friendships.

She eyed the woman whose name she did not yet know as they sat across from one another at the cafe. Eleanor squirmed in her seat, folding and unfolding her legs in the slippery cushioned booth until finally she was sitting on her knees, the back of her head pressed up against the cold plaster of the wall. She sipped cautiously from her hot cup of coffee, eyelids heavy and her body generally weary from the lack of sleep. Eleanor couldn't put her finger on why she felt the need to stick around. It was probably the rain. But there was something interesting about this person across from her. Maybe it was because Eleanor, a well-established (and well paid) artist, but had never been on the opposite end of a sketch before. It was a strange, vulnerable place to be in. But it was new and relatively exciting, she guessed, all the same. She watched her work but tried not to. She thought about offering suggestions, but didn't want to be that person.

Perhaps she had gotten used to it - a life spent in empty spaces with hollowed relationships and long spans of time spent in the company of only herself. But when this stranger offered her her name, Eleanor was surprised. "Wasp." She replied, an alias she'd long been called by the people closest to her, thanks to the insect tattoo that crawled down the side of her neck. "And you are definitely an ass girl."

Eleanor briefly considered leaving, turning on her fae "invisibility cloak" and just walking home in the rain. But she was so weary. And this coffee tasted too good and this booth was too comfortable. So instead, she began to sing. "Rain, rain go away..."



Eleanor | Fairy | Vinyl

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