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

Show the devil how good you dance [Darien]


Posted on January 27, 2016 by Eleanor
East


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



The charcoal-colored filth found its ways into the crevices of her fingernails, outlining the otherwise bare tips in a grimy layer. It was something she'd grown used to, an inevitable repercussion of her trade, no less. But she found herself picking at her marred hands now, her attention waning on the crowd that lingered at the art school gala she was clearly a part of. Eleanor yawns, not once moving a hand to cover her silent feline-like growl, two rows of white teeth emerging from behind her blood red lips as she so openly voiced her boredom to any near enough to witness the act. She huffs then, her dirty fingers at work at the loose thread near the short hem of her dress, the nervous energy arising from the depths of her indifference for the crowd here and the party in general. She was already craving the nicotine, but felt defeated knowing it would be some minutes before she could sneak out into the open air of the night and feed her addiction. Eleanor was here because it was required of her. So once the photo ops were taken, and her work had finally been auctioned off, she could leave, drifting through the dark subway tunnels until she found her way home to her empty apartment. There was nothing waiting for her at there though, aside from the bare white washed walls and a ratted and worn mattress lying idly like an island amongst the sleek hardwood floor sea of an otherwise bare master bedroom. Suddenly, nothing sounded quite as attractive as that mattress.

It was events like these that made her second guess moving to the city in the first place. The experience, at first, was a social experiment of sorts. It was easy to get swept up into the culture of such a place. Her muse exploded through her fingertips and she went to work drawing and crafting more quickly than ever. The studio that had been gifted to her all too soon had become her true home. Eleanor had never worked in a space so formal, yet so private. She enjoyed the time she spent there, often falling asleep in the fetal position on the hard and cold floor, more times than not cradling a lukewarm cup of coffee and an ash tray littered with cigarette butts. But Eleanor didn't really have a 'home.' She spent most of her life drifting from place to place, avoiding the fae council when she could. She missed the weeks she'd spend in the forest in between settling into a more "human like" situation. Sacrosanct was different though. It was over flooding with those of supernatural species. She wasn't so easy to spot here.

The time passed slowly, but she finally found a second to step outside onto the busy streets in the heart of the city. Her fingers found her way to the collar of her turtle neck now, two fingertips pressed into the inked skin there, rubbing her sore muscles as she surveyed the dark streets. Only the wispy edges of the wasp tattoo that ran from the start of her collar bone up to her jaw line on the left side of her neck was exposed, the majority of the insect was tucked away by the high-necked sweater like dress. Eleanor then placed a cigarette between her lips, lit it, and leaned back against the cold, rough edges of the old brick building.




Eleanor | Fairy | Vinyl

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