Within the Northern vicinity of the city, the wealthy gather behind meticulously trimmed hedges and high-class architecture. The pristine streets are paved with stone and the storefronts are brightly lit and inviting - for the right clientele. In the North, every establishment is eager to cater to the rich and the wealthy. Many such places are used to the sometimes peculiar requests of the otherworldly but here there is little that money cannot buy - whether it happens to be illegal or merely involves looking the other way. Vampires and Dark Hunters are often found upon these Northern streets, their long lives often contributing to their sizable wealth which allows them the luxuries that the North provides.
Eternity
The VooDoo Room
The Witchery
The newly opened Eternity is an expensive fine dining restaurant nestled high upon the hills of the North - providing it a breathtaking view of the city below. The award-winning chefs at Eternity collaborate directly with local farmers and producers to source the freshest ingredients for its ever-changing menu. The staff at Eternity pride themselves on serving each customer's unique dietary needs - from the vampiric to the mortal races. Reservations are strongly encouraged as Eternity is frequently booked to capacity.
Located in the heart of the North, the Voodoo Room is the spirits lover's destination of choice in Sacrosanct. The Voodoo room is a craft cocktail bar that aims to provide an eclectic and exotic atmosphere. Nestled among the William Morris wallpaper, gold, and wood, you will find a new kind of neighborhood cocktail bar. One where hospitality and skill work in concert. With intoxicating liquors and a voodoo vibe, the Voodoo room will keep you coming back for more. Guided by the mantra of providing a one of a kind, high-end experience, the Voodoo Room's mixologists meet the highest standards with a fantastically themed selection of cocktails and specials.
Dark, Gothic, and thoroughly theatrical, the Witchery is a place to indulge yourself with it's lavish, theatrical suites. Whatever room you choose, you'll find glamor, indulgence, and luxury. From the Vestry to the Library and the Armory, the suites of the Witchery are nothing short of sensually romantic. A stay at the Witchery is not complete without dining in the rich baroque surroundings of the original oak-paneled hotel or among the elegant candle-lit charms of the Secret Garden. Whether you stay or dine, The Witchery is an unforgettably magical experience.
He hadn't been waiting for a long time. It only seemed like minutes, but perhaps it had been a little longer. He had too much to think about â€" Sterling, Tetradore, Malia. It was a confusing mess to think about and quite often, it only gave him more of a headache. However, he had to figure out how to balance his life. He loved Sterling...but he didn't want to hurt him. He had a crush on Malia â€" but he was with Sterling. And Tetradore...Tetradore had to go and fuck things up by turning him into a were. It was a jumbled mess and Henry needed to sort it out some way.
The door to the hospital room opened and young doctor stepped in. She didn't look old enough to be a physician, but he supposed at this point, he would take anything to get his hand to stop hurting. Though he was thankful she was here. It was just the sort of distraction that he needed to keep himself from thinking about the fucked up mess he found himself in.
She steps closer, introducing herself as Miya...not Dr. Miya. She asks for his arm and he extends it for her, taking away the towel the nurse had handed her to keep pressure on the oozing wound. "It probably needs stitches. I've had worse, though." He chuckled nervously as he waited for her to do her assessment. Perhaps she would agree with his own Dr. Google diagnosis, or perhaps she had her own.
When she declared that he was right and he needed stitches, he simply nodded his head at the plan of care. He knew the wound would need to be cleaned and he knew it was going to hurt like a bitch. Eyes followed her as she crossed the room, grabbing the equipment that she would need for the procedure. He wasn't expecting her to ask his name, so it took a moment before he answered. "My name is Henry, Henry Tudor." He hated his surname â€" so formal and most associated it with the Tudor family and the crazy people in it. Oh well. It was the name he had been blessed, or cursed, with.
She returns to his side with a warm, damp cloth and began to wipe away the dirt. He gives her the consent she needs, bracing himself by fisting his hand next to him. "I slipped on some ice and a rock attacked me." He shrugged rather nonchalantly, not making a huge big deal out of the accident. He supposed he could have said that he got attacked, knifed, or something else that seemed more macho. But instead, he settled with the truth. He had been a part of too many lies lately and it was time he shaped up. The truth was always the right answer, wasn't it? Maybe he should practice that more often.