North

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.

What You'll Find Here

Eternity
The VooDoo Room
The Witchery

go ask alice, when she's ten feet tall


Posted on June 20, 2018 by anastasia romanova
North


She had never been one to be steadied in any true manner by the gentle restraint of patience's hand. Even in her earliest youth, in a time that few (and certainly not the youthful Were before her) had the longevity to recall, Anastasia had been defiant to the oppression of character that was inherent in exhibiting patience with the world about her and those that filled it. Patience had never been her virtue. And never in the century that had passed since then had the indomitable Russian sought to alter this enduring axiom.

Thusly then does she bristle as Alexis plants herself in her path, raising a hand into the face of royalty that she knows naught of. Perhaps it was the Duchess' mannerism, the poise that spoke to the elegance of a forgotten generation, that fooled them so... that had them forget that they were, truly, naught more than prey. Lambs that had yet been lured to the abattoir by the masterful beckoning of a practiced executioner. Perhaps it was her impeccable garb, the display of flawless femininity, that had them disregarding the axiomatic truth of what lay beneath the prim and proper veneer. The precise details of it were trivial, really. The reasoning obsolete. Though it could not be denied that something, some misguided and ultimately salacious notion of inner strength, had coaxed the young Alexis to place herself within the path of a coiled viper.

The crimson pillow of Anastasia's upper lip curled just so with the allusion of a snarl, a single expertly-manicured brow pitching skyward as a pair of piercing sage eyes traversed a smooth line from the palm extended towards her to the eyes of the woman to whom it belonged. The pointedness of the naive woman's presumed assertion might have been demurely charming had Anastasia's patience not been so terribly... depleted. Perhaps she would query after Alexander's choice of lover at a later moment, but at present the pressing and appropriate course of action was to proffer up the transperancy that the little shrew seemed to believe herself so inherently entitled to.

"In truth, I could not give less of a care to what you'll be wearing on your date. The only reason I am even affording a thought to 'giving a fuck' about you is because Alexander insists on keeping your company. But know this, little fox, he has kept my company for far longer and I do not intend on taking my leave anytime soon... so it is best that we play cordial to one another, no?" The domineering vixen gives pause for a moment, inclining her head towards her counterpart, before delivering her final missive in naught more than a whisper. "Because as soon as I cease giving a fuck about you, I will cleave you from him as if you never were. I have no patience for useless things."

It is then that she meanders about her momentary opponent, taking her leave of the mildew-choked space and its equally as unappealing patrons. "Farewell, Alexis," she muses without glancing back, the timely clicking of her polished heels the only other sound to usher the Grand Duchess onward.

Anastasia Romanova

Grand Duchess of Imperial Russia

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