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

Eternity

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.

The VooDoo Room

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.

The Witchery

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.

you can't raise hell with a saint


Posted on May 25, 2020 by ASKAREE
North

askaree


So he fancied himself to be so goddamn clever, did he? Fucking meddling prick.

It is quite evident in the planes of her face, the chiseled curvature of her jawline, and the conflagration of purest and unassailable rage that sizzles upon every twisting helix in her eyes that, upon this rarest of occasions, Askaree's question is hardly to be construed as rhetorical. The bulbs of her thumbs press only further into the fabric of his trousers, challenging the taut cords of muscle that lay beneath as his eyes flick towards the receptionist desk in her stead. The Egyptian woman spares the cluster of scrub-wearing drones surely gawking at the pair not a single lingering consideration; let them stare, after all it was most assuredly quite rare that the old hens could pilfer any real excitement from the veritable swamp of generic disinfectant and lingering smog of old-people-smell within which they drudged every fucking day.

Her eyes narrow ever so slightly with the delivery of what is, and they both know it, possibly the shittiest excuse he could have scraped from what was (at least, she assumed) already a bone-dry well to begin with. His hesitation, however, is promptly noted. It seemed to Askaree that her favorite curmudgeon had been far more attentive to her goings on than she had been given to realize, a charming little morsel that he appeared most reluctant to make known. "You're a terrible liar, Spencer." The syllables are issued in a hushed tone, low enough so that only he may hear, though the relative calm of the woman's voice is a lesson in fallacy. It is more threat than statement, more warning than mere observation. He must take care to avoid violating this proverbial line that he toes with near reckless abandon.

The plump cushions of her lips ease into an impish smirk then; a man after her own heart. This bait she was absolutely not averse to nibbling on. "Alright, but if you try to slip me some of your Sleeping Beauty juice again I'm going to do more than just spill your fucking oatmeal when I wake up." The supple leather of her jacket squelches as the crocodilian wench finally releases the vice-like hold she maintains upon him, rising and flourishing a hand towards the facility's lobby door. "Age before beauty."



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