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.
A S K A R E E
loco, maniac, sick bitch, psychopath
There was a fine film of smut on absolutely everything- every surface a mosaic of mysterious smudges, every bit of glass dulled by a thousand different fingertips and too few passes of a dishrag. Even the air possessed a grayish tint to it, so much so that not even what little light emanated from the sparse collection of yellowed fixtures could penetrate the cumbersome miasma completely. It was the sort of seedy little cubby hole the upper echelon (and the local health inspector, apparently) avoided like all ten of Egypt's plagues. Spencer would have called this a shithole- and he would have been correct. It was a shithole.
And she fucking loved it.
The Egyptian woman flicks her fingers through a mess of brunette silk, taming a few wayward strands back to their rightful place before spinning on her heels (a feat not to be scoffed at given the advanced stage of inebriation that was her current affliction). She exits the washroom, intent upon reclaiming her seat at the scuffed bar top when... son of a bitch, some twat had planted himself aside the stool that she had been perched atop, her leather jacket a haphazard bundle upon the ground at its side. Moving with a swiftness hardly emblematic of the amount of alcohol currently pickling her organs Askaree places herself at the man's side, the barest touch of her telekinetic influence drawing back the stool she had claimed and bringing the jacket into her waiting hand.
Her ears perk at the wayward gentleman's... greeting, his accent a point of fleeting interest. Apparently someone was having one hell of a shitty evening. Maybe someone had tried to steal his Lucky Charms? How terribly unfortunate. Craning her neck to face him, an insidious grin pulls taut the brims of her pillowy lips, alluring brown eyes taking stock of him as one might an insect scuttling across a window sill. Broad, solid, possibly fuckable.
"Eat me, cunt," she purrs venomously, leaning in ever so slightly before her eyes avert to look over his shoulder. Another man approaches from behind him, ruddy of face and doused with what she could only surmise was the drink he had been enjoying given the telltale hoppy stench of him, advancing at a not-unimpressive rate. One perfectly manicured brow pitches skyward, a subtle nod of her head given to the somber Scot as her eyes flick back to him. "You might want to handle that."