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.

the saints are coming


Posted on November 14, 2014 by Alekai Evero
North
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Her soft assurance that the vampire whom had made some attempt to harm her was not present amongst those gathered here tonight at least seemed to soothe him ever so slightly, the sarcasm that laced her words however earning the woman little more then a pointed stare. She was by far one of the most agitating creatures he had ever been given to encounter and yet her evident wit and willingness to assert herself, traits that within his time had been so looked down upon within women were perhaps that which he found almost...annoyingly endearing about her. She knew entirely why he had no desire to maintain friendship with her, much less anything else and yet why this racial boundary, much less his ever-persistent and yet undeniable desire to kill her did not seem to be enough to ebb the flow of her attention he hardly knew. The girl far more determined then any he had met within his long existence, or at least, displaying a determination he had seen in only one other woman and she had long ago abandoned him too. It is perhaps this moment of nostalgia that provides the young witch the barest hint of a compliment from his lips, a rarely seen simper managing to trace his features at her words, the polite thanks she utters perhaps their most cordial exchange to date and yet- one that is sadly short-lived, the approach of the warlock rapidly diminishing any momentary pleasant mood the Hunter may have been inclined to expose.

The snap and crack of the wood beneath his hand surprises perhaps even him, Sera's gentle muttering of the moniker to which she has bestowed him, a pet name of sorts that he is determined to correct her upon- eventually, seemingly ignored for now as he moves to place himself between the woman and the evidently drunk individual. It is not his concern perhaps as to what the other mans intentions may be, what witches and warlocks do within their free time aside from the practice of worshipping the anti-Christ he hardly cares and yet he finds himself...unwilling to tolerate another man. It is a bizarre emotion, one he had long since assumed had died along with her and yet to find some fragment of it stoked to life is both exhilarating and agitating all at once. Why he seems so determined to be rid of the Warlock he hardly knows and for now makes no move to question his own motives, perhaps fearing the answers he may find, instead merely content to see the other man on his way. After all, the warlock was at least tipsy and that alone, Azrael has decided, is reason enough to end whatever plans Harry may have had.

The warlocks offered hand is merely met with the lifting of a single brow, the golden-haired Hunter having no desire to touch this particular creature, this distaste surely evident upon his features as his arms remain folded, waiting for the other man to withdraw his offered hand, content merely to nod by way of acknowledgement and little else before the wizard proceeded to introduce himself as Tom. For a moment Azrael is merely given to frown, the Hunter having hardly proceeded to read beyond the title cover of the Harry Potter series, much less see a movie that seemed to glorify the practice of witchcraft and as such the man's sarcasm is perhaps lost upon him. The name to which he has been offered however, is perhaps the least surprising of what is to come, the overly cocky warlock proceeding to prattle on for several moments about elves- of all things. That this ridiculous creature is either far more drunk then he appears, else suffering the results of a drug induced high Azrael is hardly given to know, nor does he particularly care to contemplate it, remaining entirely where he stands, gaze held firmly against his momentary opponent as he continues his tirade. Serafina moving to stand provides a brief distraction, the woman's muttered words and following pout seeing those golden eyes flicker towards her, offering a pointed look. Perhaps he is not dressed entirely appropriately for this occasion, some part of him perhaps willing to admit that had he known of her presence he may well have tried a little harder and yet- this is not his scene, not his place, these are not his friends- he does not fit in here and he sees no true reason to try. His clothing has a far more practical purpose. It is only as Tom reaches forward in those last moments to capture the woman's hand that the Hunters features are given to shift, the barest hint of annoyance once more seeming to spark somewhere within the man, a spark he moved quickly to bury, refusing to offer any such satisfaction to the man as he releases the young woman's hand with the promise of a debt and a date to be owed.

"I do believe you also owe her a napkin- for drooling on her hand."

Shoulders move to roll in a shrug of sorts, the words muttered more to himself and yet loud enough for either to hear should they have cared to listen, content to watch the Warlock wander away before that ever critical gaze returns to the woman.

"How attached are you to that particular individual?"

That the woman may maintain some level of feeling for the drunk, drug dealer is perhaps only a mild concern for the tall blonde, eyes narrowed slightly as the warlock disappears from sight and the feeling of static upon his skin announces the undeniable presence of Were. Three of them- to be exact. This night has rapidly become far more trouble then it is surely worth, his patience wearing painfully thin as he is reminded once more of his own promise to restrain the use of lethal force, eyes lifting briefly from the curly-haired woman to meet the gaze of the emerald-eyed man he knew to be an Alpha of sorts, another Were paused beside him, this pack evidently having expanded- something that surely warrants further investigation. The female Were's question is given to earn her nothing short of a glare, Azrael struggling desperately now to maintain some iota of control and yet- it is perhaps within the very chaos that erupts in the moments that follow that the man is best given to find it. It is the rapid approach of Frostbite- a Were Azrael knows perhaps too well that signals the on-coming storm, a sigh of sorts managing to pass his lips as long fingers reach abruptly for the buttons of his own shirt, easily and quietly beginning to undo them one by one, offering the barest hint of the toned figure beneath before the shirt is easily loose enough to facilitate the crossbow he pulls from beneath it, snapping the weapon rapidly into place, several bolts pulled quietly from his pocket- attention returned now to Sera.

"I changed my mind."

The long fingers of his free hand move to rather suddenly ensnare her own, the woman pulled abruptly against him, offered only a moment to place her arms around him as she should, the man stepping readily back in time with the music, moving both himself and the woman clear of Raven as she is hurtled into the wall, his free hand resting feather soft against her hip, guiding her gently to one side once more. His aim is entirely true, the first crossbow bolt slamming into the wall beside Raven and straight through the side of her dress, pinning the girl by her clothing to the wall she has been thrown against as his eyes move to following the springing leopard. He was surrounded by fucking children and yet, he'd be damned if he did not do his job. He simply shifts forward again now, gliding effortlessly sideways, much of the party still so unaware of the chaos he is attempting to control, encouraging Sera to follow his lead once more, maintain that easy flow with the music as he softly moves to step back from the woman, spinning her gently as custom dictates, free hand moving to release the chain from the wall behind him as he does- the chandelier it supports above (mercifully free of lights or glass, merely the frame tonight) groaning momentarily before it falls, the yelp that follows assuring Tobias has been rapidly ensnared beneath it as he moves to catch the woman's hand once more at the end of her pirouette.

It was a shame, truly, that such a night had to be marred by this ridiculous Were-pack, had his mind not been fixated upon his next shot he would have been entirely content to admire Serafina's figure once more, that fabric so perfectly highlighting her frame as he guides her smoothly across the floor, sending a sudden and rapid shot of two bolts towards Tetradore and Regan- content to pin them both to the wall behind in much the same manner as Raven, refusing to tolerate any further behaviour either Panther or Tiger may have been considering, one eye merely lifting towards Alexis- as if daring the girl to even attempt such a thing before the crossbow is hung easily from his back, both hands now resting upon the dark-haired woman he has successfully managed to navigate through the crowd and any potential danger, paused perfectly beside the exit doors as he finally releases her.

"That- is why I did not wear a suit."

It was a shame this party was ending. He could have used a drink.



Alekai Azrael Evero
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