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

red crosses on wooden doors


Posted on January 10, 2017 by Cecily Grace
North

she found out she couldn't fly.

1234

She isn't alone long before the sound of clicking heels breaks the silence, followed by the click of the door as a dark-haired woman shoulders through it, looking properly flustered. Cecily frowns, watching her quietly for a moment and taking another pull from her cigarette, pulled from her self-pitying thoughts by curiosity. There is a heaviness in the air around the other girl, a weight that Cecily knew too well to be the burden of distant ghosts, clinging to a soul in desperation.

She frowns, finishes off her cigarette and leans in towards the stranger, her eyes narrowed as the faces of the past take form in brief, flitting movements, all of them clinging desperately to the girl drinking the wine like it's an anchor to sanity. She can't blame her, though - she's doing it herself.

"You seem troubled," she muses as a form of greeting, sliding her chair closer to the girl, wishing she had just one more glass of whiskey to strengthen her resolve. Her eyes follow the spirit of a boy - maybe sixteen - as he leans in towards the girl, desperate to be noticed but never achieving it. The flicker of a smile pulls up at her mouth and she nods at him, as if to say you are not alone, though she's not sure why she isn't sure why she's encouraging his antics; his friend will never see him, no matter how heavily he weighs her down.

"You've got ghosts." It's a strange sort of thing to say, especially to a stranger, but the alcohol muddles her mind and makes it hard to discern what's proper and what's not. Her gaze travels back to the boy then and a sudden sadness overwhelms her. As much as she hates the burden of seeing them, most of the dead just want to be heard - how terribly tragic it must be to try and try but never be heard or seen.

She sighs heavily, discarding her cigarette and crossing her arms on the table. "I'm Cecily, by the way."

It's an attempt to be cordial, something she's hardly good at for the crippling social anxiety that normally steers her away from strangers. But something's different tonight - something about this girl makes Cecily want to help her and the ghosts she carries.

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