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    The East

    The east side of the city is often considered the heart of Sacrosanct. It's here were the majority of the shopping district can be found, deep in the heart of downtown. It's here that magic thrives, it hums in every stone and can be felt in every breath. Often times, new comers to the city may be come overwhelmed by such sensations but, eventually, it becomes an ever present feeling that's hardly noticed. The streets of the east side are frequented by all species as many companies are housed in the sky scrapers and hole in the wall establishments that line the streets.

    What's You'll Find Here

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    The city has a unique skyline, clashing between modern sky rises and small victorian storefronts. In the heart of downtown, the sleek colored glass buildings reign supreme though their old-world roots can be seen in the most peculiar places from the lamp post styled electric street light to the stone sidewalks. The old world architecture slowly returns the further from downtown you travel, however.

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    Inner Sanctum

    owned by Alexander Macedonia
    3 employees

    Inner Sanctum

    This hidden little cafe is loaded with essentricities and antiques that fill every corner of this remarkable place. The walls are lined with oddities from every corner of the world. Beyond the intriging decor, this place is known for it's delectable coffees and it's exquisite latte art.

    Owner Alexander Macedonia

    Barista Alexis Wilde
    Assistant Manager Calliel Alosi
    Barista Beylani Rose

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    Red on the Water

    owned by Isolt Griffin
    2 employees

    Red on the Water

    Nestled in a pleasant alcove that is but a stone?s throw away from the dazzling labyrinth of downtown, Red on the Water is a spectacle in its own right. Renovated in the style of a classic Irish pub with a dash of modern flare befitting the city that boasts it, this up-and-coming venue is the perfect place to snag an impeccably prepared home-cooked meal and enjoy the city?s most impressive collection of brews from Ireland and beyond. You and your guests are sure to be mesmerized and invigorated by the energetic offerings of the live Celtic band to be found here every weekend.

    Owner Isolt Griffin

    Co-Owner Damon Marcello
    Waitress Yumi Chizue

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    The Bakery

    owned by Taliah Vieira
    2 employees

    The Bakery

    The Bakery is a small bakery that serves anything that your heart desires, from sweet to savory this little place has it all. The area overall is small and cozy, a seating area that lines the windows and several bakery cases that provide freshly baked goods every day. The Bakery also takes special orders and delivers to local cafes.

    Owner Taliah Vieira

    Baker Sterling Tenembrage
    Baker Ludovino Donati

others say in ice120.154.95.146Posted On December 27, 2017 at 11:40 PM by Rixon Leifsson

we built this city on broken glass

There was something sweetly divine about those cupcakes. That carrot taste so intermingled with that cream cheese, molasses, applesauce and spice so combined with that sweetness of sugar had a way of appealing dramatically to his equine side. The stallion slid easily into his usual seat, that cupcake picked at with care, as if he intended to savour every morsel of that indulgence now that the Baker had been taken care off. Why that man persisted Frost hardly knew. He was harder to break then the others, apparently, and yet he’d begun to wear the man down at last. That cafe running just as Frost liked it to run even regardless of his lack of any real ownership over it in any sense. The man merely enjoying having every being in that place cater to whatever whim seemed to strike him that day and yet, for the most part, he was content to merely eat his cupcakes and ignore the majority of staff and patrons in turn. He held desperately little interest in them, after all. That mutual respect he and Alexander had found for one another assuring the white-haired man never caused any real damage to that place or any harm to Alexander's staff. Even despite his distinct ability to do just that. He merely liked to frighten them a little every now and then. Where was the harm in that?

That first cupcake was easily finished, that wrapper folded and tucked to the side as the man lent back in his seat, his fingers drumming softly against the polished wood of that table, his thoughts shifting in-between those further lessons he need impart to Malia on self defense and those more legitimate riding lessons Nadya had asked after. Even if he vastly preferred the idea of the ones they had taken to enjoying within the bedroom. That ghost of a simper dared to touch the often apathetic creatures face before such thoughts were pushed away. His mind instead inclined to consider his need to return to Iceland in the new year. Achieving access into a country in which he had previously been detained would hardly prove to be easy. A regular, commercial flight was out of the question and even then, finding somewhere to land another plane would prove a prominent point of difficulty. Getting his hands on weapons more deadly than a mere handgun would also surely prove to be a matter of contention not to mention his need to break back in to the very place he had spent a lifetime breaking out off. How many would he have to murder to achieve even that? How much more blood did he need soak his hands in? How unfortunate it would be to get himself killed when Tetradore and himself had struck that new deal. The matter of Nadya and her role in this still to be toyed with. Maybe he would speak to Alexander about it later. Maybe. Frost near notorious for his lack of words in any situation. Sharing problems hardly his forte.

The sudden sight of that vampire woman sliding in to the seat opposite him momentarily saw the lift of a single eye. Few creatures bold enough to speak to him let alone keep his company and yet for a few moments still the Alpha was merely content to watch the woman as she placed her coffee down, fished that small bottle of vodka from within her bag only to add it to the coffee. Hmm. perhaps that solved the mystery of whom had been here before him. That potent scent of that liquor sharp to his nose as those accented words at last rolled from his lips. The woman affording little true response before reaching forward to pluck that cupcake from before him and devour it herself. His features frowning slightly in response and yet he made no move to correct her behaviour. Frost, for now, far more intrigued with the woman then irritated. It had been a long time since he had met one so bold. Vampire or otherwise. The living dead so rarely bothered with Were-kind, after all, few vampires enjoyed the taste of human and animal blood that seemed to run through the veins of the Were. The woman declaring the consumption of his cupcake to be her retribution for his holding up the line. Frost merely leaning back once more, his fingers continuing to drum atop that table- his features remaining near expressionless before those cool, deadpan words suddenly left him.

“I did not hold up the line. The woman serving paused to watch what I was doing. She made that choice.”

He offered simply, bluntly, the words unarguably true- twisted effortlessly to shift that blame to where it surely belonged- upon the waitress, rather then the distraction his presence provided. Frost allowing his shoulders to shrug lightly before that comment upon whether or not his parents taught him to share readily saw those violet eyes fall back upon her. How little she knew of his ‘parents’. That tease in her voice clear all the same, the woman making some effort to goad at him. Those cool words finding him once more, any mention of his parents notably absent.

“I’ve found most people are reluctant to eat vegetarian, gluten free cupcakes. Vampires especially.”

In truth he half anticipated the woman to spit it right back out again. Vampires, to his knowledge, rarely chose to partake in any food that was not blood, whatever they chose hardly likely to be a vegetarian, gluten free option all the same. Still, Tetradore had liked that cupcake, what was to say a vampire wouldn’t? Even despite its utter lack of anything even remotely close to her preferred food source. What a truly odd woman she was, bold, confident, a little headstrong perhaps and yet that seemed to be a trend these days. Frost half inclined to wonder how many times her mouth had gotten her in trouble. How many times did she end up in shouting matches about those things she believed strongly in? How many times had she barreled head first into some decision only to realise far too late that she had made a poor choice? Ho long would it take her to realise her choice to sit opposite him today might yet prove to be one of her less sensible ones? The use of that nickname of sorts prompting that simper to his lips again. The stallion chuckling softly within the back of his throat. Did he like coming in the cafes and bullying bakers?

“Yes. I do. If that was not abundantly clear to you.”

Why should he deny it? He did enjoy putting that baker in his place in as much the same way as he enjoyed so effortlessly mastering the staff in to serving him when he required it. Frost hardly the sort of being to deny exactly what he was. Why bother? The truth was always far more entertaining than any lie. That sudden query about his hair, however, seemed to stir that first look of genuine amusement to his features. If he had a single dollar for every being fascinated by those snowy-white locks he would have been able to afford a mansion by now. Still, he supposed, in this country they were something of an anomaly. The vampire woman at least getting a prize for being the only woman ever to ask him if he was a ‘cosplayer’. Whatever that was. His head shaking then.

“My hair colour is very common in the country I was born. I am Icelandic. As for my eyes they are a genetic mutation. One brought on by generations of controlled...breeding I suppose you would call it. I was designed to look the way I do.”

It was never the answer anyone expected and yet, once more, it was the truth, Frost offering merely to the tip of that tale and little else in that moment. His hand reaching forward abruptly to pluck that coffee cup from her hand then. The stallion lifting it to his own lips then to sip at it. The bite of that alcohol surprisingly strong and yet it was hardly as strong as those native drinks he was used too. Still, it was a fair hit for so early in the evening.

“Since we’re sharing and all.”

He offered simply taking another sip before sliding it back across the table to the woman. The man finding himself intrigued with her all the same. She had chosen to sit across from him, so why not engage her at least a little?

“So what’s your sad little story then, hmm? Well adjusted people, even vampires, aren’t sculling vodka so early in the evening. Are you one of these sad little vampires filled with guilt over those lives you stole? No offense, but your race is probably the most emotional around. Are you trying to drink your feelings away too?”