East

The east side of the city is the very heart of Sacrosanct - it's unique skyline is a clash between modern sky rises and small Victorian-inspired 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. It's here that magic thrives, it hums in every stone and can be felt in every breath. Often, newcomers to the city may become overwhelmed by such sensations but, eventually, it becomes an ever-present feeling that's hardly noticed.

What You'll Find Here

City Creek Center
Dark Hunter Department
Inner Sanctum
Red on the Water
Starlight Tower

City Creek Center

The City Creek Center is an upscale open-air shopping center centered in the heart of downtown Sacrosanct. With its numerous fountains, foliage-lined walkways, and bubbling streams, City Creek Center offers three blocks of chic boutiques, delicious dining, and the newest showrooms.

Dark Hunter Department

The City of Sacrosanct's Dark Hunter Department's primary concern is the safety of all of Sacrosanct's residences. Their public safety responsibilities include code enforcement and supernatural crime prevention. The Sacrosanct Dark Hunter's Department follows the directions of the International Dark Hunter Council and serves as a local point of contact for any Dark Hunters working within the Council's ranks.

Inner Sanctum

The Inner Sanctum is an independently's owned specialty coffee company and cafe with a singular focus: quality. A hidden gem on the side streets of the busy downtown, the Inner Sanctum source's the world's finest beans and local treats. From it's delectable pastries to the exquisite latte art, the Inner Sanctum is dedicated to both its craft and the customer's experience. With beans roasted in house and every cup prepared by the best baristas, you will never be disappointed at the Inner Sanctum.

Owner Alexander Macedonia

Barista Alexis Wilde

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 flair 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.
Home of: Elysium

Owner Isolt Marcello

Co-Owner Damon Marcello
Waitress Yumi Chizue

Starlight Tower

With one hundred floors and a 125-foot spire, the Starlight Tower rises high above the Sacrosanct skyline. More than just a landmark, the Starlight Tower offers a unique mix of restaurants, shops, and offices spaced throughout the building. Organized into nine verticle zones, each of which features a sky lobby and a light-filled garden atrium which merge the upscale interior with a faux landscaped exterior setting.

What You'll Find Here

Crash Choir Records
Pentagram
Ellington Enterprise

remember me for centuries


Posted on August 31, 2015 by Rixon Leifsson
East
photo 1638b989-d1ad-4590-8c4d-4d16fc4716cb_zps770e0cc5.jpg

The utter bluntness of the man's response to his inquiry about family is surprising perhaps and yet even Frost is willing to admit that after a certain number of years family would surely fail to have any true sway at all, either the relatives would simply become too distant or whatever hold family had once ensnared failed to continue to exist with any true sense of potency. As for the Hunter's assurance that his line had died out, the equine merely offers a shrug of sorts, whatever information he had managed to find about the Hunter's personal life had been gleamed over for the most part- though more than one source had indicated some sort of...fertility issue and the kind of problem even Frost is not nearly foolish enough to bring up. Even a thousand year old man was still a man and some issues still remain a source of pride to a certain extent, one the equine is willing to leave untouched, simply offering a nod of sorts. The return of the conversation to his own 'trinket' as Alexander so seemed to enjoy referring to it as only seemed to bring yet another frown to the Equine's youthful features. He saw little need, truly, to inform the hunter of the true implication of the medallions he was searching for, fingers tapping against the table in consideration of the words. Alexander was proving to be...more intelligent then perhaps the stallion had anticipated. It had been years, truly, since the horse had been inclined to meet another whom was even capable of reaching his own level of...cunning perhaps, and yet this man seemed to find every loophole and demand every detail unlike so many before him. It was both intriguing and infuriating all at once and yet the snowy-haired man refuses to allow such frustration to become apparent, features remaining indifferent, if not considerate, to the man's request as his hand reaches up at last to snatch the 'trinket' from around his own neck, placing it on the table before him.

"I cannot so much tell you what it does but I can tell you what it is if that is more satisfactory to you."

Long fingers twist atop it, turning the silver-coloured, near ancient piece around to face the hunter and allow him to see the engraving upon it, the racing eight-legged horse with the wild mane and tail, the writing surrounding the image a truly ancient form of Old Norse that even Frost struggles to translate- sliding it forward to allow the hunter to examine it however he chose.

"It is a Verndargripir, in my language, one of three. That is Sleipnir, the God of horses, mount of Odin- you do know about gods other than your own I presume?"

He would be surprised, truly, if this man whom had once, apparently, held a great fascination with Gods had paused at merely his own over the years.

"Sleipnir is the first, Freya is the second and Fenrir is the third, a trio of sorts, horse, cat and wolf. They are very old as I am sure you can tell, ancient really, crafted by a witch a very, very long time ago- one for each of the ruling families of equine, feline and canine. They are...symbols of Alphaship I suppose you would call them, they do nothing when separated, all three are required for them to be of any use. I have one, someone on the Hunter Council and I believe in the Mounted Division has the second, Freya, and I have recently discovered the third, Fenrir, being guarded by....a cat- but that one is not my concern as of yet."

It was more information than he had ever truly provided anyone with, the Hunter could chose to be satisfied with it or not, but Frost would offer nothing else, allowing the other man to continue to turn the 'trinket' over within his hands however much he desired as the conversation continued- a snort of sorts released at Alexander's determination to wait a thousand years if he had too.

"And how do you intend to get around his little trick as you call it? Are you capable of teleportation?"

One violet eye manages to lift somewhere beneath that shock of white hair, eyeing the Hunter momentarily, the man so for having shown no actual powers at all though truly Frost suspected he surely must have something to his name. The sudden return of that...buzzing sound sees the hors frown once more, searching momentarily for a television of radio he has failed to notice, fingers running back through his hair in consternation before attempting to distract himself with the Hunter's words again and the mans evidently unfailing assurance he is capable of such a feat alone, leaning forward to rest his head on his hands in a manner the stallion finds truly frustrating. It was no wonder, truly, no one ever attempted to bargain with this man. He was almost insufferable in his stubbornness and assurance he could achieve all such things alone- and perhaps he could, though why he was continuing to be so difficult about it the horse hardly knows. In much the same manner as the man across from him however, Frost sees little need to offer any display of frustration despite what he may otherwise feel- offering little more then a shrug in response- until the Hunter proceeds to twist his words back upon him, violet eyes slicing darkly back towards him in his first true show of irritation.

"The council will help you with nothing, Your Highness. Xerxes is part of the council, along with his immortals and I very much doubt the Council is going to help you, let alone allow you, to go on a murderous rampage of their Mounted Division. Declaring war on Xerxes and his Immortals is declaring war on the Hunter Council and maybe you don't think very much of them as I don't but I am rather assured they can rally quite the force of Hunter's if they choose. I am suggesting....King Alexander of the Coffee House- that we are a little...more subtle about this. I doubt very much the Council is going to allow you to kill or attack other Hunters. They are not going to help you murder Xerxes- I am offering too. Why do call him Bessus?"

His final words are almost an afterthought, a moment of curiosity really, eyes resting back upon the golden-haired Hunter before the man's words about his previous Horse, this evidently infamous Bucephalus , his words holding more bite then he truly intended them too- Alexander seeming momentarily amused as Frost silences himself. He...dislikes to be thought less of in any regard, these continued comparisons between himself and Alexanders last horse a source of irritation that he is not nearly so apt at hiding. The Hunter's admittance that he did, at least, get tired of living adding a more personable edge to the otherwise....prick of a man. A stubborn, irritating ad yet regrettably intelligent man. In fact, he may well have been the first Hunter in all of the equine's life that Frost has ever truly had any desire to....prove wrong by some sense of the word. Twenty years he had been hounded by Hunters and in twenty years he had never desired to assistance of any of them- until this one. He is disagreeable enough however- to continue to attempt not to admit it. Stallions are difficult creatures after all- the best ones surely the most difficult. Arms folding across his chest.

"You have never asked me to do anything for you, so I find that a somewhat biased comparison. Until you ask something of me and I refuse or gallop in the opposite direction, perhaps you should withhold your thoughts. You can hardly judge what you do not know. I have had riders before- they all seemed afflicted with a condition that saw them fall off- that is hardly my fault they lack the skill. I can hardly be expected to do my job if my rider cannot stay on can I? Besides, what would you ask of me that you so feel would make me waver?"

Whether it is wholly wise to make such a challenge of the hunter remained to be seen, Alexander's final words ensuing a silence between them once more, the equine diligently refusing to admit that he needs Alexander's help, a stalemate of sorts seeming to have occurred between the pair, neither evidently content to budge at this final hurdle. Frost remains unwilling to admit it as surely as Alex seems determined to hear it, the snowy-haired boy instead focusing his attention on the street outside, darkness finally seeming to have settled over the city as his fingers drum against the table- curious really, as to how long Alexander would sit here staring at him. Evidently quite a long time. Frost content to ignore the man for no less then eighteen and a half minutes in this unspoken battle of wills- the majority of men lacked this....patience , frustrating as it was and yet to yield to such a thing is....infuriating for the stallion.

"Fine."

It is very near hissed beneath his teeth with the sheer reluctance of the words. Why should he bring Frost with him to victory?

"-because I'm asking you too. I am.......asking for your help. Please."

God the words were like poison in his mouth- he has never asked anyone for help ever, let alone uttered the word please especially not to a Hunter. He can feel that shift in command, that imbalance of power, offering Alexander the barest touch of...authority with such a request and truly the stallion is livid about it- little about the war horse liking to be out done even in this slight fashion.





Frostbite
HTML by Apollymi

Replies