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

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.

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.

still just a rat in a cage; Petra

Posted on April 26, 2019 by Marcelo Rumeir

He purposely messes up that hair like brandished gold, wolfish smile finding his face. Marcelo wanted to go out tonight, although this was no different than any other night. But, the difference here, the same difference that continued to keep that wicked smirk on his face, was the weather was no significantly nicer than it had been in winter. Which only meant one thing...well, two actually. Rooftop parties, and sundresses. Dark eyes alight with a boyish delight at the prospect. He goes into his bathroom, earthen eyes looking into the mirror before he splashes his face with some water, putting on deodorant, and brushing his teeth. He steps out of the bathroom only to peer out the window and see that the sun was just beginning to set. Perfect. Marcelo grins, a bit wolfish in nature. Oh how he lived for nights like and this, and what the wonderful thing about Sacrosanct was, the parties never seemed to end. Those dark eyes, for just a moment, flash to amber, as if the animal inside him were excited by the prospect too.

The earthen eyed jackal boy has some how been able to manage his way into many of those more exclusive parties around the cities he transverses. Of course, it doesn't hurt that in the last 500 years he has made some good friends who always make sure he skips the line. And for those other folks he has met, those of mortal blood, maybe it was those deep earthen eyes, so almost puppy like, that people just couldn't say no to. Or maybe it could be that boyish charm he had such a knack for, Marcelo could really wriggle his way into any where, although, it did not always work out in his favor.

Without his immortality, Marcelo would have been dead a thousand times over. The amount of times a knife has found his heart, or a silver bullet has struck him, well, the earthen eyed boy has lost track by now it would seem. While he has found himself in the company of dark hunters and vampires, that did not come without risks as well. Dark hunters consistently wanting to kill him, and he has had his blood drained from his body a time or two, or twenty, or more even. Really, the whole process grew quite old after a while, it was enough to cause those earthen eyes to roll in their sockets. Seriously, how many women was he going to meet that seemed to have a neck fetish. A smile hits his face as dark brown eyes turn away from the window to move towards his closet.

Stretching his arms, he brushes his hand against those brandished gold locks before letting the towel drop from his waist and putting on a pair of underwear. Well, there was step one. Now to choose some sort of attire for the evening. This party was not one where Marcelo could simply throw on a pair of jeans and call it good, no, there would be a dress code. He debates as hand finds brandished gold locks once more in thought and decision, dark brown eyes roving over the clothes in his closet. He takes a pair a nice black, straight legged slacks, and puts them on over his underwear. A white shirt goes over that head adorned with locks of brandished gold and dark mocha eyes pick out a black jacket to tie it all together. He slides into a pair of nice white shoes (probably a bad choice considering he was planning on getting unbelievably drunk this evening) but the choice he makes never the less. It is only then, after a quick brushes of his teeth and once more messing those tawny locks that he heads out the door.

Once out onto the street, those mahogany eyes drop downwards to his phone, looking at the directions to make sure he was going in the right direction. He then proceeds to pocket his phone before stopping a cab and getting inside. Marcelo gives the driver the address and settles back in the seat. "Ah, the rooftop party, many people going there tonight," he says. "Yeah," Marcelo responds, smile reaching those brown eyes of his. "It promises to be a fun night," he says. Fun, well that was to be determined, but interesting it was bound to be.

When the cab pulls over, Marcelo gets out and moves towards the party in a way that is entirely fox like, and truly Marcelo was often times so much like that. Not all together canine, but so much like a fox as well. Fox like in his guile, fox like in his charm, his secretive smile, the uncanny gleam in his eyes that speaks of treasures just further than any mortal hand can reach. The very way he holds himself makes him seem more powerful than he is. He dreams of someday being able to glance casually in a person's direction, and that would be all they need to leap at his desires, and sometimes, it happens. When he reaches the bouncer, there is a petite woman beside him holding the list of those who could enter. A woman he recognizes as having once made her swoon in a bar, downtown, in preparation for this very night. "Marcelo," he simply says, grinning and she smiles back almost breathlessly. It is those dark eyes, I am telling you. "Go on in," she simply says as he moves past her. Marcelo lives behind a delusion that he is far more important than he actually is.

He has high hopes, but not any definite plans as to how to achieve them, because that would require well-defined choices and Marcelo was having far too much fun to sit around and figure that out.

Earthen eyes spot the bar and the jackal quickly makes a bee line for it. No way was he going to be at a party without drinking as much as possible. Especially when it was an open bar. He takes an open seat and sits himself down, ordering a glass of wine, a true Spaniard at heart, even if Marcelo had long given up his old life in that village he was born in. He swirls the ruby red liquid in his glass when suddenly he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and those earthen eyes widen slightly, even as he acts as everything is fine and takes a sip of the beverage. That scent, he knew that scent. But who exactly it belonged to Marcelo would have to figure out. A wolfish grin spreads over his face, he always did love a good game of hide and seek.

He steps away from the bar, still holding his drink in his hand as he begins to scan the crowd, that wolfish grin falling only when he realizes he sees no one he recognizes. The tawny haired jackal was not one to be deterred though, he was a tenacious thing. And that is when brown eyes spot her, tenacity paying off for him once again, indeed. You would think he would hardly recognize her after all the years that have passed, but it was sort of hard to forget about a woman who tried to kill you. Marcelo makes his way through the crowd and comes to stand behind her, hands in his pocket, brown eyes looking out from beneath brandished gold locks. "Hello, Petra," he says, a wolfish smile coming to find him. "I almost didn't recognize you without your fangs around my neck." Those same dark brown eyes narrow slightly in her direction, waiting for her to turn around. He smirks. Yes, this night was going to prove interesting indeed.

{ it is far better to live like a lion for a day than live like a jackal for a hundred years }