Description - Exterior

The outside still pretends: faded marquee in cracked neon script, The Seraphim Room, just barely legible behind grime and bullet scars. Boarded windows hide stained velvet curtains. A side alley entrance now sees more use than the grand old double doors. The angel etched into the stone arch above the door has no face—just a smear where time, weather, and fire erased it.  

Description - Interior

Flickering lights, broken stage, and floorboards sticky with something that ain’t just booze. The grand bar is still intact—polished mahogany scarred with knife marks and sigils. Velvet booths are ripped and burned. What was once a dance floor is now half-pulled up, replaced with makeshift seats and stash points. The upstairs balcony is where the real deals go down—surrounded by stained-glass fragments that change color when Veil product hits the bloodstream.  

History

Opened in 1928, the Seraphim was once a high-society Black jazz club—tight suits, sharper horns, and the kind of late-night glamour the newspapers didn’t print. It started slipping in the late '40s—raids, overdoses, whispers of summoning rites under the stage. The fire in ’50 should’ve closed it for good. Instead, it became something else: a Veil-trap fortress disguised as a memory.  

Owned By

Nominally independent, but in truth, controlled by a coalition of hustlers and mid-tier gangs, with the Southside Sinners recently taking a growing share. Everyone knows not to make a move here without Reggie’s okay.  

Run By

Laney Fox, former jazz singer turned gatekeeper. She keeps the lights low, the doors shut, and the list tight.  

Employees

• Laney Fox – Manager, madame, fixer. Voice like velvet dipped in whiskey.
• “Cousin Rome” – Muscle in a silk vest. Laughs during beatings.
• Sweets – DJ and Veil cook. Makes tracks and tinctures that burn both ways.
• Grit – Bartender with blacked-out eyes and a head for numbers.
• “Baby Drew” – Runner. Fast feet, fast mouth, missing two fingers.
• Sister Candle – Stregona in the backroom for ritual healing… or punishment.

 

Regulars

• Southside Sinners working the floor and watching the door.
• Trap kings, Veil pushers, and corner kids on the come-up.
• Crooked Horn buyers in clean suits who don’t belong.
• CPD snitches too deep to get out.
• A horn player who only shows up on nights someone dies.
• Reggie—always in the corner, always with a new deal brewing.

 

Notes

• The original piano is still there—no one plays it, but it plays back when blood hits the keys.
• The Veil is thick here, soaked into the wood and walls. Spells go sideways fast.
• A secret room beneath the stage holds artifacts from the old jazz cult that ran rites here in the '30s.
• The building can't be seen in reflections—mirrors show it how it used to be.
• Laney answers to no one… except whoever she talks to in the locked powder room at midnight.
• Perfect place for a score drop, a forbidden Veil ritual, or a full-scale trap war waiting to pop off.