Sacrosanct contains four distinct neighborhoods, each with their own specific kind of houses and residents. Explore our districts, view lists of our citizens and enjoy our block parties!

What You'll Find Here

Anacosta Heights
Dupont Circle
Hawethorn Village
River Dale

Anacosta Heights

Situated above the daily life of the city, Anacosta Heights is a tucked away suburb featuring extravagant neo-gothic inspired mansions. The inhabitants of this neighborhood often show their overwhelming wealth with sports cars lining their long, circular driveways, large pools, and manicured gardens. The homeowners of Anacosta Heights treasure their privacy as seen by the high iron gates to the security personnel present at every entrance.

Amelia Marek
Andras Stein
Boone Kendrick
Damon Marcello
Dareios Auerbach
Dorian Ellington-Aragona
Isolt Marcello
Kohl Jones
Ragnar Lothbrok
Sebastian Ellington-Aragona

Dupont Circle

Dupont Circle is a small suburban neighborhood settled within the serene portion of the southern portion of town. These four-bedroom, single-family homes feature back yards, porches, garages, and far more breathing space then the Village offers. This neighborhood often is more family orientated and even has organized events for children and the neighborhood as a whole.

Abigail Hughes
Beylani Rose
Gia Jones
Raylin Chike

Hawethorn Village

Settled in the middle of downtown, Hawthorn Village consists of several victorian inspired row houses just off the main street. Due to it's convenience to just about everything, the village can be a tad expensive to live within. However, the residents of this neighborhood often have two to three-story townhouses, often with a one to two-car garage. Many of the houses feature bay windows and/or rooftop terraces with a small fenced-in 'yard'.

Anastasia Romanova
Bjorn Larsen
Davante Dorian
Leila Van Acker
Mayuza Gracefell
Miyako Aiken
Morgan Van Acker
Quinton Van Acker
Ren Nomura
Serafina Dubois

River Dale

River Dale primarily consists of apartments that, despite their age and industrial appearing interior, still hold to the Victorian history that permeates the town. These apartments are often the cheapest option and sport scuffed, older wooden floors, open floor plans, visible beams, and the occasional brick wall.

Alekai Evero
Alistair Rosenthal
Audette Rousseau
Ben Collins
Carolina Bedford
Claire Grace
Emerson Navarro
Harper Thomson
Kenji Onimaru
Malakai Kanaita
Sterling Tenembrage
Sylvester Veres

put on your war paint (Davante)


Posted on November 15, 2014 by Alekai Evero
Residences
photo Alekai_zpsee39fc73.jpg

It was the rain that saw the tall blonde flick the hood of his ever infamous sleeveless jacket upward, obscuring those wild white gold locks that had some come to mark the man among others of his kind- stride even and yet silent upon the sidewalk, boots crunching softly against the gravel as he rounded the corner, golden eyes inclined upward in the gloom to find the name of the street, assuring himself he was correct before he pressed, every silent once more into the darkness of this particularly stormy night. Finding where this man lived had proven to be...more difficult then he had anticipated, if only due to the difficulties associated in locating someone by the name of Tom Riddle, a simple internet search having revealed that this was, indeed, some sort of fantasy character that often paraded about under the guise of a nose-less villain that Azrael found all together disagreeable. Finding the man from the parties true identity had been far more taxing and yet even so, had taken the Hunter little more then several days to achieve not only a name- but an address of both home and work. His second choice had merely been to decide when and where he would make his displeasure with this particular warlock apparent. It is this mans magical potential that marks him a threat, Azrael is sure, the often irritable man content to continue to assure himself of that, this was merely another target, a creature needing a lessons in controlling himself and his growing abilities else suffer the extermination the rest of his race has been subject to and yet lingering thoughts of the raven haired woman continue to permeate his mind, seeping into this thoughts far more regularly then Azrael is willing to admit- this particular warlocks lips gracing her skin inciting an...irritation the man refuses to acknowledge, determined that this was hardly personal- merely a job.

Davante had been entirely foolish enough to attract his interests, the drunken threats hardly forgotten and as such he is simply doing his work, content to offer the man the lesson he is so clearly in need off. It is...easier after all, to have a supernatural creature suppress their powers, live quietly and obediently rather then learn to wield the full extent of them in the manner to which Tobias and Raven have been afforded. It simply does not pay to allow a supernatural to exercise their full powers- to become powerful, Davante's very nature having grated against the aged Hunter and as such he has come to simply deliver a warning- should he refuse to comply, well, it would not be entirely unfortunate to have to remove him more permanently from the picture. Indeed it is rare for even a warning to be given and yet the enticing woman's evident.....interest within the man had perhaps spared his life- at least for tonight and at least for now, while Azrael's temper is still very much in check, the man surely unable to be blamed for anything that may be given to follow. In fact- he was rather looking forward to laying a fist or two into the arrogant prick all the same.

A momentary simper moves to cross his shaded features, the man strolling easily into the shadows of the apartments before stepping silently up the stairs and towards the front door. It is near one in the morning, the apartment silent, dark, the unfortunate warlock sure to be asleep as the Hunter launches suddenly upward in a burst of unseen speed, fingers hooking onto the terrace above, fit, toned form swung easily onto the balcony. He hardly knew the layout of the house and yet more often than not even the supernaturals of this world are given to fall into human ideologies, the vast majority of beings situating their bedroom within whatever room is given to lead onto the balcony- this time, he is assured, it will hardly be any different. For several minutes still the black-clad Hunter pauses, listening, ever cautious and yet he has survived this long because some part of him offers a begrudging respect to those he preys upon. When nothing and no one moves the man simply presses upon the nearest window, the tip of his saxe knife working to expertly and silently flick the latch upon the overly simple lock, stepping easily into the room.

It takes barely a second or so to assure himself Davante is asleep, sprawled out within his bed, his shape visible even within the gloom of the bedroom, Azrael content to merely...watch him a moment before silently pivoting upon his heel once more, reaching into his jacket to pull from it the length of rope he has brought for the occasion- having learned already that this particular man held some sort of ability with metals, Azrael already having taken the precaution of removing the majority of his metal weapons from himself- leaving only his less modern and yet equally effective tools at his disposal, saxe knife tossed aside and out of harms way. He moves to fix one end of his rope firmly to the balcony outside, wandering silently back indoors, monetarily eyeing the unusual décor and considering that the room smelt of.....cat before tossing the rope up and over a ceiling beam, working with silent and methodical ease before a veritable explosion of speed, one given to potentially wake the unfortunate warlock sees the end of the rope securely fastened around Davante's feet, tying them both firmly together before hauling abruptly back on another section of the rope.

"Time to wake up."

The words are uttered with a calm indifference, emotionless, empty as the warlock is rather unceremoniously hauled into the air, left hanging from the roof upside-down and by his feet, no doubt rather stunned and disoriented as the lights flicker and sputter to life, Azrael truly hoping this man did not partake of sleeping naked, the Hunter having no desire to view that much of him, head tilting slightly to the side to offer the upside down man a view of his assailant.

"We need to have a little talk."

The corner of his lip simply moves to quirk upward ever so slightly, reaching to drag over the wooden chair from the corner of the room, moving to seat himself upon it now, feet lifting to rest upon the bed in lackadaisical ease- giving the strung up man another few moments to come to terms with his predicament before reaching over to pull his bow into his lap. The carved wooden weapon is strung easily between his finger as a stone-headed arrow is withdrawn from the quiver he has hung from the chair, one finger taping at the deadly pointed tip almost experimentally before he flicks it almost teasingly and well within the warlocks vision, balancing it neatly upon one finger, one eye closing slightly in some teasing effort to take aim at the pathetically easy target before him, slowly and methodically loading the weapon now.

"Davante, isn't it?"

He raises the bow easily, drawstring pulled back now, deathly arrow, free of any metal, pointed directly at the mans vulnerable chest now before he rather suddenly fires it- shifting his aim only within that final moment to merely let it skim and lash his left side- arrow slamming into the wall behind.

"Hmm, my aim was a little off, maybe I should try again. Shall I?"

Some part of him....dislikes this entire ordeal, a deeper, more buried part of his humanity that he has struggled for so long to crush rebelling against this...torture and yet he simply moves to push it away, to try and force it aside- at least for now. Davante was one of them.....worth nothing, a creature of hell and little else. A job to be taken care off. It wasn't like Sera couldn't do better anyway.....



Alekai Azrael Evero
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