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!
Anacosta Heights
Dupont Circle
Hawethorn Village
River Dale
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.
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.
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'.
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.
Home wasn't just a place. It wasn't just where one was born and the chapters of their life began with the slow yet steady passing of time, where they grew up playing and laughing as a child without a single care in the entire world. Yes, that was what many defined a home as. Many considered it to be the four walls that held a roof over one's head, where there was a warm bed to slip into at the end of the day and fall sound asleep when night fell as the mind would drift away to a world beyond reality until that first morning light would filter through the curtains when the sun would rise in the east to bring with it a new day. By definition, that was what a house was - and yet it was hardly what the dark-haired woman considered a true home. For Adelaide, that large estate tucked in those gently rolling hills just outside of Paris was perhaps the furthest thing from a home when finally, she was grown enough to see that large manor for what it truly was. As time wore on, it only became clearer to the French woman that there was so little warmth that left her feeling safe and secure, felt like she was where she was meant to be. It had been those very sideways glances a she would partake in those more tomboyish games, ruining those expensive custom-made dresses with grass stains and tears in the fine silks and fabrics while climbing those trees or exploring an imagined forest filled with wild animals as she set out into those deepest parts to find sacred treasures left behind by ancient civilizations or maybe even pirates, that had hardly concerned young Adelaide before until she was old enough to see them. Noble by heritage and yet untamed by heart, that estate became a prison meant to hold her down instead of let her live her life as she wanted; to the fullest and without the smallest trace of regret. If it hadn't been for her sweet mother, she might have found a much more... frowned upon way of setting herself free instead of trying to appeal to the selfish and controlling nature of the wretched nobleman. But, here in Sacrosanct... here with Taylor in this small apartment and so very far from that lavish life she had been borne into, this was home. This was where she wanted to belong more than words could ever express.
While she did miss her mother on the occasion where her thoughts might carry her back to a time when things were simply in her childhood innocence and naivety, to those cooking lessons and how her mother had taught her to play through piano, not even the face of the beautiful older woman that Adelaide took so heavily after could bring about even the smallest sliver of homesickness. After all, while her mother had shown the young girl that she was loved - if only by the older woman if not by the man that sought to make her future as he planned - she had also done nothing to help her daughter that had started to become restless and unhappy in the circumstances life dealt Adelaide. No, she didn't entirely blame the older woman for trying to convince her to settle, to find contentment in all that she had and was given, but it was hard for the dark-haired woman that look past that emptiness in the woman's pale green eyes that bespoke of what happened to a carefree spirit when they surrendered themselves to a life they hadn't wanted in the beginning. Perhaps a part of the French woman wanted to believe that one day her mother would wake up to a letter that Adelaide would write, telling her of the things that she and seen and felt, telling her about how she was finally truly happy and that she would never be coming home, that she'd found the love of her life and that maybe to a small degree there was still a part of her that wanted to make the older woman happy. Maybe her mother wild smile then and that spirit of hers would be given some glimmer of light and fire again. This was just a dream of Adelaide's though, to think that one day she could make her parents see that this was where their wildflower daughter belonged. In this city, working hard every day to ensure that the bistro was teeming with life, spending those free moments with the man that had swept her away when it had been the last thing she'd ever thought she would want so much, that pride of what her life was becoming and that adoration only ever seeming to grow more each day for the roguish man, her heart had finally found its home. Because, in all the truth that could be found in the world and beyond, home was a feeling.
Adelaide knew from the way that Taylor had looked at her beneath the sky full of stars as they stood alone on that hill just beyond the city's outermost boundaries that he felt that he didn't deserve her as he was. She could remember ever so perfectly how he'd told her of his own father the night she'd cleaned the glass pieces from his arm by the warmth of the fireplace, touched only lightly on those demons that he had been running from. To this very moment, she could not unsee the darkness that had flickered across hunter green eyes. Then, as he opened up even more the next morning to share with her just how his father had made him feel like he would never amount to anything worthwhile, the pieces began to click into place only to come together when they'd snuck away together for that twilight adventure and he showed her how that, while he truly felt like he held little to no value because of his past that followed him like a shadow, Taylor wanted to be so much more. He had told her that night that he wanted to be deserving of her. She'd never felt so certain of something beyond her desire from freedom, but that night when he'd given her just a glimpse of what he might feel for her, she couldn't help but begin to fall for him. There weren't enough words known to mankind that she could offer him in assurance that he already deserved her, that simply in treating her as a woman and seeing her for more than her beauty and wealth, by simply promising to be there beside her so that she could feel all that she had longed for to the point of near physical aching, he'd already had that which so many men in France would be so sinfully envious of him for. He hadn't won her like the prize she would always refuse to be. Rather - and seemingly unbeknownst to him - she had given herself to him in a way. She'd chosen him as the only one to ever be worthy of the affections those very sons of noblemen would have gladly fought or killed for. And yet, the French woman couldn't help wondering how it was he couldn't see that she didn't care for those qualities he saw in himself which rendered him so undeserving. Had his financial depths or social status mattered at all to Adelaide, then the plain and simple fact of it was that she never would have looked his way. She tried to understand, considering maybe that her own standing might play a part in his insecurities perhaps as a man who might want to be the provider, thinking maybe he wanted her to have everything she could ever want or need in life. Did he not realize that she could happily give up those finer things in life for him to see the way he made her feel, that she would run away with him if ever he asked her to? Could he not see that living in a small apartment, working each and every day to make ends meet, this was the life she would find the most happiness in so long as they had each other? No matter what it would take, Adelaide was bound and determined to help him see everything that she could.
Banishing those thoughts for the time being, having long since decided that she would find a way to show Taylor all that he failed to see for himself in true Adelaide fashion, the dark-haired woman indulges herself in the company she found with the handsome man she was so very drawn to in every sense. Even the blind could feel the intensity that smoldered around the pair as the French woman pushed his control to the point of snapping altogether, her own perhaps even more frayed than Taylor's as she made it undeniably clear that she felt the physical attraction that sparked like electricity between them, and she enjoyed it to an extent that he seemed to find practically torturous. It was endearing and charming, only encouraging her to metaphorically venture even deeper as she refused to let up on those sultry smiles and smoothly spoken, clearly suggestive words that did nothing to hide their meaning. He looks away from her for only a moment then, though she hardly cared as to what it was, far too interested in the man before her to follow his gaze behind her. When he looks back to her, silken and lilted words quick to make known that she could see that inward struggle between holding back and caving beneath the flames of desire that burned in his gaze, he swallows again and runs a hand through brunette hair while tenor tones take on a lower note wielding a slight rasp. Dark lashes flutter over glittering sage eyes as that hand of hers shifts ever lower in that moment."It would certainly seem that way. I wonder what I might have to do so that I could win the favor of the opposing party...", she replies impishly, giving the man a kittenish wink as he so often would give her such a gesture, sage depths then moving to his lips for a moment before looking back into those hunter green eyes she could watch for days on end, her own illuminated with silent yearning that matched the desire she saw perfectly well in Taylor. She does nothing to stop him from grasping at her hand that teased that article of clothing, meeting his gaze with that look that would say all he needed to know. There would be no room left for misunderstanding by the time tonight was brought to an end she hoped was still hours away.
Lingering there for a moment as he pressed his forehead against her own, it was hard for the French woman not to feel a wave of contentment wash over her, the cologne she found herself enjoying more and more surrounding her as she felt herself wanting to just melt into him as she had when they stood there on the hillside to watch the city lights flickering below them. It was over far sooner than she would have liked, that gentle kiss on her nose deepening the endearment that she held for him and only him as they begin that little tour, barely reminding her that despite her desire for Taylor, there was still a part of her that wanted to see the home he was making for himself. When they banter playfully about his cooking, Adelaide reminding him that she would hardly hesitate at a challenge, at something new to experience, she can see his feature light up as he gives her that charming smile, nodding to agree in a few words to the date and time she'd chosen."It's a date, then", she says teasingly to him. Little did he know of how she was quietly strategizing on how they would be able to steal away for a few days. She would have to get approval from Townsend, which would be quite the feat in and of itself, but the dark-haired woman didn't doubt her capabilities to get convince the Englishman to let she and Taylor live a little more than they were now. Especially with the mention of his family back in Paris. It was the perfect window. She pushes away these thoughts for the time being, knowing she would certainly be revisiting them in due time as the roguish man shows her his apartment, Adelaide easily picking up a sense of pride in him. Things move to the bedroom though, and that's when again that desire for his touch returns along with that sultry look in those glittering sage eyes as she draped herself comfortably over the king-sized bed with dark hair surrounding her on that pillow, the thought of leaving her own scent of perfume behind for him to remember. While she commended him on that control he seemed to cling to, the bolder and more daring side of the woman seemed only more determined to break it. Slowly, though. For her, it was just another challenge â€" one that she would certainly accept.
Pushy was the last thing that she wanted to be, but it was hard for the French woman to draw that line when she felt that she needed to show him just what it was she was thinking, what the desire flickering like flames in a fireplace contained. If only she knew what had him looking at her almost in fear, that rigidness to his frame only making her think that there was a reason for his withholding that she couldn't help but be curious of. He gives her a smirk as she makes her way over to him, his words a clear attempt to try and make false words true. It was... cute, how he tried to insist when she could see right through him, even as his tenor tones whisper almost in secret. She disregards his insistent words though, pressing herself gently into him and going as far as to bat those dark lashes up at him innocently, like she didn't have the slightest idea on just what she did to him, even when that sultry smile said something entirely different. She could practically feel his heart pounding madly in his chest as its beat drummed softly against her breast. He seems to all but leap at the chance to place some distance between them at the suggestion of drinks, Adelaide trailing contentedly after him, eyes dancing with amusement as she watches him shakily pouring the tequila before handing her a glass. Taking a drink, Taylor chuckles, hunter green eyes shining as his tenor tones make yet another promise to her and all she can do is give him an impish smile before decidedly turning to the living area, intentionally moving slowly, gracefully so that she might pull on those strings of the desire she knew burned just beneath the surface of Taylor's resolve as it did her own. Walking only a few strides away, she only just barely catches the sound of glass cracking and when she looks over her shoulder, long hair of rich dark cocoa falling ever so perfectly around her shoulders, she watches him for a moment as he moves quickly into the kitchen to grab another glass, pouring yet another serving of the tequila as he begins preparing his meal. Settling there on the couch like she'd done so a thousand times before, she takes another drink, this time finishing it off and setting the glass on the small coffee table in front of her, back resting easily against the arm of the furniture so that she is turned towards the kitchen.
Entirely oblivious to the television that still played on low, she didn't want to miss a moment of watching the man as he moved about the kitchen. For a moment, she toys with the idea of the two of them cooking a meal together in that small kitchen, void of the same expensive appliances that were immaculately cleaned by Townsend who took great pleasure in baking and cooking in general. How the Englishman spoiled her with those dishes that he made, whether they were from his country, her country, or something he'd noticed out of a magazine at the grocery store as he was retrieving food and supplies for the house. She images a young boy on a stepping stool, cooking beside a woman with a warm and gentle smile on her face as she helped him crack eggs so that shells didn't fall in. This thought goes even further now as she tilts her head ever so slightly while regarding Taylor as he made those patties and began browning the burger. She could almost imagine him showing a little one of his own how to flip the patty just so, how to watch the setting on the oven so that it didn't cook too quickly. Something in Adelaide told her that he would make a great father someday. If that was what he wanted. His baritones distract her fore this train of thought moves further along, his question taking her back to that damned estate. He was right, though. They still had much to learn about one another, but she was more than certain such a thing would come with time.
She is quiet for a moment as she continues to watch him, even as those memories are dredged back up to the forethought of her mind. He deserved an answer, not that she would have ever considered hiding anything from the man to begin with. It was simply a matter of the dark-haired woman preferring to keep the majority of her memories from Paris away lest they move in a direction that would lessen the delight and contentment she was feeling with Taylor."No siblings, and the only real best friend I ever had growing up was Townsend. I was six when I first met him", she begins, accented words softening with fondness at one of the only fond moments she kept close to her heart, before coming to Sacrosanct that is."None of the other girls and boys that would accompany their parents who would visit my parents seemed keen on my idea of fun, which usually tended to be climbing the old oak trees or exploring the dark depths of the Amazonian jungle for lost treasure. What about you and your sister? Were you close", she continues, a subtle note of amusement finding her voice then, though it was at the second part of her words her sage eyes focus solely on Taylor. She remembers how the man had mentioned her in brief, the memory having not seemed too fond and so those soft words were spoken almost carefully, that look in her sage eyes saying "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to". She wanted to enjoy tonight with Taylor, not bring up old wounds. Not tonight. He offers her a smirk then, his tenor tones bringing silent laughter to her own, simply watching him cook. His features brighten at her comment on the apartment, smiling at her as he goes on to say that it was better with company, bringing back that impish look though she says nothing of what she wanted to. Not quite yet, even when he winks playfully at her."I wouldn't mind another glass", she answers in lilted words as she sat there, crossing one leg over the other as she continues to watch him. The patties were finished cooking and he quickly begins setting the plates, although thankfully not with the same focus on his face that she'd seen so many times on Townsend's. She loved the Englishman like family, considered him a brother through and through, but sometimes that man was just so serious. Yes, his past had been unpleasant in several places, and she felt for him, but she couldn't help wishing that there was something she could do to help him find happiness instead of always fretting over her. He'd have gray hair be the time he was thirty-five if he didn't. Taylor turns to face her, sage eyes once again admiring the man's frame impishly before they meet hunter green."Right here will be just fine. Townsend always insists on sitting at the table, but I feel like being rebellious tonight", she answers playfully before a small note of laughter falls from her lips as she waits for him to join her there on the couch.