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.
Out go the lights and bump goes the night
And with your fear comes my delight
Retribution would be the sweetest wine to revel in. It was a pity that her progeny was so resistant and hindered by false ideals and fairytale dreams. The quicker she let those ideals rot the better it would be for her own sanity. Just how many years would Isolt need to grasp the error in her ways? Just how long would it take before she realized just how much she lost by turning her haughty cheek. Such a naive little swan. Isolt spat her words and violence flashed behind her maker's striking, hypnotic blue eyes. "You will regret those words, child." The vampire queen's gaze fell upon her with agonizing scrutiny, the statement laced with promise and wickedness as though she possessed forbidden secrets she had no interest in sharing. A tinge of a smile pulls upon her blood red painted lips, a rich hue that appeared so striking against her porcelain flesh. How she could have let that vicious rage pelt her into the ground where would have been if she had not turned her.
She always had a taste for the difficult ones.
With a god-like vengeance she had called Tetradore to her side, for that statement alone. To allow her to relish in the actions that could not be changed. He was hers no matter what feeble tryst they had forged and bonded over. It would only lead them down that familiar road of pain and suffering, trapped within the dungeons of their own minds. It was true that the blue-black haired devil-woman could carve up flesh like no other, but to get into ones mind, to truly make them feel helpless. Now that was deliciously gratifying.
Risque called upon Tetradore's beast with the force that could not be fought. A force that left no room for suggestion and interpretation. It was a demand so potent it was torn from his own grip with violent urgency. His shift from man into beast torn from him, as his caramel flesh burst into that familiar glossy ebony feline.
She heard Isolt's desperate plea a faint whisper amongst the roar of power that flooded the room like a havoc-wreaking tornado. It was not directed at the blue-black haired vampire, but at her feline. A cruel smile toyed upon her sinful lips, savouring that despair.
She ran her slender hand through that glossy black coat of that large impressive creature that now stood beside her. An action that could only be described as possessive and torturous.
"I think it has been a long time since Isolt felt true terror.." It at first seemed like an idle thought but nothing was ever hollow when it came to Risque. Of course, she could have taken her away, break her piece by piece, torture her with Tetradore's bite and a silver blade. But this certain brand of torture was of a variety that could not be planned as perfectly as it was now. Like domino pieces placed perfectly in place, all she needed to do was knock it all over to watch them fall.
It was then that she let that power fill her and let it pummel into him, keeping him on a short leash.
She plays her panther king like a marionette, practically gripping his power for that very fear, one he did not use enough. She focuses on it, squeezing it with metaphysical hands so it bursts through him and right toward his beloved little trinket. "Why don't you show her." she purrs her poisonous words, laced with more than they could comprehend. The power was suffocating and like a frenzy of hungry sharks, she could feel it, every corner, crack and crevice filled with the energy's unnatural rhythm.
Risque reveled in that gift that was bestowed upon her most cherished feline. She was hell itself, Satan incarnate and Tetradore was in this very moment her demon clinging to the last relics of his soul. Little did her ruby haired progeny knew that there would be a bone carved seat beside her should she finally come to reason. In the meantime, perhaps it was time for Isolt to truly taste what Tetradore was made of, the monster he had become and would once again slip into that mold like a custom fit glove. Even though time has softened him like a bruised ripened fruit, she would make him hard to this world once more.
And it starts and ends with her.
Risque
just face the moon and put your death mask on