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.
There was, Matteo was certain, no greater and more persistent enemy to the farming world then weather. How frequently that veritable entity blessed them with just the right amount of rain or sunshine- only to curse them with frost or drought ot monsoons only weeks later. Ah, but she was by far the most fickle of the fates, of that the Frenchman remaned certain. Near 2000 years of life he had lived and still he remained at the mercy of that singular entity in so many ways. At least when it came to the business of farming. The loss of that beetroot crop represented thousands of dollars worth of produce and a number of irritated restaurants and suppliers that, for years, had bought that product directly from him. They would understand, he knew, the loss of that singular crop in turn hardly going to bankrupt the rest of the farm and yet despite the Frenchmans decidedly lighthearted nature and distinctly laidback attitude to life in general the Fae still found himself ill inclined to disappoint an entire sector of clientele. Matteo could hardly prevent that sigh that left his lips in the wake of the news those goats remained rampant within his sodden field. The very sound of his displeasure so managing to distract Aiden from his game for the briefest of moments before the boy returned to fighting that robotic monstrosity the Frenchman had known in advance had been waiting to assault him. In fact, Aiden was doing significantly better in his battle with the creature then Matteo himself had the first time. The Frenchman inclined to frown at his sons unusual capability. Ah, but how conflicting the emotions that came with parenthood! Matteo inclined to find himself pleased with Aiden's talented gameplay- and irritated the boy was better then himself all at once. How fortunate that perhaps that game would have to be attended to later.Yes, so unfortunate.
That near singsong utterance of his sons name, that very tone so surely giving away that hidden implication that the request to follow would hardly please the young man, earned the Frenchman little more then that decidedly blunt response. Matteo offered a roll of his eyes in turn before so attempting to coax his companion away from the game, the fireplace, the beanbag and the hot chocolate to join him within those sodden fields and beneath rain soaked skies. Such an idea, he knew, was distinctly unlikely to appeal to Aiden as either a person- or a feline. Matteo rose slowly from that sofa then, a raincoat easily summoned to his hand as he began to move toward that side door that led down from the vast expanse of the house and into the farmlands and fields below. Aiden, as he had anticipated, remained distinctly doubtful of any joy to be had from Matteo's planned 'adventure' into the outdoors. The WereKing remained focused upon that game instead as Matteo summoned a second raincoat into being. How decidedly he disliked too guilt his song into helping and yet even an offer of food, he suspected, would not prompt the other man to budge from that cozy space. Those lilting French lyrics were quick to insist that, in his day, sons rushed to help their fathers in the fields- especially when those fathers had bought them cars for their birthdays- so readily seemed to resonate with the other man. As Matteo had anticipated it would. That momentary distraction however resulted in Aiden's untimely death within the game. The game over message flashed onto the screen. How unfortunate. Aiden tossed that controller onto the coffee table with clear displeasure, a series of muttered irritations on his lips as he strode over to snatch that raincoat from the Fae's hand before stepping outside and into that downpour. Matteo was unable to prevent that slight chuckle that rumbled in his throat all the same. Those near teasingly sarcastic words finding his lips good naturedly then.
"Thank you, Aidun. Your generosity is boundless. Ah! I might be behind you but I still know when you are rolling your eyes at me."
He had been rolling his eyes at him since he was ten years old! Matteo, by now, near assured he could predict when Aiden did such a thing even without the aid of that future sight affinity. The Frenchman moved to follow his son down those stairs and out into the farmyard. How quickly that rain soaked through even his own shoes, the yard little more than mud beneath that constant downpour as Matteo moved to lead the way to that far field- or what remained of it. That beetroot crop, as Gregory had suggested, had been all but decimated by the floodwaters. His own men had repaired the stone wall as best they could for now to prevent that water continuing to flow in and yet it was that breech between his neighbours fence and his own that had resulted in the most damage. That once flourishing field was awash with ...goats. Miniature goats. Well over twenty of them. The animals, undaunted by the rain, foraged about that sodden soil for any surviving leaf while several others climbed atop the wall only to leap from it as if it were a game.
"Sacrebleu! Devilish creatures. They have eaten everything. This, Mon Fils, is why I do not keep goats. Oui, they are are bottomless pits of destruction. There is nothing they will not eat- and they dance while they do it!"
Matteo's hand waved lightly towards those goat kids that paraded along the top of the wall. The animals nothing but delighted at their game as Matteo scowleded further at the field. How rare it was for the Frenchman to show any true irritation and yet- that very thing so surely settled upon his features now. This- would be a long afternoon. Another heavy sigh so at last left his lips before the near ancient Fae pushed open that wooden gate to allow Aiden and himself into that muddied field, the gate shut behind them as he gestured to the right.
"We will chase them back through the hole in the fence, over there. I do not think they are fully tame. They should run when you get close enough. Shout if you need. Wave your arms. Herd them towards the hole. Hopefully they will follow one another. You go that way. I will go the other."
Matteo turned upon his heel then, his thoroughly soaked shoes squelching in that mud as he made his way towards that first group of foraging animals. How very much this reminded him of those early days within Alexander's army! Back when he had been charged with watching over those herds. Alexander, thankfully, had kept very few goats. Sheep, after all, provided wool, milk and meat. They were easier to keep and less inclined to deviant behaviour. Matteo still having lost far more of the animals then he cared to admit back when he had been no more than a mere boy himself.
"En route avec vous maintenant, à la maison, vous allez, des créatures stupides!"
Matteo's arms lifted to wave, those goats fleeing before him as he suspected they would, the Frenchman forced to run several feet to prevent them circling back as he herded them towards the break in the fence and back onto his neighbours property. How quick they were! Several of them attempted again to break away from that group and run back the way they had come. Matteo, this time, engaging that teleportation to cut the creatures off and startle them into running forward again. Scoundrels! The lot of them. That slick, muddy earth was difficult to run upon, Matteo's jeans rapidly becoming drenched in mud and rain alike as the man finally managed to herd that group back onto the property they belonged, the Frenchman turned then to eye his own son. Aiden seeming to.....struggle a little more as two goats in particular continued to run around the Were. A look of amusement so readily found the Frenchmans features then, even despite the rain. A warm chuckle rising within his throat in turn as he shouted down that field.
"Aidun! I know it is difficult, but you may have to run. If your legs still remember how."
Ah, but it had surely been years since he had last seen his son summon the effort to run, at least within his human form. It was several long minutes later before Aiden, at last, managed to herd those remaining goats through that gap within the fence. His son hardly having faired better than himself, the both of them mud splattered and far more soaked then even Matteo had anticipated they might become. Fixing that fence, in the least, was a simple enough task. Matteo simply inclined to restore it to the way it had been before. Those goats prevented from parading into his fields once more.
"Finally. Come, let us go back inside, I- "
That near pathetic bleating sound so quickly silenced the Frenchmans words. Matteo glancing near quizzical towards his son before peering around that field once more. That sad sound rose again and again above the rain. Another frown made its way to the Fae's features then, Matteo trudging to the side of the newly repaired fence to peer within those bushes. That tiny creature was nothing short of difficult to spot, that miniature goat kid was no more than a few days old at best and hopelessly tangled within those bushes. The poor creature, sodden and muddied, reduced to merely bleating pathetically about its predicament.
"Ah, Aidun, I will hold these bushes back, see if you can fish it out."
For all his own dislike of those creatures how surely he could not leave it behind! His eternal soft-heartedness, perhaps, inclined to show itself once more in those moments as the Frenchman held back those branches and leaves in an effort to allow Aiden to detangle that small creature. Just how small it was so readily became apparent as Aiden lifted the kid into his arms. It's dark coat appeared all the darker from the rain that soaked it, its tiny legs were thoroughly muddied and cut from the branches, its entire body shaking from the cold as water ran down its face and ears. The kid the very image of dejected in every sense.
"Hold it close to your body. It is freezing. It is to young to be without its Mother. She must have become separated from it when we chased them back, although ...I do not hear any of the goats calling."
That Mother goat, surely, would be calling for her kid as it called for her. That vertible silence so prompted a near uneasy feeling within the Frenchman and yet, for now, he said little off it as his silver gaze shifted back toward Aiden and the goat nestled in his arms. The tiny creature was near determinedly attempting to climb into Aiden's jacket in search of the man's body heat. That very action prompted a faint simper to Matteo's lips before his gaze met Aiden's own.
"It is too small to put back into the field on its own. If it cannot find its mother it will die from the rain and cold. My neighbour is home, I am sure, we will give it to him and he can find its Mother. Let's go to the front door. Do you want me to carry it?"
Farm animals, after all, were so hardly Aiden's ...forte. Matteo remembering well his sons effort to growl at a goose the last time he had been here....
c'est dur d'être un dieu.