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

some say the world will end in fire (Calliel)


Posted on August 31, 2015 by Rixon Leifsson
Residences
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He had spent the better part of the day within his room, having sent Claire out early on something of a scavenger hunt, providing the woman with a list of items he assured her they required and surely they did, yet not nearly with the urgency with which he had afflicted it upon her- knowing full well a number of the items would be difficult if not challenging for the girl to obtain. She would not be home till late that evening and as such he was assured no interruption. His room had become a scattering of books, any novel or tome he owned upon the subject of his own species scattered about the man in a haphazard tangle of knowledge- one of the few perks perhaps, of his extensive library was the amount of free information it contained and yet the more he read upon the topic it the less content he became in the night ahead and the....suffering it would entail. Of all the things that he is he has never willingly afflicted a bite upon a human. It was a purposeless, wasteful endeavour. It would be months- if not years before she could shift at will and for the first few weeks at least shifting into either form would take hours for her to recover from. She would be a liability- one as wobbly and weak as a newborn foal. In fact- that was entirely what she would be, a foal in a grown animals body, doomed to injure herself more than any other and truly Frost is unwilling to hold her hand in this. She would either learn quickly or she would fail, coddling her would achieve nothing, nor was he the type to offer it beyond what might be deemed necessary for encouragement. Of all the mistakes he had made this was surely the one to cause him the most disdain, one he would be forced to suffer, potentially for years. She was a clever girl, at least, her potential for value enough to force him to consider assisting her in this. Hopefully she would not prove a poor investment.

His hand reaches at last for the phone beside him, a cheap, hastily purchased mobile that had singular purpose and yet a purpose he had ignored for the vast majority of the day, dialling only to hang up again until he tired of his own vile coward-ness and forced himself to allow the phone to ring, leaning back against the pillows of his bed until the phone connected and a moment of silence ensued. He very nearly hangs up once more, halted only by the sudden soft, feminine tones on the other end, coated in caution and little more than a whisper. Hello? H-hello? He is silent for several moments still, his own throat thick, unwilling to speak though he steels himself once more- words uttered on a sigh of resignation to the impending defeat of the situation.

"Mother."

The word is barely free of his lips before he hears her begin to sob on the other end. He can still picture her as clearly as the day he had left. Slim and neat, her blonde hair worn in that messy bun he had never believed did her features any justice, nervously clutching the strings of her apron, her eyes so blue and yet red and swollen from the tears she forever seemed to be crying. He waits- for he finds himself lacking any other words, waits for her to gather herself enough to speak again between the sobs. Three years you haven't called Rixon, three years! She wasn't truly angry, he knew that, even despite her tone and the use of the name she had given him at birth- one that seemed foreign to him even now.

"You know why I did not, Mother, you know I couldn't, just as you know why I cannot come home. I need your help."

He sees no need to give her false hope, though a part of him, perhaps, twinges somewhere within at the pain he knows he inflicts upon her with his assurance he is not yet coming home. As long as she remains in that...place he will not. For both their safety. Help? Are you injured? Baby, where are you? I can send money I am sure, do you need more

"I am fine Mother, you know I cannot tell you where I am. I don't have long, let me explain."

So he did, telling her of the blonde haired girl, Darius and the infliction of the wound upon her, hand running smoothly over the paper that rested beside him, hurriedly writing the words his Mother offered, her information more useful than the books had been, the snowy-haired man asking few questions though he found his features frowning in only further concern until she finished and topics changed once more to that which he held no desire to speak of. Rixon, please come home, I can speak to them, they will understand if I do, if I tell them the truth as I know it- you would hardly have to serve, you could return to other duties.

"They will not welcome me with open arms, Mother, they will welcome me with ropes and chains for the things I did and continue to do still and if they find I am speaking to you, you too, will suffer much the same."

It was never your fault, if only you could explain...perhaps Leif....

"Leif has never done anything for either of us and he cannot tell me from the rest of his hundreds of children so I see no need to involve him. They have been trying to bring me home since the day I escaped and yet it is not to throw me a party, Mother, I would be lucky if they did not shoot me on the spot and yet even that would be kinder then spending my days chained in a stable somewhere. I need to go. I'm sorry- for all of it."

He hardly gives her time to protest, cannot stand to hear her cry again as he hurriedly hangs up the phone, heat rushing to his hand until the mobile melts and destroys any chance of such a call being traced as he tosses the useless lump aside. It is very near dusk, the full moon due to rise soon enough, his own instincts assuring him of it as he folds his Mother's instructions into the back pocket of his jeans and sets out towards the home of the Hunter he had left the girl in several nights ago. He had considered several possibilities of late, having decided on perhaps the....most simplistic of those, a fire escape situated near her bedroom window providing the easiest source of entry into the home- her window fortunately open as he moved to simply step within- violet gaze resting upon the girl as she rested atop the bed, scanning her form briefly, assuring himself she had not somehow deteriorated further in those few days, nor that her uncle had removed her head from her shoulders before fingers extend to brush her arm and wake her. Voice low, quiet, lest her disturb the Hunter he knows lingers somewhere within.

"Calliel, come, we need to leave."



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