South

The southern part of the city has a chic family-oriented sort of charm to it. Here, small locally owned shops run rampant, neighbors often know each other by name, and the monthly socials are an event not to be missed. In the South, children can often be seen safely playing in the park or on sidewalks and in the weekends, families often take to the beach to enjoy the warm waters surrounding the city.

What You'll Find Here

Ascension Center of Equitation
Hyde Park
Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium
The Outskirts
The University of Sacrosanct

Ascension Center of Equitation

The Ascension Center of Equitation is the epicenter of the Dark Hunter Cavalry Unit. Originally a high-class facility for show-jumping, Ascension now caters entirely to the Cavalry Unit. Here the Dark Hunters learn how to ride and fight upon the backs of horses - many of which are Were's themselves.
Home of: The Cavalry

Hyde Park

Hyde Place takes up a large part of the Southern side of the city and includes a large playground, several fountains, and a small garden. The park is open from five in the morning till midnight though many shady characters may visit this place while it's technically "closed". The park has also been a venue for several concerts and hosts many holiday-related events. Under a full moon, witches are often seen here for the sacred ground beneath the iconic Weeping Beech.

Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium

The Point Defiance Zoo & Aquarium (PDZA) is an award-winning combined zoo and aquarium located within the Southern Part of Sacrosanct. Situated on 92 acres in Sacrosanct's Hyde Park, the zoo and aquarium are home to over 9,000 specimens representing 367 animal species. Point Defiance is also widely known for its conversation efforts regarding the breed and release program of Red Wolves.

The Outskirts

Beyond the city limits and over the bridge lies the deep, dark, and almost impenetrable forest. Often seen as a way to guard this magical city against the world that surrounds it, many are entirely ignorant of the evil that may creep between those tree trunks. Many were-creatures use the forest for the transformations of their newest members and some even take to hunting here. It isn't particularly peculiar for people to go missing within this forest but once you get through, the rest of the world awaits.

The University of Sacrosanct

The University of Sacrosanct offers some of the top programs in the nation with its outstanding campus and specialized faculty. The University places a high focus both upon educating future generations but also on research to help revolutionize the world. The University welcomes the talent of students across the world to enroll and unlock their unlimited potential. With applications from across the nation, classes fill up quickly.

PhD in Plant Biology Abigail Hughes

girl you make me a criminal


Posted on May 19, 2016 by Rixon Leifsson
South
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Some part of him, small and forgotten, is half given to consider that perhaps Raven had the right idea. The girls obedience seemed to spare her the Hunter's wrath, her past trauma seeming to have resulted in a forced helplessness of sorts that rendered her compliant to his demands or at least unwilling to fight against him. That in turn seeming to please the Hunter and yet it is that very pleasure that Frost so staunchly refuses to parlay too. He simply cannot bring himself too. He has seen the very best and the very worst of the hunter breed in his time. He was born to a land and a place determined to tell him who he was and what he would be before he could walk, he had been on his knees before them before and he simply....refused to be ever again. Whatever horrors Raven had suffered had rendered her introverted, broken inside and out and perhaps he was no less fractured. His own breaks however- are far more guarded. After all, the world had taught him so desperately young that kindness did not truly exist. People were kind when they wanted something, people were gentle only to coax you closer to hurt you all the more, love was....debatable at best, a concept that even in his adult years he did not fully comprehend. This Hunter- was simply proof of that, all of that which Frost knows to be true about the world. Bowing to him was simply out of the question, every fibre in the stallions being rallying against it. He had chosen fight a long, long time ago.

The hand seizing his throat is near as firm as the collar itself, the irritation in the Hunter almost palpable, his injured chest protesting the action and yet he makes no more to flinch away from the man as he leans closer. He is foolish perhaps, to Raven's mind in the least, meeting the Hunter's gaze levelly and yet if Raven is a product of her world- Frost is simply a product of his. Fear achieved nothing. Fear was useless. The weak got nothing, the weak died. He was born an Alpha, his very species given to dominance, his personality, his breed combined simply refused to lead- meeting the man's gaze in a deliberate challenge. After all, he never has been beaten. If Frost had learned anything from his childhood it was that he would, in the end, simply outlast those whom made any effort to come against him. He had learned so young that others would break well before himself. They always did. He has experienced nothing else. He always has been stronger. He had to be. The words that spout from the Hunter however are entirely unexpected, this mention of a child, a daughter, seeing genuine confusion touch his features.

"Calliel?"

His answer comes with a rather significant slam into the concrete, a roaring headache erupting near instantly from the place his head has collided twice with the wall, the hot, sticky feeling of blood matting into the white blonde of his hair and running down the back of his neck earning a groan from him as he moved to lean forward ever so slightly to alleviate the pain within his chest and throb within his skull- the Hunter already moving away, Frosts words following him all the same.

"I didn't attack her.....Darius....he's Xerxes horse.....she got caught between us, I was aiming...for.....for him not her. It was a mistake. I....didn't attack your daughter that day....I stopped Darius from killing her."

There is a brief pause, his laboured words hanging within the air and yet he hardly seeks any sort of thanks from the man, nor believes him capable of truly understanding as his lip merely curls ever so slightly, Frost incapable, even now, of being silent when he should, his agitation at this man burning within his veins. His power after all, even the bare hum of it which exists, is not always a truly useful thing. He cannot back down, his will power a disease as much as it is an antidote.

"She's better off....without you though....no offence....but....your kind of.....a dick."

It is perhaps the single and only time Frost has ever found himself grateful for Azrael. His opinion of the man was not particularly high and yet he cared for Calliel, almost as much as Frost himself, even despite the stallion's often indifferent seeming attitude. If anything happened to himself it was almost pleasing to the stallion that the young blonde girl would surely find her way to her uncle not this man....this Father, one Frost has already decided he has no desire to ever inform her of. To know this man was alive would bring her no pleasure- of that he sure. The blonde man is afforded precious little rest however, the ache in his skull and the burn in his chest only increased as he manages to struggle to his feet once more, the knife he is offered, along with the command to harm the wolf girl seeing both hurled back at the hunter with considerable force. He has little intention of dying here, his pride will hardly allow him, nor is he willing to let this man find Calliel or the rest of his pack. The Hunter so unknowingly offering the stallion all the more reason to stand his ground as the man is replaced with the beast- iron hard hooves slamming into the chain over and over as he bends it well out of shape. Violet gaze steadfast on the mans own.

Raven would be of little help, the girl too broken, well beyond his ability to coax her out of tonight- the woman so conditioned to her obedience she simply remained upon the floor yet his thoughts on the girl hardly travel far as his feet are hauled forward again, the working chains about his forelegs and neck forcing him to face the wall. One ear rotates to the side at the sound of the mans words, his good eye moving towards the sight of the gun pointed towards him. It is hardly the first time he has ever faced such a weapon, indeed he has been shot before, the man simply beliving the Hunter has finally been pushed to far, prepared to deliver upon the threat so many Hunters had afforded him since his early teens. He would be better off, they has said, with a bullet between his eyes. The stallion merely bracing himself for it. At least he would die being proven right- there was nothing good in this world, not truly. The sudden succession of short, quick shots however is hardly what the stallion anticipated, several sharp stings at his side seeing the horse prance sideways as much as he was able before an entirely different sort of fire flooded his veins- forcing him back to his human skin.

The flood of sedation through his veins his him like a wall, legs buckling beneath him, utterly unable to hold himself up any longer as every muscle simply feels....utterly exhausted, Frost incapable in that moment of offering any defence against the Hunter's approach as that hum of electricity vaguely alerts his mind to what is coming.

"Not....again..."

The words are little more than a mutter as the pain of electricity sparks wildly throughout his form once more, the side of his face burning wildly, the man's words echoing and yet it sounds....almost far away, the force of the mans kick seeing him hit the ground once more and this time.....this time Frost finds himself almost.....unwilling to get up. It was easier to stay down. Yet it seemed he was going to be denied even that, the chain at his neck hauled upward, forcing him to stand. He can barely breath this time, gasping for breath when he finds himself released at last, collapsing against the wall with the Hunter's voice still ringing within his ears. He had been 'punished' so many times in his life he'd become near immune to it, dead to it as he was to so much of the world. The vaguest of memories long forgotten stirring within his mind. How many riders had he had? The images of Hunter after Hunter standing over him rushing through his mind for Raven to see. Men like this man, though even they paled in comparison. Yet the principal remained the same, the easiest way to train a horse was still to break it, crumple it into nothing. If it hadn't been for his Mother putting him back upon his feet every time, assuring him life was not nearly as bad as he believed, he is entirely sure he would have fallen apart well before now. He would have become Raven.

For a moment his violet gaze drifts towards the wolf girl once more, the girl having been spared much of the Hunter's attention, her obedience seeming to have earned her that much and yet the mere sight of her sickens him all the same. How had she allowed herself to be that broken? That conditioned? Maybe he understands now. Maybe this is what that felt like. He could barely stand, every limb protesting, the thought of trying to move an effort he is unsure he wants to rally again. Maybe subservience was easier. He can feel his mind rebel the thought the mere moment it dares enter and yet he's....exhausted. For years so many Hunters had tried....years, and this man had brought him to his knees in an hour. It was hardly fair, his every limb chained, his blood thick with sedation and his body bleeding and for half a moment that stallion is at least content in the knowledge it took this....all this, to finally bring him down. Yet still his head shakes, unbelievable truly, though it does, refusing again the man's request, turning his back on the knife, though he can barely bring himself to stand. It is not Raven he seeks to spare. It is the very fact the other man believes he can be commanded like a....pet. He is not a pet. He is not a number. He is not just a horse to be used for cannon fodder as the Hunters so often did with their mounts. He....had a family, children, the reason he had fought for so very, very long and yet....what had been proven tonight other then that the world was entirely as deplorable as he had always believed? It was never fair. It was never righteous. People existed to be used and yet for so long he had refused to be one of them. Yet there was nothing left to fight for....not tonight. He wasn't going to win this battle and for perhaps the first time in his existence.....he is forced to yield. He is glad truly, none of his pack are here to witness this.

The sound of the Hunter moving again, the chance he is about to return with the electrical stick or haul him back against the wall a third time sees the barest of mutters sounding from within the man.

"Ok."

He will not survive a third round, of that he is entirely sure. The murmured sound his first note of acceptance he has offered all night. One hand reaches at last for the knife at his feet, grasping the handle as what remains of his will power at least sees him pull himself to his feet once more and move towards the cringing girl. He had turned his emotions off once before- he could do it again. He hardly waits for the girl to respond to his presence, merely seeking the easiest target available to him- her leg. It is easy to slam the blade down and right into the calf muscle of her right leg, embedding it there with the force of it before stepping away, words loud enough for Raven alone to hear.

"You always were a pawn Raven, now its just in someone else's game."

He steps back against his wall once more, leaning on it with relief before his gaze finds the Hunter once more. Fighting against him did nothing, obeying him seemed to do little as well if Ravens new injury was anything to go by, it was merely a slower way to die and yet for now at least Frost is...inclined to survive a little longer. Though to what ends he no longer knows.



Frostbite
HTML by Apollymi

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