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.

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.

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'.

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.

And in the gaslight that brings both life and death;

Posted on March 03, 2019 by Petra Ambrose
give me a little of your atropine

Death's sweet embrace would certainly be more a comfort than this pitiful suffering of an existence, surely even Sebastian needed to see that. Yet he never faltered the very opposite. Sebastian's tender words are like a singular morsel of hope upon a deceitful platter. How could he know? How could he believe the notion that left his lips then? Those words may have been pretty candied enameled lies and yet with that affinity hooking into her, it was easy enough to cling onto those lines of hope. She was once a confident creature, after all. Once upon a time, that ashen haired vampire was a creature that could rival a god and now what is she? Somewhere lost within that vast abyss of a lost woman she knows he can not truly know. Yet that comfort that envelopes her may not lessen the hunger, it soothes her emotions, yet she is still a loose cannon. Sebastian's lips pressing against her forehead was a kindness she had never known before. Such a tender sweet thing that she is hardly worthy of, glamour or not, it was still a hand pulling her back from that ledge she was so keen to jump off. Instead of jumping, she leans into that tenderness, such a foreign short-lived thing it was.

Guilt, it rushes through her quick and completely. She was not deserving of this life, she was nothing more than a monster, chasing shadows that could never be caught. How could anyone surpass that very remorse? How could anyone tolerate the pain? How could she live with herself as this... this thing? He claims they have all done things and yet.. "It does not forgive it." That voice is nothing more than a trembling crumbling thing, one touch and it would surely be reduced to dust. Yet again, the promise of food is that lure that draws her out of those horrid thoughts which tumble with hollow relentless vengeance through the dark wastelands of her mind.

It is when they walk down that long pathway that leads to the front gate, that night is beautiful with its silvery glow and yet she could not enjoy it. Those hindering guards seem to distract her, all she could do was hear their delightful pulses pounding within their necks. How distracting it was. They looked at her with judgement in their eyes, she could see it, taste that ridicule and how she hates it so. How it makes her feel like a weakened broken little fawn on trembling legs, one that Sebastian seems so intent on not allowing to fall. All while soothing those adoring guards worries, how Petra could do nothing but watch with utter bafflement until their eventual release of that compound.

Sebastian's words pierce through that thick fog of her mind, she could feel that soft shrug of his shoulders as if he knew a life of lonely. These two vampires were so entirely opposite, it was so blatantly clear that Petra and Sebastion were like two separate sides of a coin. One side of a man deeply loved by all and other side was a woman who was despised, trying to claw from the rubble of her life. How hard it was to grasp that very concept that people truly cared for him, out of true adoration. That frail shards of a woman rakes her own brain, trying to make sense of a concept she could not ever seem to grasp. Yet another emotion to dissect and understand only to come up short. How long had she lived without the care of another, she merely took what she wanted, possibly taking people that were cared about like he was from.

"What makes people care?" She wonders out loud, perhaps even sincere in this disjointedness. She walks down the uneven cobblestone floor, her legs slightly wobbly beneath her and yet he is strong and because of him, she tries. That guiding force she relies upon. How this was not how she intended for this night to go.

The ashen-haired woman was entirely unsure how long they have been walking for, or the actual time of night it was. Dawn seemed so far away and yet time was a concept she hardly knew at that very moment. Those guards and their concern still fresh upon her mind, did they truly think they could protect Sebastian? He was vampire.. that possessed such otherworldly strength and gifts that make them like gods amongst mere mortals. She responds to those words, willing to let those complex thoughts drift away for now. "There always is." She sighed as they continued down that unknown pathway, illuminated brightly sprawled out before them. She relied wholly upon that other vampire, entirely unaware of where they were going and yet she hardly cares. How carefully Sebastian navigates away from the others that cross their paths. It was like a careful dance of avoidance and the other vampire seemed to excel at it greatly until they arrived to their destination which clearly meant food.

He barely answers her questions and yet Petra seemed far too consumed by that quaint cottage-like shop and the smells to care. People, she could hear them out and about in the distance. Her attention waivers, her body quivering from that hunger and very weakness that wreaks certain havoc upon her fragile form. She couldn't even give into those instinctual hunting whims if she tried. He asks for her to be quiet and she merely gives into that command asked of her. "Okay." She mutters softly, too softly, still distracted by those distance voices, those distant heartbeats.

Silent she was then, she doesn't utter a word, simply taking in the sight and smells of that old-world bookstore. Anticipation builds within her, but it is so very fleeting. So much trust lingered within that man that destroyed her and yet she was too lost in that soothing embrace of his power to care, too weak to lift a finger against him. Not that she would ever hurt him, not underneath that sweetly lulling spell. Trust. Not a common thing from this woman and yet she trusts him, even if it was not entirely of her own accord. What a dangerous power he wields.

Fortunately, there was not a soul that stirred within that shop.. nothing living anyways, except for that shop keeper. How the rush of blood flooded to her cheeks, it was entirely appealing. Her pitter-patter of her heart scurried like a mouse's tiny feet against a wooden floorboard. Petra, for a moment, seemed entirely entranced, by this encounter and that very human. Her blood was calling to her sweetly even if it sang only for Sebastian alone. How it hardly mattered then. She could hear that charm from the vampire's lips, as he ensnares her with such ease, that shopkeeper helplessly falling deep under his spell. Not that she needed much persuading.

Petra leans against that countertop in an effort for support, fixated only upon that luxurious heartbeat of that very willing woman across from her. Willing for Sebastian at the very least, how those powers seemed so effective. The other woman spoke of wanting to go to Paris, her voice was dreamy, hopeful and so full of delight, reaching for Sebastian seeking out that contact only he could offer her. How her desires were so very evident, as she practically throws herself at him. Is that how she was that night in the alley? Yet she hardly seemed to care about that now.

"I can.. Should I restrain her?" She tips her head to the side, seemingly off kilter and that very act seemed to question. She had pinned people in place with her illusions before. Surely she had to now?

She tries to focus on her illusions, tugging weakly at those threads that tied her to them, how frail they were, she could not help but wonder if she even had the juice to fuel those visions. A whole city no less. Yet she does as she is asked and attempts what seems like the impossible, sealing her eyes shut her eyes trying to paint a picture of that beautiful place. How she attempts to focus with every last ounce of concentration and dredges of energy she could in order to consume that little book shop with her illusions and simply take them somewhere else. When she opens her eyes, they are at the base of the Eifel tower, the moon's tender pale glow bathing the three of them, while those city lights twinkle near magically. It was just how she imagined except for one detail. Not a single soul seems to dwell within those usually busy streets, she could not have added another detail simply because her mind was like sifting through cotton. How the illusionist could only hope this would be enough so she could fill her thirsty veins. Her unusual teal eyes peer up at Sebastian then with a clear look of expectation and perhaps even flickering hope.

petra ambrose