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!
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.
Despite how abruptly their night had ended, Dareios couldn't stop thinking about the charming young woman asleep on the floor above him. She was pretty and just so enchanting. The vampire found himself craving her company, even hours after they'd spent most of the night together.
Their encounter devolved into a sloppy, drunken confessional of sorts. One minute, Dareios was attempting to gather the courage to kiss her from the tight, humid confines of his wine cellar, and the next, they were passing what was left of an incredibly expensive bottle of wine between them, while they sat crumpled on the dusty basement floor. Miya made Dareios feel a way he hadn't in, well... many years. 50 years? 100? He couldn't be certain. The wine was enough to instill a false sense of confidence in him to share his true identity. Miya had seemingly taken it all in stride, but the Mayor of Sacrosanct couldn't tell if she actually understood what he was saying to her. He was a vampire. And she was spending the night in a vampire's crypt, in some sense.
Once it became clear that Miya was just too drunk, Dareios had helped the disheveled young woman out of the cellar and back upstairs to the kitchen. He made her the pasta dish he'd promised her, moreso because he was worried about letting her sleep with all that alcohol sloshing around in her stomach. But he didn't skimp on the gourmet details. The kitchen came alive at 2 a.m. then, with the strong scents of the succulent sun-dried tomato sauce the New York Times cooking section had raved about the previous week. Unfortunately, the flavor was lost on him. But Miya seemed to enjoy it, for what it was worth.
Then the vampire carried her upstairs to a guest bedroom, where he laid her to bed still in her clothes. He struggled with himself to finally let go of her. He could feel those familiar predatory urges coursing through him as her warm, soft body pressed up against his chest. But he swallowed hard and pushed them away, delicately draping a blanket over her now dozing frame, and retreated from the room.
It was too early for him to sleep - it was only 3:30 a.m. So he returned to the kitchen, where he filled his used and stained wine glass with a thick layer of A-B positive, and worked slowly on cleaning the mess he'd made in the kitchen. Dareios then retreated to his office, where he tirelessly worked over the paperwork for two new ordinances he planned to present to City Council in the morning. His undead face looked translucent behind the glow of the computer screen. If he were still human, he'd have the worn lines in his otherwise untouched face from burning the candle at both ends for so long, lately.
He passed the time, waiting for Miya to wake up, by finally retreating to his own master quarters and showering. He slipped into a pair of blood-red pressed pajamas and a dark ashen grey robe. The sun was only just beginning to pass through the stained glass windows of his brownstone when he returned to the staircase and headed back to the kitchen. He'd left a Tupperware container full of Miya's leftovers in the fridge with a note for his maid, Rita, to take home. He passed by the container and instead grabbed a french press, and worked diligently on starting the morning's brew - another mortal ritual nearly lost on him. At least Dareios could appreciate the routine it offered.
His head shot up when he heard the familiar creak in the staircase, followed a few seconds late by Miya's soft voice. A thin-lipped smile reached his lips, but he wiped it away quickly. "In the kitchen!" He called out to her, then wondered if she would remember where, in fact, the kitchen was.
Dareios took in a deep, sharp breath as he prepared himself for a next-day reunion he wasn't sure how would go over. When Miya finally surfaced in the hall and then the kitchen, the smirk returned. His dark, beady eyes took in her sleepy appearance. She was just as pretty in the morning - with a hangover - as she was last night. If only she knew, he thought. "Morning." He said cheerfully, pulling a mug from the cabinet and filling it with hot, Earth-colored coffee. He placed it down on the marble countertop in front of her, along with a spare bottle of Advil Rita left behind in case of emergencies. "How are you feeling?"
Dareios Auerbach | Vampire | Vinyl