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.

Fight the venom, the good die young;

Posted on August 03, 2020 by CLEOPATRA

The insinuation seemed to position him in a corner, as though she could have him confirm her thoughts. So entirely stubborn he was, like an ox. His response was nothing short of vague, content to keep his secrets. The egyptian queen released his hand she had allowed to linger to examine not only the ring that perched proudly upon his finger and strength they surely possessed.

Her gaze hardly faltered beneath his seemingly stare. His admittance that he liked beautiful things. "Ah, who does not is too afraid to speak the truth." Yet her mind seemed to encircle upon that very thing. That offer of wine was one difficult to resist, the woman hardly content to haunt her entrance hall and she was certain he didn't just come to return her lost item. She commanded him to follow her, although it was hardly a blatant order. But he was within her home and for all purposes this was her kingdom and he.. Was her guest now, afterall.

The egyptian queen led him deep within her naturally lit home, a level of trust to allow him entrance in a place so very few have entered. She pointed out the hidden Iras with an idle gesture of her dainty hand, she knew all too well, the astute hunter would have seen her. The distant hmph admitted Iras' defeat even though there was not a hint of true distaste within that sound. The pair soon ended up in the same room she had been in before she heard of his arrival, alone. It was like she had been prepared for guests with that exorbitant but small spread of food on a movable cart, full of richly flavoured exotics fruits, including pomegranates, grapes, dragon fruit and juicy mangos, various cheeses and crackers. Even despite having no need to eat, there was always some level of abundance she had carried with her through the millenia. She hardly bothered with them, offering Alexander a sweeping gesture to indulge if he wished to.

She spoke idly while she poured their drink. The hunter was far more distracted by his surroundings, as he took to its examination, as if monsters hid themselves away within the cracks with the crown moulding. It was as though she could feel it when his eyes were upon her and when they weren't. That question of what would entertain her brought a lingering smile to her lips. Oh, if only he knew. She could think of any number of stories she would like to hear that would ultimately betray enough and yet... How there was so much more she could tell in a man who was indulging a tale of his choice. Surely he had no intention to bore her. "A great deal, I am afraid. However I should insist that you choose. I find just as much enjoyment in the surprise of it as how someone chooses to tell their tale. If you are slaying beasts in sewers on any given night you must have plenty. Or perhaps... there is one... much older." There was a hint of an ancient egyptian accent within her velveteen voice, it was all in the nuances as she pronounced those words. There was so much she could tell of a person when they spoke and how she wished to hear him speak, truly. Perhaps that was entirely why neither of them shared their names, as though they chose to remain anonymous so they could be simply whoever they wished to be. There was freedom in that. How rare a gift that was. If only that were true.

After all, he must have known all along. If he stood here, it was nothing short of apparent. It was a pity. She shifted, her dress sweeping around her, that fine fabric seemed to move effortlessly around her, it clung to her body. It was fitted to show off those curves and yet all while it possessed that looseness so she could simply feel the brush of her thighs, the whisper of fabric against her skin, the flirtatious breath of the breeze that managed to sift through. It might have been similar to what someone would imagine she would have worn back then, cinched intricately at her waist and somehow this was far better quality and perhaps more revealing of that hourglass physique. That fabric was nearly sheer as it was breathable. It felt as though she wore nothing at all and perhaps that is what she preferred.

She offered him that glass, who would have thought a queen to serve a guest and these times were certainly different. Although once more, their fingers seemed to touch, the barest of touches that lingered.. After all, she was always in charge of her actions and yet, she could not deny that strange innate pull she felt so rarely. She would need to examine it further, or perhaps allow it to remain a mystery, after all there were so few of those left to her.

It was almost like flirtation and yet neither one seemed to draw attention to it. How few things seemed to be an accident even though people claim them to be. Every action led to something. With her own crystal etched wine glass placed with her hand she swept away toward the gardens. She knew he would follow. She knew that his attention so fell toward her hips which moved in an almost salacious manner, like the hypnotizing movements of a cobra. Yet she could not push away the thought of that ring.

A wide array of plants and flowers surrounded them. A sweet encapsulating scent soon met them. So many flowers... so many poisonous gems littered between those harmless ones within this place of beauty. Just like her. She remembered learning of them when she was in her 20's, the girl fascinated by poisons... in all its forms. Most notably those ,from her snakes and yet... plants held equally alluring toxins. How strange it was that these plants.. Could have properties to heal... and properties to destroy. Sometimes there was a fine line between the two. However, here, there was a balance of the two. As if she wished to remind herself of the precarious balance of light and dark. She drew her wine to her lips, the first to drink as he drew to her side. The sweet breeze seemed to toy with that light fabric that clung to her, as it shifted about her like something mesmerizing in itself. How it seemed to reveal that slit that traveled up to her golden thigh, a mere glimpse of the smooth sun kissed flesh beneath. Marble statues littered throughout the garden. People from her past immortalized in a way here. Some she missed far more than others and yet she liked being reminded of them all the same.

She seemed to frown at his revelation that the ring was taken from a finger of a king. Was it he who took it? Or simply someone else and he bought it. A megalomaniac wanting to come close to a king... so he wore that sacred ring. Or could it have been his own. Alexander had such a ring. It bore his insignia. What did this man know of such greatness? Did he even have a clue? Perhaps he did. She could not yet tell how old he truly was. She could only tell so much based on feeling alone. However, after a moment of easy silence he continued, inquiring if she recognized it. The wording of that sentence only alluded to what he knew. "Of course I do. That insignia had meaning, to me, it still does." She eyed him with a studious glance. What was he getting at? Did he even know what he possessed? Of course, he had to. How did one get their hands on the ring of a king... except for the king itself. But the odds seemed far more against him. Yet that description of Alexander..... Had always prompted intrigue within the queen. This man here had... Blue eyes... sandy blonde hair. The more she thought of it. The more she allowed herself the barest of time to truly consider.

He spoke, not allowing her time to truly piece together that puzzle as if he could taste the thought.... His following words... threw her.

It was like a game of chess. One where he had positioned his pieces for a checkmate. He knew.. Perhaps it was foolish of her to wish to pretend even for a moment. Caesar. That name still stirred a vague sense of mixed emotion, his death had been avenged. Yet it was such wasted potential. If only he had been younger. "What do you know of Caesar?" Her eyes narrowed upon him in a deep consideration. So he knew. Of course he did, she suspected as much from the start. He knew what many knew her as, Caesar's lover queen. Not the woman who stood apart of men, who stood as their equal as any great queen should have. She stood apart from the rest. It mattered little that Caesar knew it. Or Antony did too. History and the modern world adored painting her into so many things. A harlot.. A temptress of men. Or was she really not truly above the shackles of Rome, just like her men were not, no matter how much power sang in their blood. She considered her words for a moment and chose to be candid, uncaring that she confirmed what he already knew. There was little purpose in that.

"He was not. He was a far better general than he cared for the politics of Rome. All while senators had plotted to circled him like vultures.. The very same men that revered him.. Praised him... had gained from him, killed him. An unarmed man" While she was not there for the stabbing. She saw his corpse, a hollowed desecrated shell of the man he was. She at least stopped him from being... violated in death... to further have his honour disgraced. A man once revered as a god, reduced to nothing but ashes. Hadn't the man that nearly conquered the world... had the very same happen to him?

Such topics it would seem, still struck a profound chord. He should have not died in that way. He should have died in battle, an honourable warrior's death. It was what he would have preferred. She reached out to feel the velvet petals of some fragrant freshly bloomed roses as she walked passed. Yet it was only in idle consideration before she halted in her tracks. "I will never forget that day... where little men could topple gods." Luck it would seem was bound to run out. If only the lucky were not blinded to that. She lowered her hand so it fell gracefully to her side.

How easy it was to relive it all. But she would not. That time had long since gone. The ancient queen turned and faced him then, her expression carefully fixed. There was nothing but the sound of cool water trickling from nearby from a fountain filled with coy fish that swam languorously and that persisting breeze.

"Many wished to be graced as Alexander was... yet no one could truly shine beyond his shadow. But you already knew that didn't you? After all... it is his ring that you wear." She stated it as fact. " Tell me.. Is that why you wear it? To pretend that some of that greatness would fall upon you? Luck favoured mortals destined to become gods... but even then, they all fall just as quick." How little it meant to be revered a god now. Surely this was not... Alexander nor... one of his legacies. Surely not. She had been in his temple. Had visited his tomb often as a child. He was dead. She would have known if he were alive, would she not? Was she not alive and breathing? Had they not boasted tales of her death throughout history? A perfectly staged thing as it was. She eyed him with her expression well hidden, save for her eyes that watch for any indication of the man before her.