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.

when i used to rule the world


Posted on January 08, 2021 by ALEXANDER MACEDONIA
Residences


How many times had he told this tale over the years, it's utterance was far more akin to the telling of a story then recounting an event that had happened to the Macedonian King. Those details were kept purposefully vague, Alexander speaking only what was necessary to quell the inquisitive mind of mortals. He sipped leisurely upon his wine as he spoke, altogether aware of the intensity of Cleopatra's gaze upon him as she laid stretched out upon her daybed beneath those layers of gossamer silk. The firepit between them, at the very least, kept the gazebo at a comfortable heat, though with the level of opulence the former Queen surrounded herself in, Alexander was hardly surprised. She was the very embodiment of ancient royalty - a woman who had never had to go without while the men like him were off at war. Still, Cleopatra was quick to cut to the heart of the matter, the woman altogether attentive to just how far the Greek warlord had fallen. Her idle comment of his anonymity in dispatching the serpentine creature that had stalked the sewers was met with an offhanded shrug. Once, his pride had demanded every conquest went acknowledged, and now....now the King's existence was knowledge only for a particular niche of the population. Oh, how it still stung, even after all these years...even if Alexander merely appeared to shrug off that victory as inconsequential in comparison to all he had once conquered.

Alexander cared little for the distinction that Cleopatra seemed to make when it came to her possessiveness, or lack thereof, of the giant snake that'd stalked the sewers. She seemed keen to insist that the snake was never hers to keep, that he was beyond salvation. Alexander had never been one to share the same feelings when it came to the creatures of his own interest. It had little to do with control, Frost very much his steed before he would ever allow another to ride the stallion. No creature, as far as Alexander was concerned, was beyond salvation. It was the humanity within the beast that had been his downfall. Animals were so often less savage than that of mortality. The Dark Hunter provided the Egpytian woman with little more than a brief rise of his shoulder in a shrug, only to instead inquire upon the part of the deal she owed him - knowledge of his own temple, one long lost to time and likely equally as vandalized by treasure hoarders alike. He was hardly surprised, admittedly, to hear of the amount of splendor that had surrounded his death, his own funeral was one he had heard of in passing from travelers early in his supernatural life - even now it still held the record for the most extravagant burial to date. He knew, of course, that his tomb had been in Egypt, in the very Alexandria he had founded, like so many others. What surprised him, however, was that a body existed within that gilded coffin. Surely they had known it wasn't him? Hadn't they? Unless his own maker had left a body in his place - such consideration was one he had never asked but a hypothesis he continued to find himself contemplating all the same over the years.

Alexander's attention hardly lingered upon those internal thoughts, however, there would be time later to break apart this moment into every single minute piece, to pick apart her words and draw his own conclusions. What was required of him now, however, was attentiveness. And how very vigilant Alexander was, listening to every syllable she uttered, even as she admitted how many secrets she had once shared with him, or rather, what she had thought to be his corpse. A soft chuckle reverberated upon the Hunter's lips, even as he admitted he might like to hear such secrets, should she wish to share them again with the man himself. How much time she must have spent within those golden walls if he had been her secret keeper! Cleopatra, however, hardly seemed inclined to revisit those past secrets she'd once shared, the woman's words so carefully dancing away from the topic even in spite of that near charming simper he had provided her with. It was her admittance that she had hardly been immune to his charm that caused an almost boyish simper to flutter across the King's features, her Greek was a perfect rendition of his native tongue. The oceanic hue of his gaze briefly met the warmth of her own irises as he offered her a response, his Greek still immaculate, even if he so rarely used it these days as Alexander insisted he was glad that Cleopatra hardly seemed immune to him, even in the present moment.

It might have seemed presumptuous of him to assume such feelings persisted but the Dark Hunter was hardly oblivious to the way she peered up at him over the edge of her glass, consistently watching his every movement while placing her feminine figure on display. Such was not the actions of a woman who did not want to be appreciated - and Alexander had little qualms in enjoying what was offered to him. His brow rose ever so slightly at her response and yet how it so confirmed the lingering affections she held. He had not been wrong - though Alexander so rarely was, to begin with. "Boreíte na to akoúsete óso sychná thélete." (You may hear it as often as you like.) He was well aware of the way her gaze seemed to linger, Alexander rather certain that she hardly desired to hear her name upon his lips in the present casual conversation. He watched as she shifted, placing her glass upon the side table before she turned her attention back towards him. The Dark Hunter's brow furrowed ever so slightly as Cleopatra so abruptly shifted the topic at hand, the woman commenting of how she disliked spending her time wondering what could have been. It was a luxury that Alexander himself had never been afforded when his mind made it so easy to trap him in the past. Such weakness was not one the King spoke of often, however, the Macedonian instead inclined to that patience silence as he allowed Cleopatra to continue with the thoughts that so clearly weighed heavily upon her mind.

He watched as her slender fingers reached out to trace the fabric of her dress, the action so clearly meant to draw his eye towards her body as she made a seemingly simple request of him. His thoughts...of a hypothetical? It was...odd timing, to say the least, and yet Alexander was willing to see where this query took them both. The blue-green of his gaze shifted from Cleopatra's hand and towards her exotic features, his head bobbed ever so slightly in agreement. "Do continue." He prompted her onwards as he brought the glass of wine to his lips.