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.

all the promises i've made, just to let you down


Posted on May 21, 2022 by isolt marcello
Residences

isolt marcello

I'm more alive than I've ever been


The man before her had been a great many things in the years that they had known one another, the myriad roles into which he had assimilated proving motley and many- stranger, friend, teacher, savior, confidant, lover... mate. They had grown with one another, the threads of their individual journeys woven together into a tapestry depicting a story unlike anything either of them could have dreamt during that first meeting amidst the throng of a crowded concert venue.

He had been a great many things to her, but an enemy he had never been.

Until now.

Now he was the person who found himself situated between a mother and the child that had been taken from her, the crosshairs of her ire placed firmly upon him. He was the person who had, in her very lowest moment, sought to obliterate all memory, all traces, of their daughter. He had sought to feed upon her weakness like a ravenous scavenger, bloodthirsty and merciless. And, after this most heinous transgression, he still manages to summon the gall to bear the spires of his fangs to her. Whether or not he plans to use them against his wife was of no consideration to the raging woman, the plush cushion of her upper lip peeling back even further to reveal the true length of her own ivory pins. A dare. A challenge.

The inferno of her own ire sees her momentarily blinded, her mate's heartfelt sentiments and cresting tears doing naught to dissuade her in these few tremulous moments, the blood-bare bulbs of her knuckles twisting still further into the already-stressed fabric of his shirt. There are a few moments of heavy, gut-roiling silence that pass between the two opposing vampires in the wake of his imploration as if the very walls themselves consumed his words. And then the vice-like grip of her fingers slowly begins to slacken, her features releasing from the pinched facade of her fury. His questions, she realizes, have no answers. He seeks reason where there is none to be had, prods for resolution where little exists. The realization is a hefty one, Isolt simply allowing her head to fall to rest against her lover's chest, the ruby tendrils of tears almost instantly creating crimson blossoms upon his shirt. A long moment passes between them before she whispers into his chest. "I don't know. I don't know what to do, Damon."

She dissolves then into a fit of sobbing that sends her entire body trembling as she leans more so into the remarkably solid frame of her husband. She nearly chokes on her next words. "I just want to be her mother. I don't want her to be alone... I don't want her to be afraid." It is all that he shall receive in the way of justification, distorted and unintelligible as it might very well have been. How was she possibly to force understanding unto him when she herself could not rightly discern why the presence of her daughter beyond the veil of mortal life called to her in such a forceful manner? It was beyond both of them, this maternal yearning, and so the redheaded vampire can do little more than rest against the chest of her lover and allow her eyes to fall to a close.

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