South

The southern part of the city has a chic family-oriented sort of charm to it. Here, small locally owned shops run rampant, neighbors often know each other by name, and the monthly socials are an event not to be missed. In the South, children can often be seen safely playing in the park or on sidewalks and in the weekends, families often take to the beach to enjoy the warm waters surrounding the city.

What You'll Find Here

Ascension Center of Equitation
Hyde Park
Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium
The Outskirts
The University of Sacrosanct

Ascension Center of Equitation

The Ascension Center of Equitation is the epicenter of the Dark Hunter Cavalry Unit. Originally a high-class facility for show-jumping, Ascension now caters entirely to the Cavalry Unit. Here the Dark Hunters learn how to ride and fight upon the backs of horses - many of which are Were's themselves.
Home of: The Cavalry

Hyde Park

Hyde Place takes up a large part of the Southern side of the city and includes a large playground, several fountains, and a small garden. The park is open from five in the morning till midnight though many shady characters may visit this place while it's technically "closed". The park has also been a venue for several concerts and hosts many holiday-related events. Under a full moon, witches are often seen here for the sacred ground beneath the iconic Weeping Beech.

Point Defiance Zoo and Aquarium

The Point Defiance Zoo & Aquarium (PDZA) is an award-winning combined zoo and aquarium located within the Southern Part of Sacrosanct. Situated on 92 acres in Sacrosanct's Hyde Park, the zoo and aquarium are home to over 9,000 specimens representing 367 animal species. Point Defiance is also widely known for its conversation efforts regarding the breed and release program of Red Wolves.

The Outskirts

Beyond the city limits and over the bridge lies the deep, dark, and almost impenetrable forest. Often seen as a way to guard this magical city against the world that surrounds it, many are entirely ignorant of the evil that may creep between those tree trunks. Many were-creatures use the forest for the transformations of their newest members and some even take to hunting here. It isn't particularly peculiar for people to go missing within this forest but once you get through, the rest of the world awaits.

The University of Sacrosanct

The University of Sacrosanct offers some of the top programs in the nation with its outstanding campus and specialized faculty. The University places a high focus both upon educating future generations but also on research to help revolutionize the world. The University welcomes the talent of students across the world to enroll and unlock their unlimited potential. With applications from across the nation, classes fill up quickly.

PhD in Plant Biology Abigail Hughes

b i t e the hand that feeds you; ILIANA


Posted on November 18, 2018 by COBAIN
South



Dead heart does not thrum within his chest. The raven haired pale boy sits in the confines of his room, waiting for the sun to set and he could leave this God forsaken place. If Cobain thought of his past life no doubt the pale boy would miss the touch of sunlight on his face, but the heartless bastard merely casts those red wine eyes upwards as he tries to not let his hatred entirely consume him. He would need to think straight if he was going to get himself some food outside of Syn this evening. The obsidian haired boy finally decides to leave the confines of his room, though this does not cause any sort of happiness to enter his heart, only violent contempt as he stares at all the club goers, his default setting. They cheer and roar in delight at the music, the entertainment, the drinks and he tries to imagine it as cries of agony. Pain. The same pain Cobain has felt, the same pain he inflicted on his victims as they cried out for some sort of remorse towards his mistress and her headhunter. But Cobain never cared, all he wanted was the metallic taste of blood on his tongue as he ripped into them. Those red eyes desired nothing but to see the light leave his victim's eyes, sending them straight to hell where Cobain would no doubt one day join them.

He has wondered in his immortality, perhaps, if a vampire other than his mistress had rescued him that day and created him into the little demon boy he was now, how his life may have turned out. If he had a different maker who didn't use such a bond to their advantage. Regardless, Cobain knows if he had not been changed he no doubt would have died at the hand of his father, there had been no escaping death on that particular evening. But what would have happened has Risque not created her minion, well, the truth is entirely uncertain. Maybe he would be happier.

But then again, maybe not.

The hell boy picks up a soccer ball off the ground, no about left here by a previous resident, for Cobain surely did not lug a ball around with him every where. As he lays on his bed he begins tossing the ball up and down, catching it with each fall, only to press it forward again with those long fingers of his. He was so tired of living as a prisoner of the sun, stuck within this close of a proximity to his mistress was some sort of new form of torture. Why she insisted on Cobain remaining in Sacrosanct was beyond him when he could (not that he had a choice) be of use to her else where. As much as he hated his nomadic lifestyle and running errands for his misters, he despised this sense of stillness even more. Crimson eyes close for a moment, or what he believes to be but a moment. But then, as he reopens those hungry eyes, he sees the time and realizes so much of it has passed. The sun most likely having set by now. He rises from the bed and dares to peel back the heavy, sun blocking curtain, but red eyes meet only darkness and moonlight. Perfect.

He slips from his room, he can already tell that Syn is filling up and if he doesn't leave soon no doubt he will have endure another night in the club or Risque would send him on another ridiculous errand that Cobain would have no choice but to take part in. So in a rare moment of rebellion he practically vanishes through the front door, those red eyes an indication of what he would be seeking this evening, the only thing on his mind other than rage and hatred: blood.

He is bored, he wants to do something, to eat, destroy, kill. He clings to his shadows, where he feels most comfortable, an unseen villain in the darkness of Sancro. He just knows he has to leave Syn, despite the accumulation of his own kind there. Cobain has never never been impressed by the gathering of misfits that Risque calls her own. He hates them just as much as he hates himself. He is a contradicting child, acne even though he walks like a teenager, he walks with a deafening amount of presence, succumbed with pain, and boiling with hatred. He plans to put as much space between himself and Syn as possible. He feels that undeniable urge to feast, the strange and epic hatred consumes his mind. Cobain it would seem is at his most dangerous.

He is hatred in its purest form.

Even away from Syn he feels that familiar resentment towards Risque, his mistress, the creature that had brought him back from his eternal hell, only to be thrown back into the weak body his father had consistently abused, but with hidden powers this time around. But despite all the disdain he held for his mistress he did not dare disobey his maker. Besides, he may still be within the confines of that pathetic body, but this time he was indestructible, nothing could touch him.

Nothing would want to.
He was a monster now.

He arrives in the southern part of town. There were campers here this evening, no doubt family weekends being spent within the confines of the trees. He comes to rest beside a large pine tree, a hundred or so feet away from a couple trying to build a fire. It was just the two of them and they looked delicious. Red eyes watch with careful interest, waiting for the opportunity to strike.

Despite being bound to Risque and Syn, he was free to create his own havoc as long as it didn't interfere with her plans or plots, create his own destruction. And tonight that is what he felt like doing, tearing this world apart one by one. Ripping it to shreds.

Just because he could.
COBAIN DALCA
image by Maaike Nienhuis

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