[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=556B2F]Thalken Talink[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://media.giphy.com/media/2xPJ9k8Ku6YLnIS5he/giphy.gif[/img][/center][center][I][h3][color=556B2F]The only way I'm leavin' is dead
That's the state of my, state of my, state of my head

[/color][/h3][/I][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gvNUiMjuhVE][color=556B2F]- [I]"State of My Mind" by Shinedown[/I][/color][/url][/center]
[hr][hr][center][b][color=556B2F]Location:[/color][/b] Russian Imperial Circus Tent City (Regent's Park) - Stables
[b][color=556B2F]Skills:[/color][/b] None currently
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	It was a perplexing matter, the state of Thalken's head right then. His head was killing him, and yet somehow, he still felt entirely numb to the world. He was without a care in the world, making him seem more aloof than usual. His mind was mostly blank. There was no planning, no plotting, no brooding, just dullness. He knew how he had made it to this moment, but he didn't know where he was going from here. He didn't know if any of this was even truly worth it. But if there was one thing he did know, it was this. He had no home because he disowned the Talink name. Despite how much he despised feeling like a prisoner, this was probably the best place for him to be right now. The Russian circus folk would keep him in line, and in the meantime, his father couldn't touch him here. It was a win-win situation. So, why did he feel so depressed? Maybe it was because he felt that he lacked any purpose anymore. If he wasn't a Talink, then what was he?

	His hand holding a piece of bread paused in midair on its way to his mouth when the guard's words hit his ears. His head slowly pivoted in their direction to stare them down for a moment with this cold, unblinking gaze. He cocked his head to the side slightly. They weren't going to keep him hostage in this stall. [I]Hmmm, interesting.[/I] He turned back to his food and quickly finished eating. He downed the rest of the goat's milk then set mug down before brushing off his hands and getting back up onto his feet. He felt a little better having something in his stomach now, but it did little for the pounding in his head. He rubbed his head and glanced around before stiffly shuffling out of the stall. He glanced over at the guards, gauging their reaction, before making his way past them in the direction of the nearest exit. He didn't really have any particular place in mind to go, but surely anywhere would be better than just staying in the stables. As far as talking to someone, well, he wasn't in a talking mood right now, and whatever resolve he had to talk to the Lady Crypt had long since fled. Besides, the Tent City seemed secure enough to keep out the likes of his father. Her and the young viscount James should be safe here, and any "help" he could give would surely just be a hindrance. So, you could say that Thalken was moving on, or at least he was trying to. We'll see how long that lasts.
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[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=DC143C]Fyror Kildragon[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/c08e11f7-3cfd-47ba-8929-88361f1112d2.gif[/img][/center][center][I][h3][color=DC143C]No, if they tried to take her from him, 
he'd rip the world apart with his bare hands.
And for some reason, that didn't terrify him.
[/color][/h3][/I][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x5GuBa4Bbnw][color=DC143C]- [I]"Running Up That Hill" by Placebo[/I][/color][/url][/center]
[hr][hr][center][b][color=DC143C]Location:[/color][/b] Manchester, England 
[b][color=DC143C]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A
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	Fyror gave the woman another small smile when she accepted his offer and was willing to tell them about this attack. He nodded his head in appreciation and gestured for her to follow them. He listened intently to what she had to say, his mouth set in a hard line as she recounted the graphic details. His gaze took in her features for a moment, noting with interest that she seemed relatively unfazed by all the death and mayhem. Perhaps it wasn't the first time she had looked death in the eye, or perhaps she was just good at hiding her emotions. Whatever the case, it said a lot about her character, that she was out here trying to help people despite whatever tramua she herself might have endured. In the end, he respected her more for it.

	However, he seemed to sort of stop in his tracks when the conversation took an unexpected turn. Perhaps he should have felt a sense of relief that Lord Rutherford and Millicent had been spotted in Manchester as recently as last night, yet instead he held his breath. Surely there was a catch. And how right he was. His jaw clenched when she mentioned that they had taken a ship, and he quickly looked away as the rest of his features hardened. There was a tense silence that pervaded him as they walked the rest of the way to the nearby church. He felt a sense of outrage once again bubbling up to the surface, and yet, this change of course did little to sway his resolve. No, he would follow through--or die trying. 

	As such, Gerard's words brought about a feeling of stunned disbelief from Fyror. Disbelief, and perhaps anger. His head whipped around to look at him with a wide disbelieving gaze. [i]He was just going to give up?! Just like that. Just because things got tough. Millicent deserved much better that.[/i] His jaw clenched and unclenched as he tried to choose his words carefully lest he snap the man's head off. [color=DC143C]"Well, I'm not about to turn back now. Do what you must, but I'm going to follow this through to the end,"[/color] he finally stated, albeit a bit tersely. He then turned back to Colette. [color=DC143C]"Are you alright from here m'lady? If so, then I have a ship to catch."[/color]