[hr][hr][center][h1][color=9e0b0f][b]Российский императорский цирк[/b][/color][/h1][/center] [center][color=9e0b0f][b](Russian Imperial Circus)[/b][/color][/center] [hr][hr] The Baron Alexandrov walked upon heavy steps, his hands resting upon a pair of masterfully worked Russian sabers at his belt. His long, silver hair hung freely, framing a face of smouldering, venerable authority as he issued commands in the Rusyn tongue, apparent only to those who had been brought up in the Circus. His people got to work in the same way they usually did: with music and singing and celebration. The songs served as much of an indicator as to what they needed to do, enough that a performer just arriving back from London proper could hear the music and instantly know where they needed to fall in line. While the rest of the Circus fell into a flurry of activity, getting things together for a potentially quick exit, the two guards assigned to Thalken looked to each other in a knowing fashion as the man exited the stall and began shuffling toward the exit of the canvas and wood structure. One looked to the other, cleared his throat, and addressed the Londoner. "Um, excuse? Doing something vith pant full ov shits? You can give to washers, but for please, knock chunks out before, da?" [hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=firebrick]Vladimir Alexandrov[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/3068ada6-2525-4e47-b1a8-14d98dfb6177.jpg[/img][h3][color=firebrick][b][i]"[u]The Great Bazhooli[/u]"[/i][/b][/color][/h3][/center][hr][hr][center][color=firebrick][b]Location:[/b][/color] Russian Imperial Circus (Regent's Park), Outside of Veta's Tent [color=firebrick][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [i]Fal'shbort[/i] (Passive), [i]Tretiy Glaz[/i] (Passive), English, Sleight of Hand [/center][hr] The look of utter satisfaction and hope started to fade from Vladimir's face as he began to wonder, and very near wonder out loud, exactly what this German fellow was jabbering about precisely. Maybe he wasn't understanding it the way it was being explained, in in fact there was an explanation underway. Nonetheless, he was bound and determined to maintain his positive outlook on this. Ludwig knew something. Even if Vlad could not understand, he knew something very, very useful. Plus, he was an ally now. There had to be at least a modicum of trust. Vlad hoped, anyway. The images that Ludwig showed him were fantastic. Amazing, really. It had to be one of the skills passed down along his Trained skill set, though he would never have guessed it a possible thing. Objectively, there was a whole world outside of the Russian Empire that had no idea that his Circus had people capable of healing traumatic wounds and empathic communication with giant, white bears. There was much they all had to learn about each other, especially those Trained folk who were rejected time and time again by the Graveolase. Vladimir spoke at a whisper, at least for as long as a man like himself was capable. [color=firebrick]"You are saying to me... Vall opens? Entire vall opens? Ve move entire of Circus at once! Ha!"[/color] Well, he tried. Vlad fixed his very tall hat firmly upon his head and gave his left had a quick flourish, producing a blade seemingly from nowhere which he then began to spin about in his fingers, up the row of four, pivot at the thumb, and back down again. This action continued as he mused over his options, absently. [color=firebrick]"Helps Great Bazhooli for thinking... Now, ve have vay out. Can close, da? Ve do not vant city overrun... but have vay out. Now. NOW! Needing to know vhere they go."[/color] He looked to Constantin, [color=firebrick]"Constantin! You have vision, da? Scotland is large place. Large place and far from here. Vas there anything in vision that might make options smaller?"[/color] They were going to need to investigate this more. Especially this secondary way out of London, if they had time to get out that way. [hr][hr][center][h1][color=c0c0c0][i][b]Sister Mary Ignatia Hale[/b][/i][/color][/h1][/center] [center][img]http://image.phimmoi.net/profile/356/medium.jpg[/img] [sub][color=c0c0c0]"In that day their strong cities will be like forsaken places in the forest; And the land will be a desolation." -Isaiah 17:9[/color][/sub] [hr][color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] Nottingham [color=c0c0c0][b]Skills:[/b][/color] N/A [/center][hr][hr] Mary gave a small smile as Elizaveta agreed to allow her to practice the Vatican's own version of Trained healing upon her great white tiger, Myshka. The young Apostolic seemed to be doing that a lot around these two; smiling as a normal woman of her age might. But she knew that none of the three were particularly normal. On that day and many others, it was a blessing. She concluded that it was indeed a grand, grand thing to have friends. Other women who understood her in a way that society could not. And the devil take a care about the differences between them. She believed it was put best in Colossians, stating, [i]"In that renewal there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all and in all."[/i] Mary imagined that the spirit of the scripture would extend to include Russian Orthodox and Crypts of indeterminate religious upbringing, and so resolved to act in accordance to those principles. The conversation inside with the table near them caught Mary with some surprise. She had not expected a clue like that to land into their laps so suddenly. Perhaps a higher power was looking out for them, or at least led to the meeting of their two groups that information of a pertinent nature could be passed along. Her eyes passed a silent congratulations to Virginia, asking a question that had nothing to do with their present mission but the answers therefrom may bear fruitful news. And indeed, they were rewarded. Cold. Fire. Town under siege. Mary leaned in closer to the other two women at her table and intoned, [color=c0c0c0]"A soul-chilling cold took Almack's Assembly Rooms as the attack was mounted. I could see nothing, but some manner of invisible force seemed to squeeze the life from Lord Buckingham as the chill intensified."[/color] Not to mention that it all went down the moment that Lord Rutherford stepped out of the room, protesting too much at Mary's assertion that there were Soulless hiding among the Soulled that evening. She looked gravely at her two companions, advising, [color=c0c0c0]"Manchester is along the way to Gretna. I might advise we take that route, perhaps have more opportunity to speak with persons fleeing south on the way. Perhaps someone dressed in scorched finery might know more about the events and the people at Heaton Hall."[/color] Mary gave a quick glance around the common room, if just to see if anyone fit the description she had just given.