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Thalken didn't even bother to hold back a groan when he heard someone call him back yet again and call him by a name that wasn't his yet again. When he turned around to face Constantin head on, this time around he kept his composure, and by composure I mean he glared at the man. You know, the usual."Thalken. My name is Thalken," he retorted gruffly. "Now, what do you want?"

He crossed his arms over his chest as his dark eyes narrowed on the man. It was clear as day that Constantin didn't like him, and as far as Thalken was concerned, the feeling was mutual. Sure, he did vomit all over the man, but kicking him in the stomach hard to enough to catapult several feet away and to cause him to--yeah, he wasn't going to finish that thought. The memory was just too fresh and cringeworthy. Now, the point of the matter was that for his "suffering" Constantin owed him big time. Yes, he was quite possibly going to be that petty.

But for now, he supposed he would answer all of these stupid questions that he kept being bombarded with for some unknown reason. Green flag with a stag? He rolled his eyes at the question. "It's one of the flags for the city of Nottingham," he replied a bit tersely. "Now, what are all these stupid questions even about? Are you searching for someone?" Not that I really care, he thought but decided to leave that part out. Perhaps though the fact that he was even questioning any of it all, let alone obliging their requests, said deep down a small part of him did care. Nah, probably not.

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Fyror's gaze softened further at Colette's response, and he managed to give her a small reassuring smile. "It's alright. No harm done. It was food for thought, really," he murmured in response, before glancing out the window at the passing scenery. At this time, they were finally nearing the port town of Preston.

He looked back over at Colette, his brows furrowing and a frown tugging down at his features. He shook his head. "A man shouldn't have to have a reason to treat a woman with respect," he replied. He, of course, earnestly and wholeheartedly believed in what he said, and he tried his upmost to live up to those standards. Granted, he also wasn't naïve enough to believe that every man thought the same way or tried to live in the same manner. Lord Rutherford was proof enough that that was not the case. A part of him wondered if Miss Fontaine had encountered such ungentlemanly men, and if she had, well, he honestly felt sorry on their behalves. At the end of the day, he was raised to treat women with respect, no matter what their social standing was.

Fyror looked back out the window as he felt the carriage come to a grinding halt. His lips thinned slightly at seeing how cram packed Preston was, and he silently prayed that it wouldn't cause them much delay. He looked back over at Colette, nodding his head in agreement. He was about to get up to open the door for her and help her out of the carriage, but the woman was already two steps ahead of him. He looked down in an attempt to hide the small, amused smile that came to his features. He had to admit that he admired an independent woman. Perhaps that was why he had felt a fondness for Ms. Wyndham in the first place. She had seemed so strong-willed and independent, at least perhaps until now. What had Lord Rutherford done to her to cause her to lose her fire?

The smile quickly slipped from Fyror's features as he exited the carriage, and it was replaced by the sternness of a man on a mission. And that he was, a man on a mission. His perceptive gaze took everything in with a quick sweeping glance before looking back at Colette. He nodded his head and then gestured for her to follow him. "Come along, Miss Fontaine. Let's make haste for the harbor. The sooner we can acquire a ship, the sooner we can hope to catch up to Lord Rutherford and Miss Wyndham," he exclaimed. He then began to weave through the crowds, He eventually decided to offer Colette his arm for fear of losing her in the hustle and bustle of the port.

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There was a decent amount of hope that Constantin would be able to discern the meaning of the latest Tretiy Glaz image by means of the general knowledge possessed by just about every socially astute Englishman. The problem was, Vlad was most assuredly not a socially astute Englishman. Oh, Vladimir Alexandrov was a very social man, no doubt. And astute? You might as well give him an advanced degree in the Astutely Sciences. But the lynchpin that threw it all together was English. While he spoke the language passably, neither he nor his associates, not a one, knew anything about this country that was useful to them at present. But they had a location to travel toward. Gretna Green, just over the border in Scotland.

Vlad had caught sight of his father, The Baron Alexandrov, overseeing the breakdown of his personal tent not terribly far from Vladimir's own. It was an impressive temporary structure, used for business and entertaining guests as much as it was an opulent place to hang one's knives. He was just about to call out for the elder Alexandrov when someone inconveniently reappeared. Vladimir attempted to summarize the situation quickly, then hop back on task. "Friend Ludvig!" he called aloud, speaking as if he was an old acquaintance that he hadn't seen in years. "There you are being, Ludvig! Of course, is vith happy heart I am seeing you. You! Ve are going to the Gretna Greens, in Land of Scots, da? Da. Almost time for going."

"Vorry not about tent! Vell, vorry little. Tent is packed avay. I have vardo, but vill not be room for all. Ve must find places for you and for little Adam. Crypt boy vill stay vith me. Maybe can find cart vith roof, put ...гамак... eh, hammocks! Da, hammocks up - just for now." He nodded his head vigorously, then intoned with seriousness, "Trunk in baggage cart now." He pointed to a nearby load-bearing cart, probably originality built for merchants or theor ilk. "Take vith only what is needed, only vhat can travel vith. Fight vith. Okay? Okay."

Located The Baron, but not the Viktor. On we go.

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Mary noted the stirring of Elizaveta, but did not respond other than a quiet look in her direction. They had not been in their private room for very long, in Mary's reckoning, but the plan was not to linger in any one place for any substantial length of time. After all, this was a chase. Such things would be counterproductive.

Rather the odd question to Mary, concerning the status of Virginia. Not odd so much because was inappropriate, seeing as it was a highly valid question, just that it was about a skill set that was foreign to her personal experience. Mary supposed that it was even more foreign to the Russian noblewoman, and seeing as Mary and Virginia knew one another prior to the lazt gew days' events, it stood to reason that she might have some grasp on the Lady Crypt's abilities. "I could be wrong, Elizaveta, but I believe her spirit is elsewhere. Rousing her now might prove fruitless."

She stood fully and slid her shortsword back into its sheath next to its twin, though kept out her rosary. It swung back and forth from her hand, occasionally catching a shimmer of light as Mary looked down upon her friend expectantly, hoping her journey back to her body was swift and otherwise uneventful.

Kirkpatrick House: The weather was nice enough for a Scottish morning. There was a heavy scent of perfume in the air. Flowers blooming around the house and the wind would catch their scent as the little boy waited for Maeve to exit the carriage.



London: Today we go, today we go, through the wall today we go. Up and down and around and around, today we go. And u it goes, a trunk to the cart. It was all there was, all he had, had. Bad, mad. Not mad, glad. Glad to travel, travel with little, he was little, dieter was little. His ferret not his brother. His brother was big, or was he now? Worm ate, small ate, small make big things smaller. Years go by, by and by, bye bye.

To Gretna Green, green green, lovely green, over the hills and through the woods, to the Green they would go. Go and go, stop and go, that's what makes the world go round. A circus a circus, I love a circus but no circus, boxes and bag and carts and hearts. Large hearts with love. The circus was ready to leave and Ludwig knew the way, he knew the way, it was up, not down, never go town, it just turns you around.

"Go, to the top of the wall and we will dash away, dash away, dash away all!" Ludwig said as his legs moved to and fro hanging of the edge of the cart. Bouncing and ready to move. They would move now, he pointed the way, that way. North towards the wall.

Preston: They city is moving quickly, it seems more and more are talking about going north, trying to out run the attacks. Others are determined to get home and go about their business, saying it will pass. In the docks there are many ships. Most of them are merchant vessels, there is one that is of the Kings Royal Navy. There are smaller ships as well, many charging far more than is normal to take people to other ports. Many of them are nothing more old fishing boats but people will do what they can for a silver.

Nottingham: Veta nodded slightly and checked out the window. They had been there over an hour since she laid down. "Then ve vill viat, vould not do vell to interrupt her. I vill go check on Myska and your horse, make sure ve are ready to go vhen she vakes," Veta said in a soft voice as to not disturb Virginia. Stepping out of the room quietly she shut the door behind her and made her way out of the inn and towards the stables. Time was growing short.

"Dobre, Dobre... Good!" Constantin stated as Thalken replied to him. He took a deep breath and nodded." Alright, Thalken. Good name... better than Talink boy anyways." He muttered as they got the show on the road. It didn't really take long for the man to start speaking as a canary about the flag. Constantin was just nodding and remembering everything and was just about to get a move on it to report to Vlad before he froze in his step, recalling Vlad's other request.

"Okey thank you for the information. Yes sort of... not my place to talk." Constantin stated before shrugging his head. They were going after Veta, but she was searching for that other woman so it was a weird story to talk about, on that it wasn't his job to explain." Look here, The Great Bazhooli has a need of a guide, someone vho's knoving the local things." Constantin stated, looking at Thalken." Vhat vould you say about vorking for the circus as a guide for a vhile? I'm sure ve vill think of something to benefit you in return." He added, thinking that the other man would certainly wouldn't do anything without personal profit.

"Look I don't like you, you obviously do not like me... But I vill prefer a guy vho's obvious to his dislike of me rather than a backstabbing self pleased arrogant piece of... anyhow. Let's just pencil a dislike of locals in general. Once more, I'm sure this vill be a benefitting deal for you too, you can talk about the conditions vith the Bazhooli himself!" He added with grumpy voice.' Because I surely do not want to deal with you any more than it's absolutely needed...' He thought.

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Virginia continued to retrace her steps, until she entered the room at the inn and walked into her body. It was always an interesting experience, to be able to see herself as she was as if in sleep or a trance. It was something that neither a mirror nor a portrait could ever do justice to. After reentering her body, Virginia opened her eyes and slowly rose. "There is talk of a man rushing to ensure a marriage, after the attack at Manchester - and an injured child near death," Virginia summarized. "Whether this is Lord Rutherford...I cannot be sure, yet I feel it is almost too great to be coincidence."

Having said her piece, Virginia rose to her feet and noticed that Elizaveta was no longer in the room. She was always a little fuzzy on how much time had passed when she took her more spiritual walks. She supposed it was a mere effect of her being able to push on further than she would be able to physically in such moments - a trade off of sorts. "Where did Elizaveta go?" she asked Mary, not referring to her as the Grand Duchess in case someone overheard them. She didn't want to reveal what a significant person of nobility was there, just in case it slowed them down.

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Maeve nodded at Lady Kirkpatrick, saying nothing as to her claims that her housing situation would be rectified. She had no doubt that Lady Kirkpatrick was capable of such a feat, just from her talks. She had people of all levels indebted to her and in many ways, she reminded her of some of the most fearsome gang members her brother in law, Seamus, had spoken of. The nephew was not endeared to Maeve at all. From the way Lady Kirkpatrick had described him, he was lacking in wits. However, the little boy - the grandnephew - tugged at her heartstrings. She had never been away from Roisin for such a great length of time and she missed her daughter dearly.

"Of course, m'lord. it wud be me 'onor," Maeve said kindly, letting the little boy help her out of the carriage. She didn't doubt that her deception and act may have slipped for a moment, but the child was so young and sweet. He had to be about Roisin's age and Maeve couldn't help but smile. "I'm called Miss O'Connor, m'lord," Maeve introduced herself, giving the boy a courtesy once she was out of the carriage. She caught the hint of perfume in the air and couldn't help but be curious as to its source. An amused smirk reached her lips as she considered as to whether it was Lady Kirkpatrick's nephew.

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"Dearest Colette,

Greetings from University! I have settled in nicely and have enjoyed pursuing an education here. I have no doubt that you would find all of this tedious and boring, but I assure you that even you would enjoy yourself here. But I have no doubt you are entertaining yourself. Mother and Father have sent word to me that you are off on your own in England. I daresay, I am proud! How you managed to get Father to allow that, I will never know. You will have to tell me your secret!

I have met another gentleman here by the name of Charles and we have gotten along swimmingly. He is the first friend I have made here. YHis family is not well off, but they pulled whatever resources they had to send him to University. He has such interesting stories! I find myself staying awake until early in the morning just listening to him. I think you two would enjoy meeting. Perhaps if you ever come to visit, I'll introduce you.

I look forward to hearing from you. I will send this to Father in the hopes he replies with your actual address, otherwise, I will continue to pester him with these until he does. Do keep yourself safe, though I know you can take care of yourself.

Yours truly,

Leon.

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Colette was unsure whether or not to accept the arm of a man she had only just met, but still, she felt the man could be trusted. He seemed genuine in his responses to her questions. He answered her questions, also. So she took his arm. Not only would it show others that the two were traveling together, but it would hopefully deter any other unwanted attention.

"There seem to be a lot of people aiming to leave. I imagine it has to do with the attack. I hope we will be able to find passage on a ship, though I fear we may either be clustered with others or have to pay a large amount. Do you have a preference of travel means, Monsieur Kildragon?" She, of course, did not mind. She just wanted to be off and on her way of rescuing her friend.

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Thalken didn't seem terribly amused by Constantin's passing comment that his real name was better than the "name" of Talink boy. Nevertheless, at least it seemed that that particular situation was hopefully resolved. You certainly knew your life was messed up when your own surname brought about a sense of utter revulsion within you, but it seemed that that was what his life had come down to. He was disgusted by his family's nefarious actions as well as his own actions. The sooner he could distance himself from the Talink name and their ways, the sooner he could become someone else, someone better.

His eyes narrowed even more when he was denied his request for information regarding these strange questions. It was clear that they were trying to hide something from him. He supposed it was for good reason, but regardless, it still made him a touch suspicious. The nefarious and cunning side of him wanted to take matters into his own hands and do a little "digging" of his own, you know, of the more unorthodox sort. But, he restrained himself from doing so, reminding himself that he was a changed man. Well, correction, he was a man trying to change. However, all his brooding and self-reflection came to an abrupt standstill at Constantin's next words.

Thalken's eyes widened, and he went a bit slack jawed when he was offered a job(?!) He shook his head in disbelief. "Come again?" he questioned, brows furrowing. A big part of him thought that Constantin must surely be joking with him, but the fact that he brought up payment and conditions proved otherwise. His brows relaxed slightly as he let that sink in. He was actually being offered a job, more specifically a job that didn't involve killing or harming someone? Wow. It really should have been like a dream come true for him, so why was he filled with such apprehension? Well, one could say that defying one's own nature in and of itself was frightening, let alone the notion of how that would inevitably change one's future. So, in other words, you could say that right then the big unknown ahead of him was a bit terrifying. "Uh, sure?" he finally stated, albeit reluctantly.

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Admist trying to navigate through the hordes of people, Fyror would take quick glances out at the harbor. He noted the appearance of a decent variety of vessels, including merchant ships, smaller boats looking for a quick buck, and even the King's Royal Navy. As he weaved their way through the crowds, he internally deliberated what would be the best option, or more importantly, what would be the easiest for them to gain access to. He glanced down at Colette as her words penetrated his thoughts. His lips thinned before he nodded his head grimly at her words.

"Unfortunately," he commented with a sigh, before answering her question frankly. "I think my preference matters not. We must go with the most realistic option, even if it's not the most ideal. The King's Royal Navy will surely turn us down. Perhaps we could negotiate, or pay, our way into getting a spot on a merchant vessel, but I fear that the time that negotiations will take will only leave us farther behind. However, at the same time though, those ships are built more for speed than the smaller vessels out there. Perhaps we should risk it. What say you?"

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The Baron was looking a touch more resplendent than usual, for one who was getting ready to commit himself and the entirety of the Barony in London to hard and fast road travel. It was not uncommon for the Circus to pack up and leave unexpectedly, though it usually occurred when they received word of unusual Soulless activity elsewhere in their Empire. Be it unexpected, they were very, very good at this. Vladimir still marveled at the efficiency with which his people could pack up and get the hell out of a location; like nobody else in the world as far as he could tell.

Approaching his father, The Baron, Vlad seemed to heighten his spirits. "Baron! My Baron..." Formality was not necessary, really, but any respect given in front of others was guaranteed to be returned in kind. "Ve have destination, Baron Alexandrov, eh..." his slowed down, so as to better enunciate the name of the town, "Gretna Green, local Talink calls it. North into Land of Scots, just over border. Is more, but Gretna is vhere ve must go. German man Ludvig knows how to get through Jericho Valls."

"...also..." his face darkened a little. Asking his father for special concession was not something he liked doing, especially if that concession was for those not of the Bazhooli Sem'ya. "...ve will need others to travel vith us for vhile. Ludvig, trains boy Scary Catholic Girl save-ed. Also Talink boy. Maybe is good hostage, maybe is good guide. Maybe ve use feed bears. But for now, need place for sleeping, both." The children were guaranteed a spot with the Sem'ya, which was simple enough to arrange with their resources, but the grown men were not. A brief but memorable negotiation ensued in overly formal Russian, involving mush in the way of arm waving and what appeared to be knifepoint threats back and forth. It was the way certain things were done among these people, and it drew the vaguely amused attention of the less busy members of the Circus around them.

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The fiery Dame Commander would have found herself guilty of Bearing False Witness were she to say she was not relieved when Virginia opened her eyes and spoke to her. As the young Lady Crypt rose from her trance, so did Mary, offering a hand up if necessary. She held any questions she might have had concerning Virginia's spiritual jaunt until her friend offered it of her own accord. Even then, Mary waited patiently until she was done. Reflecting upon her words, the idea of a child near death tugged immediately upon her sense of compassion, one of the Knightly virtues, but concepts like practicality and justice prevented her immediate insistence that they rush off to the child's aid or otherwise abandon their quest.

"Be it in the plan of the Almighty, I would help the child, Virginia. And in times such as this, I do not put heavy confidence in 'coincidence', either." She hung her rosary down at her side, still wrapped loosely around her wrist. She then cleared her throat and addressed the query asked of her, "Elizaveta is downstairs checking on our beasts. We really should be on our way in a little while, ourselves."

She gave a second or two of thought, and posed a question of her own: "Would you mind terribly if I took the liberty of blessing your axes, Virginia? I know you are not Catholic, but I also know that you are a decent and true soul. Our need is great, and we are riding into the aftermath of yet another Soulless attack. We need not do so now - time does grow short."

Kirkpatrick House: Charles helps Maeve out of the carriage and smiles at her. "Yes Miss O'Connor." His voice is bright as he speaks.

"Charles, show the lass to her room, she will be taking the servants quarters next to mine," Sally states frankly and Charles giggles.

"Okay Auntie!" he says even more brightly than before, he looks so excited to be given a task by his aunt.

"Pardon?" she quips as her eyes narrow.

"I mean, yes Aunt Sally," he said the brightness dimming somewhat as he starts to trudge towards the house. "This way."

Sally takes a breath and shakes her head before looking over at Thomas. "Now Aunt Sally, how was the trip?"

"I went with low expectations and came back disappointed," she said as she eyes Maeve. It seemed to be a poke towards the girl but there was something in Sallies eyes for a split second that spoke volumes, there was a reason why she was saying this.



London: Everything is packed and so we are moving out. The circus is moving north, Ludwigs wagon is at the front. It might seem odd to many of the members of the Circus but he is the only one to know where to go. The circus will leave Regents park. It isn't far from Regents park to the actual wall and it being the northwest side of London. The walls are high (30 feet) and thick (20 feet) but the section where the circus stops in front of looks different. One cannot place their finger on it but there is just something different. Very different. Is it thicker? Is it higher than the rest of the wall? Are the towers closer together than elsewhere on the wall? The trees thinner along this line? The grass growing differently? Something is off.

Preston: You have many ships there. The first and closest to you is a Naval one, if you try they turn you down post haste. There just is no getting on that one. The second you approach is a merchant ship but any negotiations are going to be too high. Outrageously high. Third time is a charm. It is a fishing vessel and stinks but the captain is friendly and is heading home. His home is in Port Annan. The dice have smiled on you. The fee is fair, his ship while small is fast, and he is willing to leave within the next ten minutes. (You may take control of the NPCS to make your posts. Board the fishing vessel this round, you leave post next.)

Nottingham: Everything within the Inn seems calm. If one is to look out the window they can see clearly down to the stables across the street. Elizaveta is there with a large slab of meat for Myska, who gobbles it up quickly, licking his chops as he does. She also has some carrots for Mary's stallion and is hand feeding them to him as she looks around. The Grand Duchess glances at the window but she cannot see due to reflections and light. The window just looks dark, as so most of them from the outside. She waves anyways just in case someone looks out before going over to the stable boy to pay him.

Constantin was admittedly not the happiest with the turn of events, but the idea itself was sound enough. This Thalken bastard had the knowledge they needed and he was with them already. He still wasn't liking this person, but work was work and duty towards the circus was before his own personal opinions. As the other person seemed in disbelieve, Constantin bit his lip for a moment in frustration, searching for the words he had to use.” Don't make me repeat myself... It's not like I personally like the idea, but it serves the circus. Now come with me to find the Great Bazhooli.” He explained and waved for the Talink person to follow him.” I still don't like you though...” He added at the end.

Wandering it all it didn't take a experienced tracker to locate Vlad. Constantin sighed and looked at Thalken, displeasure clearly written on his face, but them there was also something else written there. It was the face of someone who was about to get rid of trouble on his hands.” The Bazhooli's in there, you go nov.” He stated and pointed at Vlad's location.” Talk vith him for guide position and possible revards. I have things to do.” He stated and turned on a heel, heading off to help his family with the packing of their tent. There was going to be ample opportunity to pay even more vengeance on Thalken. Probably non lethal one of course. He wasn't a enemy to be killed...for the moment anyways.

Still they packed all the luggage and tents safely away, Constantin made sure to tuck his stage clothes away into a bundle in between the other clothes for maximum safety and he also put his spare saber away with the clothing while he was at it. Better have the spare there in case it's needed later. AS the circus moved away from their camp location and to the wall, something was off. “Vhat's going on here?” He said, his voice filled with suspicion. Something was clearly off with the whole picture, but he for sure couldn't put his hands onto what it was and that was making him nervous.

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Virginia nodded, reflecting on Mary's provided information. It made sense and wasn't anything out of the ordinary, yet she supposed she perhaps had been gone on her walk longer than had been expected. As much as she understood and agreed with the need to save Millicent, but it struck her as rather odd for Mary to make such a suggestion. From what she understood of Mary's belief systems, all life was sacred and none was held above any other. She had expected Mary to wish to save the child - in addition to saving Millicent. Yet she also had to confess that she did not understand much of the Christian religion - just as much as any other Crypt family member did who was raised in European society and culture.

"Yes, I am not a Catholic...And I am not a Christian," Virginia replied, as Mary brought up the subject of blessing her axes. From what she recalled, she was not certain blessing her axes would bring her any added strength in battle. "I am what you would call a pagan - a worshipper of the dark arts and the ways of the wicked," Virginia then explained. She took no offense to those terms and she found their descriptive nature was at times helpful for explaining to the few who broached the subject with her.

"Perhaps another time, I can tell you about my patron deity - the Dark Mother, Veliona, guardian of the dead," Virginia added with a sweet smile. Her eyes caught the window just in time to see Elizaveta wave and she glanced back at Mary, knowing it was time that they left. Their animals had been attended to and time was in short supply. "After you, Mary," Virginia said softly, as she opened the door and beckoned for her dear friend to head out to join Elizaveta first, with Virginia then following afterwards.

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Maeve overheard Lady Kirkpatrick's comment yet she did not allow her face to show any change in emotions, especially having glimpsed the look in Lady Kirkpatrick's eyes. She knew that she had said the phrase for a purpose, stating that subtle jab for some reason and it had given Maeve a moment of emotional pause. Had Lady Kirkpatrick already discovered that she had been sent there to spy upon the family? With someone as cunning and clever as Lady Kirkpatrick (at least claimed to be), she doubted that she would have been simply dismissed. She would have either been made an example of or perhaps asked to spy on the rival Clan in turn.

"Thank ye kindly," Maeve told Charles, giving him a charming smile as she followed after him, carrying her belongings. She figured that she'd be able to reflect on Lady Kirkpatrick's words for a long time before any critical action was taken. Rushing things and jumping to conclusions never helped anyone. This was just a game of cards - she had to read her opponent and figure out the best move to take, nothing more. She had started her life with nothing and ended up joining an influential Irish gang, with a sweet little angel for a daughter. She wasn't about to mess that up right now.

"So m'lord, what sort of t'ings do ya like to do?" Maeve asked, smiling sweetly at the boy as they walked.

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Colette couldn't help but hope that they would not board the smaller vessel. Surely one of the other ships would be welcoming to them? After all, she was part of a higher class of people and maybe Monsieur Kildragon had some royalty in his blood they could use. "How do we know unless we try, yes? That Naval vessel will surely allow us passage if we explain the situation." So they approached the Naval vessel. However, before they could even speak, they were turned down. It seemed they were not the only ones looking for transport. She would be surprised if this ship hadn't been visited by others hoping for travel. "All right, perhaps not. Still, maybe the merchant vessel will be more accommodating."

The second ship seemed a better option anyway. "Excusez-moi? We are hoping for transport on your vessel. How much would it cost?" The merchant may as well have had money signs in his eyes, given the amount of money he asked for. She had barely anything on her and judging from his overall appearance, she wondered if Monsieur Kildragon had any either on him. What was the point of her blood if it didn't get you anywhere?

So, with slow movement, she made her way over to the small vessel. She took in a breath. Maybe it would be....quaint. After all, she was trying to do it on her own. Wouldn't look good if she couldn't handle being transported on such a ship. She walked over to the man. "Pardon us, Monsieur? We are looking for transport and so far have found no one willing to allow us on for a reasonable fee. Is there a way we can travel with you? We will pay, of course." The man eyed the two of them up and down before smiling and nodding. He had barely any teeth left, but he still radiated kindness. "Aye lass. I think I can help ye both out. And I'll do it for a small fee, since yer such a fine lass." The deal was made and the price was fair. Soon, she stepped on board the ship, waiting for travel. It was not the most glamorous, but they were at least on their way.

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It was strange indeed that Ludwig's wagon led the procession of Russian Circus performers. Strange so strange, never stranger, stranger things, unusual things, unusual suspects. The Baron remembered a time when someone other than Circus did this, but it was still fellow Russians (Moldovan actually, but still part of the Empire), and they were acting as guide them toward a hidden Soulless encampment. Ho ho ho, encampment, entrapment, end the mend, mend the end, mend the fence, jump the fence, what a post. Otherwise, this was fully new ground.

A German, specifically one with a touch of madness, would only have led the Circus in the most unusual of circumstances. But not madness, just gladness, no madness, only mad when called mad, madness is a mess, gladness is joy. Oh joy, oh boy. Apparently, the entire Circus leaving in the middle of the Season without so much as a warning, only to escape a London held in the aftermath of a Soulless attack by means of utilizing a hidden passage in what was supposed to be an otherwise impenetrable defensive wall, most definitely counted as an unusual circumstance. "Is this vay, da?" Vladimir asked of Ludwig, and not for the first time.

"Way, way, yes whey, curds and whey, little Miss Muffet, a tuffet, tough isn't it?"

Vladimir and The Baron both flanked the lead wagon, careful to keep an eye out for any potential trouble. To the left to the left to the left right left. The thing was though, there was none. The path they were led down, but a short march from Regent's Park to the questionable section of wall yielded only as much trouble as two members of the Watch could give the might of the Russian Imperial Circus. Double trouble, double mint, anyone have gum? That is to say, negligible. Negligible, negligee, lingerie. Oh nighty night! Breaking off from the rest of the procession's vanguard, both The Baron and The Great Bazhooli chose one guard each and handled them with the best method open to them, circumstances permitting. Circumstances, circumcision, oh vey!

For Vlad himself, he approached his man with open arms and a seemingly unflappable sense of optimism. "Hellos! Many hellos, Guardian of London-Town! Ve are, eh... little bit lost." he said, bringing his thumb and forefinger close together in front of him as to emphasize his point. Yes, a point, pointy pointy, stick and stones, to the point! He stepped closer, drawing upon Tizirovat', a lesser used skill in the Rusyn set. Vladimir's low, raspy voice blended harmoniously with Tizirovat', drawing upon the strength of his indomitable personality to influence the man. "Is okay. Few circus people stopping to ask direction, da? If remember, maybe report tomorrow. Is not important. Vhat is - little farther down Vall. That vay. You might vant to look, you and friend." Vladimir's voice rolled along pleasantly even as he nodded his head, as if in agreement with something the watchman was saying. The pair of them wandered away, leaving the Circus to their own concerns. "Right!" Vlad called to Ludwig, "Vhat now?"

A step of two or three. Two steps forward, one step back and around and around. "To the wall, up the wall, no down the wall. No." To the left of the wall. To the right of the wall. No, no that wasn't it. "Move must move. Press, no push, no pull, no press. No." Press, mess, bless, chess. Chess! Towers, towers, knights, knights guard towers. No... That wasn't it. "Oh yes, yes, chess," with a snap of the fingers and a dip in the hip. Brushing away vines and binds, and stone and carvings. "Sacrifice a pawn to protect the queen," with a punch to the wall and a yelp and an owe from the lips.

Here was the problem, so far as Vladimir saw it: Ludwig made no sense and clear sense at the same time. Clear, crystal clear, crystal, glass, mirror, mirror on the wall. He was confident that the German knew what he was talking about. Or to. Unfortunately, he could not translate the man's jumbled mass of words into anything resembling a coherent thought or idea.

Now, Vladimir did know about Chess though. Not an extremely avid player, but he knew which pieces did what and some basic strategies. So far as this little chesscapade was concerned, his strategy was to mimic the strange man's actions, brushing away visual obstructions and foliage. "Looking for Pawns, da? Pawns or Queens? Am looking for both." As he spoke, he continued his search, pressing and/or moving anything suspicious.

"Find the bishop, man of cloth, cloth man, hide in a tower with the good book, book, rook, in the tower." Back and back, arms out and about point to one stone and then another, the one and then that one, grey and gray, dark and light, black and white. Bare, so bare, the square was bare. No, not bare, it was there. "A battle field! BATTLE!"

Taking a step or three back, Vladimir's curiosity was sated as to what Ludwig was talking about. Proceeding with the analogy of the hour, the section of wall that they had cleared looked very much like a chessboard. A quick overview brought to things to Vlad's attention: 1) Someone had a lot of time on their hands, and 2) There was a piece missing from the board. "Что это?" he asked Ludwig, pointing out the gap. "For sorry. Vhat is that?" Vlad began to step forward, anxious to see if this anomaly was pertinent to their task.

To the wall, to the book, look at the wall, look at the book, back and forth, back and forth, step, step. Tap tap. "Yes, yes!" Jump, close the book and look at the wall. Touch the wall, touch the nothing, feel the nothing, feel the wall. Rough, not smooth but smoother here and wait, rough, smooth rough, in and out, ridge, river, between the river, between the ridge. "Move, move! Save the queen!"

The eyes of The Great Bazhooli lit up as realization dawned upon him - Ludwig was showing him a giant puzzle! Like the toy boxes he would see imported from the Far East, where he did not know the language but had a fondness for the foods therefrom; this was a sliding tile puzzle. Vladimir firmly grasped one of the blocks adjacent to the gap and gave it a slide. It moved, but with effort, as a rusty hinge might. Vladimir began to laugh, "Ha... Ha HA!", thick and hearty as horsemeat gravy in winter. Yes, they were in a hurry, but this... Things like this were the pepper in the soup that was life. Vlad cracked his knuckles, eager to get started.

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Mary gave the slightest look of surprise at Virginia's words, though not at her announcement that she was Pagan. She had assumed something similar. Honestly, she had assumed something more along the lines of ancestor worship. While it bordered along the lines of Necromancy, the concept of venerating one's forebearers wasn't unheard of, even among the Church. But this? This raised an unexpected smile on Mary's face.

Before accepting Virginia's offer to exit their rooms first, she gazed upon the Lady Crypt with solemn honesty. "Virginia, I love you as a sister. You are my friend, my adviser, and I would gladly shed blood at your side. I care not that your faith differs from mine." She gazed at Virginia for a second or two longer, then walked quietly from the room. As she came to the stairs leading down to the common area, Mary glanced behind her, saying, "I should like to know more about your Veliona. Perhaps afterward, I might tell you of St. Gertrude of Helfta, Matron of the Dead. Thuringian nun; you might like her." It truly did not matter that her friend was not Christian. As a member of the Graveolase, indeed now its leader, Mary understood the importance of allying with people of many backgrounds and beliefs. All were children of the Divine. Mary was merely an instrument of His will on Earth. It was not her place to judge.

It occurred to Mary that she still needed to apply her Trained skill of Timyne to Veta's tiger. It was only fair, considering the similar ability that she shared with her horse, Cassius. She traversed the distance across the common room downstairs, stepping out into the light of the Nottingham day. It was about time to get back on the road, and she did hope that their paths would cross with the family, especially the child in need.

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Thalken's gaze narrowed as Constantin dismissed and more or less ridiculed his disbelief. If you had endured a past full of unspeakable violence and hardships like his, you would be in shock too at being so openly offered a mundane job. The remaining shock seemed to evaporate as his features hardened and a dark glint came to his eyes. He crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw clenching and unclenching before he spoke. "Consider the feelings mutual," he retorted gruffly. He wasn't about to even try to act civil if this was how he was going to be treated. Screw that. He held back a sneer as he followed the Russian asshole. And it didn't take them long to locate the The Great Bazhooli, the boisterous man's voice reverbrating to his still slightly sensitive hearing. He still had a lingering headache from his hangover. It was getting better, but it wasn't totally gone just yet, nor would it likely be for awhile. As Constantin declared he was leaving, Thalken faked a "pleasant" smile in the man's direction. In actuality, it probably looked more like a mixture of a grimace and a snarl. As he looked back at the tent, his "smile" quickly faded, and he could feel his anxiety creeping up again. He turned his back to the tent as he let out groan before plopping down into the grass, not much unlike what he had done outside their gate the night before. He decided that he would just let The Great Bazhooli come to him. Besides, he wasn't in any rush to set the terms and conditions. A heaviness came to his features as he absentmindedly plucked at the blades of grass at his feet.

Fast forward a little bit, and the circus was packed and moving out. Thalken found himself closer to the front of the procession, seeing as he was one of the guides. As it turns out, that crazy German fellow was also a guide, so apparently, the job wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. Additionally, just because he was working for the circus now, certainly didn't mean they wouldn't still be watching him like a hawk. He could feel his guards' eyes boring into the back of his skull, but he ignored them, or at least tried to. He let out a small sigh as he stared out the window of the moving wagon at the passing scenery. It wasn't really much of a sight, but it was the only entertainment he had at the moment. He felt confined in the small wagon with guards watching him closely, and yet at the same time, the further he got away from what he had once considered home, the more freeing it felt. It was liberating, and terrifying. He thought about what he was leaving behind. In all honesty, he was eager to leave it all. Well, all but one thing. One thing gave him pause, and one thing made him question his actions. His twin sister Thalcona. It dawned on him that in his eagerness to flee his father he hadn't accounted for her. She was literally the only person he cared about in this life, and he was abandoning her. And it pained him. It really did. It seemed that he could add it to all the other knives that were stabbing him in the heart. His face hardened, and he clutched onto the window pane as felt unsteady all of a sudden.

Just then, the procession came to a sudden stop, which nearly caused him to bash his head into the window. He let out a low groan of frustration. As his attention returned to the window, he could see the Wall of Jericho, emphasis on the wall part, loomed immediately ahead of them. "I think you should reconsider having that German fellow as a guide considering he just led us into a bloody wall," he growled before he attempted to make his escape from the wagon in order to figure out what the hell was going on out there.

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Fyror's brows rose slightly at Miss Fontaine's bright optimism. He however didn't quite share her outlook on the matter. Perhaps that made him cynical, or perhaps he was just being more realistic. He opened his mouth in order to argue against pursuing the naval vessel as a means of travel, but he quickly shut his mouth as one of his father's many lessons came to mind. "Unless they're doing something potentially life threatening, do not argue with women. It's unsightly and unchivalrous, not to mention the fact that it's entirely pointless. You'll never win, so just suck up your pride, shut your mouth, nod your head, and just go with it." Colonel Theodore's words played back through his head. Fyror held back a sigh and instead nodded his head before gesturing for Colette to lead the way if she so wished. His lips thinned into a hard line as he followed in behind her. Maybe he would once more find her steadfast independence and strength of will to be admirable, if it were not for the worry that was gnawing at him. Every second wasted to him was one more step that Lord Rutherford was ahead of him and one more step closer Millicent was to her doom. It begged the question of would they ever be able to catch up? Was this a hopeless pursuit? Fyror shook his head. No, he couldn't think like that. He couldn't give up hope. He wouldn't give up. Perhaps though if he had even an inkling of Colette's level of optimism right then, he wouldn't feel so riddled with anxiety. In the end, it didn't really matter whether they got closer or farther way, either way he was slowly losing his sanity to the depths of his overprotective nature.

He blinked a few times as Colette was now talking to him again. He realized then that he had actually zoned out for a moment there, no doubt succumbing to the stress that was overloading his brain and weighing down his body. He had zoned out long enough for the naval vessel to quickly reject them as he had known they would. Had he been a man of lesser integrity he would said "I told you so," but he didn't have it in him do something so curt. He just nodded his head and followed the Frenchwoman's lead. While some men would take offense to a woman taking charge, as if it would somehow diminish their masculinity, Fyror wasn't one of those men. Women weren't lesser beings in his eyes. They were worthy of the same level of, if not more, respect as men. As he followed Colette to the merchant ship, he made certain to stay alert this time around. His lips thinned once more as the man on board stated his inflated price. Fyror reached into his coat pocket where his wallet was, a frown tugging down on his lips. He wasn't sure that he could spare that kind of money. He had already spent his money once on this journey, if he spent much more he wouldn't have anything left in the case of an emergency. He glanced over at Colette, shaking his head slightly. She seemed to understand that the price the man was asking for was just too steep, and she headed for their last option, the small fishing boat.

He noted Colette's seeming reluctance, or perhaps it was disgust, as they went up to the smaller, and much less luxurious, vessel. He kept his mouth shut as Colette did the talking. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his wallet as the man stated the price. It was a more realistic fee, one Fyror was happy to pay if it meant they could leave for Port Annan so quickly. He pulled out the amount of cash requested and handed it over to the man. "Thank you kindly, sir," he stated earnestly. He gave the man a small appreciative smile before boarding the ship in behind Colette. Once again, she was taking the lead and he was following. He gave a small, albeit strained, smile before gazing out at the open ocean that laid over yonder.

Kirkpatrick House: Reaching the stairs, Charles looked back at Maeve and smiled. "All types of things miss, I likes swimmin most," he said in a bright voice as Thomas escorted the Lady Kirkpatrick inside of the house. It seemed that the two were locked in conversation.

"Oh, Bengamina will be staying with us." Sally stopped in her tracks just inside of the door and thrust her cane into the wood with a hard knock. "And just how long will she be staying?" Signing Thomas shook his head and gave a shrug of his shoulders. "Who knows." Her lips thinned as her eyes narrowed. "No visitor should be allowed admittance without a departure date set." Closing the door Thomas smooth his hair a bit. "She just showed up, what was I to do?" Turning away from him she eyed her nephew and motioned for Charles to continue up the stairs. "Offer her a scone, a cup of tea, and ship her back to the putricity of her hometown." Thomas' jaw went slack as he exclaimed, "London is under siege by Soulless!"

There was a frankness to Sallys next words as she stood her ground. "So, just another day on the Thames is it not?" Thomas threw his hands up in defeat. "Fine, you wish her ass out then you throw her ass out!" he said as he started to storm off. "Vulgarity is no replacement for wit." Shaking her head she began towards the stairs. "We can't all be as perfect as you auntie!" he screamed from another room. "Mores the pity," she sighed and then eyed Maeve for a moment before nodding for the girl to keep moving. "Never a dull moment in this house." It was obvious that the woman had a quick wit about her and a silver tongue, something she prided herself in.



London: "Puzzling and puzzling it is what we do, move and move, to and fro, stop and go, that's what make the walls come down, or up, or over or under," Ludwig said as he stared at the wall, his lips pressing together and thinning out as he did. Then his mouth went agape and hung there, he seemed to zone out as he looked at the wall. Holding there for a moment before blinking over and over again and pushing his glasses up his nose. "Yes, yes, that way, now that one, move there," he started to say. His hands started to move dramatically as if he was conducting a symphony that no one could see but himself.

The wall pieces kept moving each time Vlad moved one. Some stuck worse than others but they all eventually did move. That was until the Knight was sacrificed to the Queen. The knights block slipping into place, sunk. Down and down it went into the wall. "Knight saves queen," he said as he dropped to his knees and gave a shit eating grin. The ground shook and slowly the grass started to give way near the wall, ripping and tearing, tearing and ripping. Stone shook and gravel quaked, the squeals of gears turning from somewhere within and the walls opened, pulling apart and opening the heart of the nation to the rest of the world for the first time. "Checkmate."

Preston: "Of course, glad to help. Everyone needs a hand every so often," the ships captain said. It wasn't long before anchor was lifted and the sails were set. Pulling out of the harbor that was Preston and heading north. "The winds are with us, and the tides will be when we get to Port Annan," he said as his first mate took the wheel. "Get some rest, we will be there within hours as long as the wind remains with us."

Nottingham: Waiting on the two women, it was the first time that the Grand Duchess had given herself to be alone with her thoughts. Taking time to contemplate what they were doing, what could be waiting ahead of them, and what would be coming behind them. She had no doubt that the Circus was aware of her disappearance by now and they would soon to follow if they hadn't already. What would she do if they caught up to her? What she would she do if they didn't? What if they were too late to stop this madness? What if this was what Millicent wanted?

That hadn't crossed her mind until now, what if Millicent was doing this for a reason. A reason greater to her than her own life, it was possible. She would keep going though, if it was, she needed to know why. She had a vision for a reason, others had as well. She had to follow it through. And it seemed that the Lady's were joining her so that they could. The horse was ready but Myska didn't look like he wanted to move just yet. Sighing to herself she petted the large cat. She understood his weariness.

There was a lot of unknown at the present location. Out by the wall the progress of the convoy had halted because well it was a wall. As to why they were being led to a wall, this was a thing Constantin couldn't quite grasp. Then again he wasn't as crazy as the German fellow so it probably made some weird logic as to why lead them here. Thus he went to check closer to the wall and see what was going on.

First thing to see was the bloody German fellow being all weird and crazy. Then there was the weird shenanigans he was doing until the wall resembled a chess board. Then Vlad turned his patterned loud laughter and started sliding pieces.' So it's a puzzle...' Constantin thought as he watched the loud Russian man slide tiles as pieces shifted. He also gazed at the Ludwig fellow, but he was rather himself and not up to anything. Anything obvious at least.

Finally the puzzle seemed to be solved and something crazy happened. Everything seemed to be shacking and quaking as the wall started to open up!” Impressive!” He near shouted as the wall opened up and he hurried to return to the carriage his family used for all their stuff. Then stopped just as he reached it and was about to hop on. Constantin then looked back at the wall, tilted his head and asked.” Vait, vho the hell installed or built it that vay!? Got to ask the German later.” Was what he said in rather concerned and curious voice.

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Colette stepped on board the ship (if it could even be called such) as they prepared for departure. Colette was not too pleased with the traveling arrangement. Surely class counted for something? Colette lamented this as they set off. The ship captain was nice enough to do this for them, and really, she should be happy with that. Fyror was silent for most of it and Colette couldn't help but feel that she took the reins of this operation. And that made her feel guilty. Fyror wanted to find Millicent just as much, if not more, as her.

Colette entered the interior to find a place to sit and relax and rest up. She looked over to her companion for this journey. "I apologize if I overstepped myself, Monsieur Kildragon. I was just eager to get going and was hoping we wouldn't have to take this vessel. But choosers cannot be beggars, yes? We will make the most of it. The Captain is right, perhaps we should rest before. Hopefully, the wind provides us with safe, quick travels."

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"She sounds a delightful woman," Virginia replied softly, hearing of Mary's Matron of the Dead. She could not help but be curious to learn about the saint. Virginia liked to think of herself as a student of the dark forces, of the macabre - and as of such, a Matron of the Dead was something that sparked her curiosity. She made her way with Mary across the road to the stables, eventually spotting the Grand Duchess with Myshka and Cassius. For a moment, her thoughts went back to her own dear companion - a bloodhound named Ripper. She had every intention of bringing him with her on her later journey, in order to truly and properly Seek Life Elsewhere. She was certain that the Circus would be instrumental in that.

"Elizaveta, I was not able to find much using Sokw," she explained. "There is a chance the man rushing off, eager to marry, that I heard talk of may be Lord Rutherford - but I am not sure," she added, before she explained the scene she had witnessed with greater detail. She didn't want to waste time. While she could quickly look in a radius of 50 miles, traveling such a distance took considerably more time. Virginia had a guess as to the reason why Millicent was doing all of this, being her best friend, but she did not accept Millicent's logic. Even if she were to spare a sibling by marrying Rutherford, she could not marry every uncouth man in London to spare her siblings.

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"Do ye now?" Maeve replied to Charles, giving him another smile. "Me brothers an' I loved swimmin' as kids too." Of course, she hadn't actually had much time to swim as a child. On special occasions - namely birthdays - she would have a spare moment to go and swim at a small pond by their home. Her youngest sister had nearly drowned once, but Maeve had always had a talent for swimming. There was something cleansing about it, as well - as if the pond water just washed away all of the work and chores and made her mother's illness just a little bit easier to bear.

She continued to walk up the stairs with Charles, unable to help but overhear the conversation between Lady Kirkpatrick and her nephew. Maeve shook her head slightly. "I can what yer mean, aboyt 'ims lackin' wits," Maeve told Lady Kirkpatrick, continuing to move just as prompted. "If ye'd like, me lady, I can toss 'er oyt. Won't be any trouble," Maeve then offered. While she herself wouldn't have turned family away, she wasn't here in order to make presumptions about Lady Kirkpatrick's lifestyle. She was meant to observe and nothing more. And if Maeve was to be honest, she'd throw anyone on her father's side of the family - or even just someone acquainted with him - back to the greet the Soulless rather than allow them to stay in her home indefinitely too.

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Part of being a Bazhooli, or indeed any member of the Circus, meant that you lived a rather active life. Especially if you were a Bazhooli, and Vladimir was quite literally the Bazhooli'est Bazhooli living. This active life and constant training gave him certain physical advantages over more average working men, laborers, etc., reflected in the strength of his arm and nimbleness of movement. He used these attributes solidly to carry out Ludwig's directions as they played the most memorable game of Chess of the talented Rusyn's life. Just as memorable was the result of that game.

The movement of the Wall of Jericho was a truly impressive thing indeed. Vladimir, standing directly in front of the spectacle as the gap continued to widen, accompanied by the mechanical shake of the ground around them. This was not a thing that happened generally, seeing as walls were usually designed to stay solid and maintain a sense of security. Logically this had to have been constructed for a specific reason; The Great Bazhooli doubted that reason was to assist the Russian Imperial Circus in their unplanned escape from London. Ideas of philosophy or the motivation of long departed engineers aside, it was one amazing sight.

The Baron seemed to agree with Vlad's unspoken awe. His expression mirrored his son's, complete with the eyes sparkling with childlike wonder. Such was a sight never seen by the traveling folk, and they had seen much in their lifetimes. It was inspiring. Back in the procession, Konstantin Alexandrov stood atop his father's vardo, likewise highly interested in seeing an entire section of city fortification part before them.

The Great Bazhooli viewed the wonder of the sudden opening and looked to his father. He swept off his grand, tall hat and bowed low, drawing his hand to one side in a dramatic gesture. "Honor of first steps to you, my Baron." he said through a broad, gratified smile. The elder Alexandrov nodded his head and acted upon the insistence of his eldest son, leading his Circus out of London by means of a path not used in an age, if ever. As the Circus recovered from the event and pressed forward, Vlad put his fingers to his lips and blew out a whistle, following it up with a rather melodious call of, "Tolstoy!"

Within the matter of a quarter minute, a great black horse bred of Old Don stock came trotting up from the animal handler's mobile menagerie, fitted with full tack. It whinnied and snorted, then nuzzled up to Vladimir like they were old friends. The zealous Russian man leapt upon the noble beast, gently urging him ahead with promises of brushings and good, cold vodka. Upon rejoining the lead carts, Vladimir voiced a bit of a concern to Ludwig: "Vall? ...closes back, da? Vall closed, peoples feeling safe. Vall open, not feel as safe. Angry, scared peoples. Closes, da?"

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The notion that Virginia had some interest in a section of Catholic lore, however small a slice of it, was heartwarming. Of course, Mary figured only about half of the written history on the works of St. Gertrude would hold her interest. She was not a solemn death goddess in her own right; it was fairer to describe her as a representative of Christ who bore mercy for the dead and dying faithful. Though there were some accounts of her earlier life that painted a risque, occasionally sinful image of her. "I daresay you may find the teachings of the old Christian Gnostics worth a read, as well. Far less organized than the present incarnation of the Holy Roman Catholic Church, nonetheless their views on death and the veneration of Saints are..." She searched for the proper word to describe what she had been taught about the origins of her faith, settling on, "Provocative." Much of it now considered heretical, but yes, also provocative.

Mary listened patiently as Virginia explained directly to Veta the details of her spirit's trip outside of her earthly constraints. Occasionally, she looked over the big, white tiger, Myshka. The beast did not seem to want to go anywhere. After the previous night, Mary could not blame the poor animal any more than she could blame her own horse for needing to rest after the same journey. Fortunately for her horse, Elizaveta used one of her people's abilities to help it recover. It was now her time to return the favor.

Kneeling down near Myshka as Veta petted his fur, Mary called upon her Trained skill of Timyne and fueled it as best she could with mercy and the urgency of their mission. "Loving Father, exhale a breath of compassion upon Your noble beast; be it Thy will, let him rise to our aid, nourished and refreshed by Your mercy. Amen." She made the motions of a cross before her, ending by kissing the crucifix at the end of her rosary. The prayer wasn't actually necessary for the invocation of the skill, but it helped to center her. Carefully. Mary lay a hand upon Myshka's flank and allowed the blissful, healing energy of Timyne to sweep over the great, white tiger.

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Thalken managed to exit the wagon without a hitch, his boots hitting the ground with a resounding thud. He supposed at this point his guards didn't really even care if he ran off. They would just find some other sucker to do his job. He made his way towards the wall where The Great Bazhooli and the crazy German fellow were...playing? Miming? He didn't really know what they were doing, and he didn't really care. Well, maybe if he was being straight with himself, he would say he did care. After all, whatever mission they were on seemed urgent, so staring at a solid wall was most certainly a waste of precious time.

Right about the time he neared them, he felt the ground under foot shake and a mechanical grinding sound fill the air. He stopped in his tracks, his arms going out as if to steady himself. His brows furrowed before suddenly widening as the wall ahead began to literally open. "Freakin' hell," he exclaimed. While the others around him seemed to look at it in awe, Thalken was far from feeling such. He was just plain pissed. His face turned into a harsh scowl, before he took off at a sprint towards them. "What the hell do you think you're doing?! You're leaving the whole damn city vulnerable to a Soulless attack, the very Soulless that no doubt heard that noise from miles away!!" he nearly roared, having no need for propriety in the moment. What was propriety? Foolishness. However, as the procession of circus folk began to move on, he soon found himself shutting his mouth and running back to his wagon before they could potentially leave him behind.

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Fyror turned back to face the ship's captain and leaned back slightly against the railing of the boat. He nodded his head, giving the man another small, strained smile. "Good," he commented simply, before pushing away from the side of the boat. He leisurely followed after Colette, his hands in his coat pockets. He looked around, taking in the small interior of the boat. It wasn't much, but it would do. He let out a small sigh, before his gaze eventually gravitated back to Colette as she spoke to him.

He blinked, taken aback slightly by her apology. He opened his mouth, instinctively intending to reassure her, to say that it was alright, but he stopped himself. Why? Because he wasn't the type of person to lie, even if it was a seemingly inconsequential white lie. It just wasn't his style, so instead he stopped to reevaluate things. Had he been alright with what she had so brazenly done?

He chose his words carefully before speaking. "As far as being outspoken and all, feel free to keep doing that. I don't expect you to be a passive participant in this endeavor," he replied. He gave her a small, almost shy smile, before clearing his throat and continuing on with what he had to say. "Honestly, though, I was admittedly a bit annoyed that we wasted our time on the naval vessel. But I won't hold that against you. That's behind us now."

However, his smile soon faded, the corners of his lips pulling down slightly into a frown, at her last statement. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep any time soon," he stated solemnly, with a weariness to his eyes. "Don't let me stop you from getting some rest though. I'll give you some privacy." He then turned on his heels and left the room.