House Kirkpatrick: There were a few long tense moments in the carriage before the Lady Kirkpatrick said anything. Slowly though she began to speak. "I have word from Ireland," she said as she pulled out the paper she had looked over earlier. "Truly enlightening. So many forget that I too once lived there. That I studied and trained. How fortuitous it should be that a band of bumbling buffoons would not even to remember their dead aunties upbringing of poverty. Living in the streets. Working with the most underground of people. That I too used to rob, and cheat, and even forge documents." There was this mix of amusement to her voice and anger.

"Especially that I trained in Ruirac. I far too under utilized skill," she added bluntly, naming a skill from Ireland. Turning her head she looked out the window as they kept moving down the road and the buildings seemed to grow small in the distance. "That I have very close ties to Ireland and to the Church." Tapping her cane to the floor of the carriage it pulled to a stop as he looked back over to the woman sat across from her.

"Perhaps I missed my mark but that is a rare thing, so tell me if I am wrong. You judge him for doing precisely what you are attempting to do to me. Tell me is that sitting well in the pit of your stomach, Miss Brennan?" she asked in a stern grandmotherly like voice. Another carriage pulled up near them and came to a stop as Rory and the Father jumped down from their seats outside. Rory drawing his sword as Calum pulled from behind him a large what looked like a rope of metal beads with something silver and sharp at the end. It was a rosary but not one that seemed to be used to count prayer.

Port Annan: "Here, here, to the happy couple," Lord Egerton said holding up a glass after Nigel had brought a round over for them. "May they make the most of every moment." Lord Rutherford smiled slightly and nodded as he rose his glass. Millicents fingers wrapping around hers and then pushing it away. Rutherford looked over to her and tilted her chin up with his free hand.

"Still not feeling well?" he asked, there was concern in his voice. She shook her head and he nodded sympathetically. "Tea then," he said before rising and walking over to the bar as he left Millicent with Lord Egerton and the new comer.

"Ahh, poor thing has been through quite the trauma as I understand it. While I was witness to a single Soulless attack, the happy couple here have been through two of them," Egerton said. "Miss Wyndham here actually fought in the Battle of Almacks just a few nights ago and sadly lost a sister." Millicent shivered slightly and looked down, placing cloth to her cheeks as she dabbed away the welling of tears that were threatening in her eyes. "Isn't that right?"

There was a quick nod from her as she sniffled. "Ye..yes. I lost sweet Jane," she said in a morose voice as Rutherford brought back over the tea. Seeing Millicent starting to cry he sat down slowly and then looked over towards Egerton.

"What did you do?" he asked through gritted teeth.



The Bristol Port: Ludwig was having the time of his life as he darted this way and that. His journal ever open as he sketched and drew and wrote. He would mumble to himself, push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, keep writing, speaking to Dieter. His Ferret, not his brother. Oh yes, he was taking it all in and recording all of it. From time to time he would dart over to Vlad and Constantine and snag a fish and chip, grinning broadly as he went on and on about everything he was seeing and how it related to something else.

"La Canela. Oh yes, you would like them. Circus of the sea! They swim!" he said moving his piece of fish through the air like a bird in flight. "So fast, as fast as Brivaldi horse at full gallop! Zoom!" he said before flying the piece of fish into his mouth. The ship was raising anchor and taking the tide out of the harbor. They were finally on their way.

"Then there is The Code, oh yes, like your Tizirovat' but with people of the sea. Yes, yes, very interesting. Circus of the sea!" he said as he flipped the pages back and forth, searching. Closer to the front of the book on an older page he finally seemed to find what he was looking for. Turning it over he pointed to a sketch of a woman with stunning features and long flowing dark hair. "Captain Montoya, she is like your Grand Duchess yes?"

The Sea: The captain chuckled softly and shook her head. "No but you are free with information," she said as she leaned over and pulled open a drawer to her desk. Pulling a pistol she say a sly grin before setting it on her desk and then pulling out a crystal decanter and two glasses. "Come sit, have a drink. Warm your bones and calm your senses. What I was referring to was escaping the attacks. Ireland is currently under siege, I suspected if they were, so was England," she said as she poured two glasses. The color of the liquid was deep and crimson. Pushing over one glass she picked up her own and took a small sip.

"So, perhaps this is where we should start introductions," she said as she lowered the glass and looked over the rim. "I am Captain Regalia Montoya, and you are?"

Things seemed to be going swimmingly up in the captains quarters. (Ahh, see what I did there? I'm so funny, yuck yuck yuck lol) Downstairs was another matter. Marco slipped out of the hammock, still twirling the knife around on his fingers like a street showman might a coin. "Wasting time?" he asked before out of no where his other hand came flying and he back handed Fyror across the jaw. Hitting the man hard enough to send him spilling out on the ground. (Rolls were made, Fyror nearly crit failed his defense roll.)

Crouching down to what would end up being a rather dazed man Marco picked up an apple from a barrel next to them and started cutting it with the dagger. "That ship you were on was wasting time. Drowning in a sea is wasting time. You needing to get to Port Annan on this ship is not wasting time. We will be docking in Port Annan by nightfall," he said as he shoved a piece of apple in his mouth and grinned.

"Rescue? Is she weak woman who needs saving like you did? Plucked, pop from drowning? Is she stupid? How you know he will kill her? And why risk your life for her? Plenty of fair maidens need rescuing. Why this one?" he asked before rising and leaning back against the post as he cut another piece from the apple and plopped it into his mouth. Chewing as he waved the dagger around a bit. "If she weak and stupid, not worth saving. If she is not, then not need saving and sound like you just want to be, how do you people say? Knight in shinning armor?" he chuckled.

Why was Fyror rushing after Millicent? There were plenty of women who could use saving between here and London with all the Soulless attacks. Did Fyror believe she was so utterly weak she could not take care of herself? Why would she marry this man? Was she so stupid that she needed someone to tell her Rutherford was dangerous? Or did she have purpose? How did Fyror know any of what he had been told was true? Had he even bothered to check it out? No, he had jumped to conclusion, he had taken what he wanted to hear to as fact and never thought more of it. He had rushed boldly forward without thinking and now was pouting like a child. So Marco punished him as he would an unruly child, he had smacked the shit out of him.

Carlisle: Alright. So, let us review. You just jumped space, did you jump time? Who knows, no one has checked. Over with the Lady Kirkpatrick Maeve has been unmasked. In Port Annan, is Rutherford showing concern or is it an act? On one ship a crazed German is going on about La Canela - what the fuck is that? (Your characters don't know.) On another ship, Fyror just got bitch slapped for acting like Thalken. Will he get killed like Thalken as well? ANd you are in Carlisle - want to press after some quick rest for the horse? Yeah, well, that is all well and good except for um, you two suddenly hear a crowd of screams. "RYNES!!!!!!!!!!" you hear down the street and around a block. Carlisle is under attack!

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William willingly raised his glass to join the toast, smiling widely before taking a drink of the whisky still in glass. It took a lot of his social poise to stop himself from raising an eyebrow as the young lady pushed away her drink. The concern in her fiance's voice as he turned to her, cupping her chin, seemed genuine, and indeed William had no reason to think it wasn't. He smiled politely as Lord Rutherford rose and made his way to the bar, turning back as Lord Egerton spoke. At the mention of Soulless attacks, his ears pricked up slightly. He had gone so far as to open his mouth, eager to inquire, and find out more about these attacks, when he caught Millicent's reaction out of the corner of his eye. The question died on his lips. He smiled at the woman as kindly as he could as she spoke, her voice faltering.

He turned as he heard footsteps approaching the table, seeing that Rutherford had returned. The air seemed to chill slightly as Rutherford spoke, addressing Egerton, and William found himself questioning the strength of the relationship between the two. He wished he had been more perceptive during their exchange already, blaming the atmosphere for dulling his senses slightly. He vowed to watch the two men more closely in the future, as Rutherford had seemed to chastise Egerton, no doubt defensive of the fragile nature of his soon-to-be wife. William couldn't help but feel a slight tug at his heart, and although he knew it may not be his place he determined to do what he could to calm down, or at least distract, Millicent. Turning to her, he smiled again, leaning forward slightly.

"I a truly sorry to hear of your loss, Madam. I've lost family of my own to the Soulless, and I remember how raw the wound was when it was fresh. I assure you, the pain of grief will fade, time is the greatest healer, and you can use the strength of your new husband, as well as your own!"

Straightening up again, William resolved himself. The showman in him had been itching to perform ever since he had first stepped amongst the crowds within the tavern, and the scratch had become increasingly difficult to ignore. Rising to his feet, William placed his nearly-empty glass down on to the table. Looking to Rutherford, taking him as the de facto leader of the group.

"Your romance has inspired me. If you mean to wed soon, it would be my honor to join with you both, and lend my own talent to your celebration. I have my fiddle with me, and it would be a privilege to attempt to capture such love with music."

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Virginia raised an eyebrow at Mary for a moment. "Why presume that whatever force had to have intended to help our cause?" she pointed out. Coincidences were possible, however rare they were in the world. It was possible that a Soulless was somehow responsible, unwittingly aiding their efforts - or that perhaps they both had just been plunged into some sort of trap. However, Mary's line of logic aside, Virginia was in agreement. Allow the poor horse to rest and then push onwards to Gretna Green.

Her sharp ears picked up the sound of screams - and more importantly, the word they were crying out. "...Perhaps the Soulless did indeed cause us to travel here," Virginia mused. She couldn't help but wonder if the Rynes had bent space and perhaps time as well in order to hit this town, unwittingly bringing Mary and Virginia alone. She never had heard of such a thing before, yet she was a Crypt. She embraced the unusual, unexpected, and unprecedented. Strange things had been occurring of late. Perhaps it was time to throw out the old book, so to speak, and start anew.

"Shall we?" Virginia then asked, clutching her axes.

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A feeling of shame did indeed grow in the pit of Maeve's stomach, yet not for judging Calum. No, Lady Kirkpatrick had scolded her in such a manner that Maeve could not truly recall its last occurrence. She had been the eldest child, her mother had been frightfully ill, and her father...Maeve never paid him any mind these days. It reminded her of the way she might have scolded Roisin for getting sweets late at night. But Maeve did not have the luxury to be able to dwell on this feeling of shame.

No, from what Maeve could perceive, Lady Kirkpatrick knew all about her. Her nephew's planning had been clumsy and if Maeve were to venture a guess, the only reason Calum had brought her here was in order to have her - the intended spy - turn on the nephew. Yet she couldn't say for certain - she didn't feel as if she were in any mortal danger, yet the shame mixed with some anxiety - especially as the carriage came to a stop next to them and weapons were pulled. She had to admit, Calum did look quite dashing, armed with his violent rosary.

She shook her head slightly. "No, me lady. I don't judge 'im for 'is decepshun - I canny trust 'im cos 'e's too much like meself...I think we 'av a similar nature. an' I wouldn't trust me if I were 'im either, me lady," Maeve answered. She was hoping that honesty would be the correct approach here. "An' while I'm bein' completely 'onest 'ere, me lady, I fend 'im a bit attractive as well." She took a breath, watching Lady Kirkpatrick. She had a feeling Lady Kirkpatrick was more dangerous than whatever was in the other carriage.

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Colette could not hide the blush that slowly crept up to her cheeks. It appears as though she had not retained her lessons on thinking before one spoke. Nan would be rolling in her grave right now. Colette cleared her throat to mask whatever embarrassment was to come forth. "I apologize. I felt that since you and your crew did us a service there was no reason to hide my intent for travel. It seems I have...what is the phrase...put my shoe in my mouth?" Colette shrugged and sat down.

She noted the pistol as it appeared on the table first. Colette tried to mask her surprise, but then again, these were pirates. However, they proved to be nothing more than hospitable to her and Fyror (she hoped!) and they did save their lives. If they wanted them dead, surely they wouldn't have bothered rescuing them? But then another thought crept. She came from a wealthy family. And she was sre Fyror did as well. So did they mean to imprison them for ransom? The thought couldn't help but enter her mind.

She would have to keep her wits about her. She stared at the glass offered. She wouldn't mind warming up more with a drink, but what if it was poisoned? She really was paranoid at this point. Adventure awarded the bold, did it not. She picked it up and took a sip, letting the warmth travel down her throat. "The attacks were...brutal. I managed to escape from a party, though others were not so lucky. My name is Colette and, again, thank you for rescuing us."

There was a clear sigh of relief as the heavy load was taken off his shoulders. Carrying the big bags of horse food was not something he did often, but with the training to become a performer they underwent, it was more or less a given he would at least be able to carry one of those! He would be ashamed to call himself a man or a part of the Circus if he couldn't! He felt inner pride at the moderate praise that Vlad gave him about the task well performed.

“I understand. I hurried to the utmost, so ve shouldn't be too much behind schedule hopefully.” Constantin said as he started to lead his horse into the boat too as it carried the rest of the horse feed.” I vill take a cabin.” He stated with sure voice. Having some degree of secure space was good for his mood and being with Vlad was his duty. He had to protect the Bazhooli! Granted the man could protect himself, but Constantin wouldn't be evading his obligations and duty! As a member of the Circus his job was to protect their leader now, what's more he was the sole person to do it. He wasn't going to count on the crazy German unless there was no other choice.” I bought enough foodstuffs! There should be plenty!” He nodded as they were on the bloody boats. Now Constantin realized something real important while they were boarding the thing.' Damned deep black water...' He thought, throwing looks around. This was not going to be fun for him once they were away from the Harbor.

“Vhut?” He made a confused sound as Ludwig started going noisy and explaining something to them.' La Canela?' He was confused as he listened to the explanations give. He couldn't say he was surprised really. Soulless were everywhere and different from place to place as he witnessed first hand. Soulless of the sea and people of power and wisdom of the sea would naturally exist. Then his eyes went to the sketch they were shown.” She's as pretty, I will admit that...” Constantin replied, not feeling happy cause Veta was missing.

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William's face was a smiling mask as his eyes moved across the members of the small group. The lady, Millicent, was clearly jumpy, although whether that was due to her supposed sickness, a weak temperament or something more... sinister, William couldn't be sure. Egerton seemed like a fool, too eager to please, and William dismissed him from his focus, at least for now.

It was Rutherford that seized William's attention. He was a man of contradictions himself, so he was all too familiar with the clashing of emotions that flickered across Rutherford's face in an instant. There was a darkness, and a cruelness to the man, but there was love there, or at least tenderness for Millicent. His offer to attend their wedding had a duel purpose. He certainly relished the opportunity to perform, but something un-nerved him about this pairing, and some half-forgotten emotion of empathy and chivalry stirred within his heart. The bruises he could glimpse across Millicent's arms and face only further cemented his decision as he waited for Rutherford's response.

House Kirkpatrick: "Good choice of words when dealing with me child. I suggest you keep that in mind in the future. Keep your deception with my nephew. I wish to weed out his plans though I am sure his intentions are to usurp me. In the mean time, we have more pressing matters at hand. Ireland fell under attack two day prior," the Lady Kirkpatrick stated bluntly before rapping her cane against the door. Calum reached back and opened the door, holding his hand out for the lady as she stepped down. Once she was out, he did not reach back for Maeve this time, his focus on the carriage before them.

"It is safe enough to proceed," she said swiftly and Rory nodded. Sheathing his sword and walking over to the other carriage. Opening the door he let out a small breath.

"Everything go smoothly?" he asked as he helped move several small bags to the side so they were out of the way.

"We barely got out, it was a fight to get her but I wasn't taking no for an answer. Luckily old family ties apparently garnered enough trust," a mans voice said from the carriage before he continued. "I have a ship that is supposed to meet us tonight in Port Annan, we haven't much time."

Lady Kirkpatrick looked back and waited for Maeve to join her. "You want security, I offer it here and now as I have done for another before you. Training, paid for, in Rome for her. There is no safer place during these attacks," Lady Kirkpatrick said as a child came out of the carriage and smiled brightly as she spotted Maeve, rushing to her mothers arms.

Port Annan: Millicent quirked a brow. "When one is forced to watch a parents life end as a Soulless, that is a cursed blessing I ever doubt that will fade," she said before looking down and fiddling with her thumb slightly. Rutherford's eyes never left Lord Egertons during the exchange until Millicent stopped speaking. Glancing out of the corner of his eye at her he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer.

"I doubt any tune could embrace our lived but do be sure to try, perhaps a tune would help brighten the ambiance of the inn if nothing else," Rutherford said graciously as Millicent leaned against him slightly. She shivered against him and then pulled away but Rutherford held her tight, possessively for a moment before letting her right herself. "Try here before we invite you elsewhere."

Egerton smirked. "Yes, I doubt anyone could find the fitting notes for such a relationship but why not while we eat," he added as he snapped his cloth linen napkin and laid it over one leg as the tavern girl brought over the plates of food they had ordered.

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Fyror's attention was a bit torn, only halfheartedly eyeing Marco as the man slipped out his hammock and casually enough walked over towards him. His mind was otherwise just too preoccupied. He could feel the telltale signs of his rising agitation stirring within him. Upon occasion, under circumstances such as this where his insatiable desire to protect mixed with a feeling of utter failure and helplessness, his sanity could tip over the edge, sending him into a frenzied panic. Mind over matter was more or less pointless then as the raw need to make things right, even at the cost of his own life, took over any intelligent thought. Yet, before he could truly entertain the thought that he was nearing his breaking point, he was suddenly backhanded, sending him sprawling out onto the floor. A grunt mixed with a startled gasp left his lips before he felt pain radiate through his body as he made contact with the hard wood floor. He certainly hadn't seen that coming, and his mind was rather hazy at the moment. He spat out some blood from having bit his tongue on his way down. He let out a small groan and blinked as he tried to recollect himself.

His gaze stiffly turned to look up and over at Marco as he slowly pushed himself upright. He shook his head slightly, trying to focus and understand the man's line of questions. Why was he trying to save Millicent? Was that what the man was asking? Well, why not?! was his gut reaction, but perhaps that was his heart once more speaking on behalf of his mind. While a part of him felt that he didn't have to answer the man, that he shouldn't have to explain his actions, propriety said otherwise and intelligence made him falter. Why did he so adamantly believe Millicent was in danger? Why did he feel so desperate to save her if she was? Those were good questions with multilayered answers. He got himself back onto his feet, albeit a bit shakily. He moved to straighten his jacket and then remembered the man had given him a fresh pair of clothes. He grimaced slightly, before addressing the man's questions and accusations head on, his words getting more fervent the longer he spoke.

"I was given what I believed to be reputable evidence that it is highly likely that the woman is in danger by the man in question. I was given a file by one Dr. Graham that described in graphic detail what the man's previous wives had endured before they died. They were brutally abused, defiled, and subsequently killed. He would then take their families' money and properties. Not only that, while I was at the hospital learning this, I walked in just in time to hear one of her sisters saying something about Millicent having possibly been defiled by the man. What was I supposed to do?! If she really was in danger, the longer I waited, the time it would take to verify all of the sources, Millicent could be lost forever! I would rather go after her and find out that she's alright then to gamble with her life. And I will tell you this, sir, I would go to the ends of the earth, to hell and back, for those I CARE ABOUT!!!" And there it was, perhaps the real truth of the matter.

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A smile crossed Vladimir's face. One that was marred by Fish and Chips for only a half-second before he remembered his manners. He had never heard of these people before, La Canela, and considered himself a more than reasonably well traveled man. Potential allies, perhaps? Another organization that The Graveolase had passed over, that they might enlist to their alliance? Even if they wanted to be left alone, making the Circus's existence known to them would be an excellent first step.

The sketch of the woman most certainly caught his attention. "Is pretty lady. Very pretty. Vould much like to meet this ocean Am to understand, this lady is leader of all LaCanela? Hmm..." He thought for a moment, raising his hands in front of himself as to use them to somehow assist in his explanation, "Grand Duchess is not leader of Circus. Is strange, I think, to people of outside. Hmm... Yes! For yes. Baron is running Circus. But Baron Alexandrov is Russian Aristocracy. Grand Duchess is big noble, daughter ov Emperor. Can tell anyvone who is Russian vhat to do. Circus is citizens of Empire, Baron is subject ov Emperor. And ov course, ve have taking, eh, how to say... Economic Subsidy from Imperial Treasury, for care of our Veta." Vlad shrugged, giving consideration to another possible interpretation of Ludwig's question, "Grand Duchess vould have represented Rusyn in Graveolase."

Vladimir ate another portion of yummy fried potatoes, and opted to clarify his statement. "Understand, ve love our Veta. Love. Grand Duchess is my light. The making of shiny in heart of Bazhooli Sem'ya. Is my Tatushka half. Ve help her, ve protect, ve take up her qvest not because having to, because vanting to." Nonchalantly, he concluded, "And she can order our deaths." His words were spoken around a growing, toothy smile. He turned to Constantin, "Good find. Am liking the fishes."

The group's belongings were stowed in the single, smallish cabin reserved by English silver for their use. It was not furnished for the extremes of hospitality, naturally. The craft was a merchant vessel, not a cruise ship. While it would afford much more in the way of comfort and luxury than a fishing vessel or a garbage scow, it was built to move light cargo from Point A to Point B with speed and reliability. A tight fit for three people, perhaps. Vladimir reserved the right to string up a hammock someplace below decks, should the desire for privacy appear. But just for now, as they were settled in enough to launch, Vladimir would be much more satisfied with the boat moving out to open water.

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Dame Hale looked to Virginia and smiled. This is one of the reasons, she figured, that she liked the woman. Despite the obvious differences in personal taste, the way they celebrated their respective events, and naturally, the glaring religious differences that otherwise would have made their ever being friends possible. This. The differing perspective of an allied Crypt lady was a boon in many circumstances. Mary was taught strictly, perhaps even inflexibly, by her family as a child and then by the Vatican until her adulthood. She hunted, she killed, she praised God and all of his many splendors. She followed orders. She was a Knight, and lived by a Code. But even she knew that if one is told what not to do long enough, it stunted one's imagination. Whatever her Church thought about the Crypts, Mary was glad to have Virginia's influence.

"That is an excellent observation, Virginia. This could be a hastening to our intended demise that just happens to bring us closer to Gretna." The thought was pessimistic, but not outside the realm of logic. They had all witnessed previously unseen Soulless with likewise unseen powers, and very recently. The dynamic had changed for some reason. This could all be a trap. The screams ahead of them seemed to agree with Virginia's assessment. "Ryne..." The very word sent her mind back to her childhood, and the losses incurred. Mary slid from her horse and looped the reins over the nearest hitching point. If Cassius was not up to vigorous travel, he was not in ideal condition to fight, either. One of her chain rosaries, wrapped around her hand and wrist as usual, made a soft clicking sound as Mary readied her halberd. "And you will know my name is The LORD; when I lay my vengeance upon thee."

The look of cold serenity upon Mary's face was almost palpable, as reinforced by frigid, detached words in response to Virginia's query. "Yes. Let's." Eyes directed forward were followed by footfalls as she swiftly (but not stupidly) advanced on the scene.

The Bristol Ship: And out of dock they went, sails down and wind catching them as anchors were up and they were headed out of port. Ludwig's smile grew on his features and he grinned wide. Keep teeth closed, keep the gates closed, closed to stem the tidal waves of soul, no sole, no sol! Fish! Fishy fishy fishy yummy fishy and chips. Chips? Chips of what? What was there chips of? Chips of this and chips of that, chips of glass? Glass? Ugh. Circus was weird. "No chips stick with the fish," he said grimacing with lips puffed. Yeah, he would stick with the fish. His stomach wasn't as Russian as theirs apparently.

"Baron? Baron, down down the totem pole, Baron run, run run away. Run the circus far away but Duchess run Baron. Weeee! Duchess run circus. Duchess run Russia, Scary Mary dig Graves, Regalia sails La Canela." he said with a swallow here and a chew there a wave of the hand and a push of the glasses and a close of the book. Turning and spinning he tilted his head and looked towards Constantine and then towards the sails, there wasn't enough wind to move quickly enough. Sighing he plopped down where were he stood, in the middle of the deck. Decks, decks, decks a mess, a mess of decks, gotta move, gotta move, move my quill draw, yes. Reaching into his bag he pulled out a journal he hadn't been using and placed it gingerly on his lap.

The Sea: Marco just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Oh you are bird in waters thinking you are fish, funny," he chuckled but said nothing else. There was no point, people could latch onto ideas and things they created in their own mind far better than they could reality. It wasn't worth the effort. Anyways he had a nice apple to munch on as he grabbed the railings of the stairs and started up to the main deck of the ship.

"Marco. Yaan wáaj u k'exik?" the little red headed teenage girl asked. He looked down and shrugged.

"Ba'ax Ba'axten p'u'ujul. In mojar tu ka'atéen," he retorted and the two laughed, him much louder than her.

"Ba'ax bey ka ba'ax ku yúuchul?" she added as she sat down and started practicing knots on a long bit of rope. Marco shook his head and sat down next to her, taking the ropes and pointing to different places before reknotting them.

"Chico ti' kaambal táan Chuup yéetel mierda, u ts'áaik excusas, ku componen jump'éel fairytail ichil u tuukule'. Le bastante patético Ba'ale' tech a wóojel bix ku meyajo'ob pollas, ma' tuukultik," Marco said chuckling between knots and taking a bite of his apple.

"Unfortunate. I had hoped to meet an old friend in London but due to the storm we are forced north ahh, he will find me," she said as an after thought. Attacks are never good but the storm complicated things. Regalia waved off the worry as she stood up from her seat. "We were there, you got lucky. Don't make it out to be more than that. It tips your hand," she said with a slight grin as she walked over to a large table behind her and motioned for Collette to join her.

"You must be hungry, go ahead," she said as she pointed to the fruits and cheeses that were out. "So, this gentleman with you? Kildragon? He is your rescuer? Lover? Filling in the time as you escape marriage?" Regalia asked as she plated some food for herself and returned to her desk. "Or just friend helping find a friend? I would say something about a woman traveling alone with a man but," she added chuckling to herself. "I'm one of two on a ship full of them."

Carlisle: Alright, we have a full map now with grid for you - these are the ones within line of sight for Mary and Virginia - including the ones rolled for already for Virginia - this should make your updates easier as you move. Use general grid labels for location as per usual.

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Virginia nodded, saying a silent prayer to the Dark Mother. While Mary seemed to prefer to recite her statements aloud, Virginia preferred a silent and quiet meditation on them. She felt it was something that Veliona would appreciate as well. There was no need to announce her religious beliefs or anything of the sort, causing many to only have a mild suspicion that Virginia was pagan - or perhaps just some sort of indecisive Christian if they were particularly naive. Even Mary had only learned that very day of Virginia's religious beliefs.

She focused her mind through the technique of Nakai as she dismounted Mary's horse, drawing her axes - one in each hand. The last time she had truly drawn them in combat, dear Mosi had perished. She glanced at Mary for a moment, contemplating whether she would bury another friend by the time day had ended - or if she herself would meet her ancestors that eve. She advanced forward towards where she anticipated the Rynes to be, finding a medium sized group of Rynes around the corner. Her axes were already at the ready and she used her training in the Colonies to strike true, nailing one about twenty feet away in the chest with her axe. The Ryne fell backwards onto its back and Virginia took a breath, keeping her mind clear and focused.

"That's one."

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Maeve nodded, feeling an internal sense of relief when Lady Kirkpatrick didn't ask for Calum or Rory to kill her. This was the way she had learned to survive - to always look for opportunities and to find her way to the next step. There weren't any lines in the sand that she had drawn for herself - except when it come to Roisin's wellbeing. She wouldn't undergo any actions that would hurt her only daughter. And beyond the simple strategizing to stay alive and secure Roisin's future, she much preferred spying for the Lady Kirkpatrick than for her nephew.

Lady Kirkpatrick's next phrase took her off guard - Ireland was under attack. A queasiness rose up in her stomach and she felt incredibly clammy. Her brothers and sisters in law had to be protecting Roisin, right? The feeling continued to rise up into her throat and she felt a compulsion to run to Ireland on foot to save her daughter from any horrors. She'd gladly fight a thousand Soulless for Roisin - it wasn't even a question. She didn't even feel the ground as she stepped out of the carriage after Lady Kirkpatrick, a certain feverish dizziness taking over - but it all vanished in an instant as if she had been splashed by cold water as Roisin ran out of the carriage.

Hugging Roisin tightly, Maeve pressed a kiss to her daughter's forehead. She pulled back for a moment, keeping one hand on her daughter and using the other hand to sign to her, ensuring Roisin was making eye contact first: Are you alright, little rose? Mummy's missed you so so much! She gave Roisin a kind smile, not wanting to scare her or interrogate her. "Can they teach de deaf in Rome?" Maeve asked Lady Kirkpatrick. She wasn't familiar with Rome's training system and what they could accommodate. Yet even if they didn't, she knew Lady Kirkpatrick was right - it would be the safest place for her. "T'anks for de kind offer, me lady. I really appreciate it," Maeve added, nodding.

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She considered the woman's words. It was true that they may have had other reasons for being there. There may be other forces at work, who knew really? "Still, you could have left us there to deal with that creature? Instead, you and your crew risked themselves to save us. Not many would have done that in your place. So for that, I am grateful."

Colette looked at the spread of food in front of her and felt her stomach rumble. She hadn't eaten since....well since the party! Oh her maid would be knocking her sideways. She was quite famished! "Thank you. I am very hungry." Colette helped herself to a comfortable amount of everything. Once she was satisfied she would be filled, she sat with Regalia.

She had expected the question to come up, though maybe not as quickly. Or from Regalia herself, really. "Oh no, he is not my lover. He is a....well, I would say a friend. He did risk himself to save me as I cannot swim, so for that I owe him a debt of gratitude, but I know nothing more about him apart from simple conversation. He seems like an honest man, but I have been wrong about such things before."

Constantin couldn't help but frown at the tale the crazy German was spinning. While Vlad was busy explaining to him what was going on with the rulership of the circus and what Veta's grand position was in it all. He didn't pay too much attention to Vlad's speech, as he knew it well enough after all he was part of the Circus and considered himself someone who knew Veta enough to be called friends given if they weren't in their present social standings. Mentioning her, made him think about her again as he looked away towards the land they were leaving.

The ship was already moving away so they were entirely on water officially. Constantin frowned and thought of Veta again. Where was she? Was she fine? Would they find her in time? What if they didn't? That was a horrible thing to even think about! He's expression turned grim at the prospect.' Why couldn't I notice her plan earlier?' He thought to himself, partly blaming himself. Why didn't the visions reach him when it was happening? Constantin couldn't help it and blamed truly himself for this blunder. He should have expected for her to pull of something! Didn't she always like to act in such manners? He clenched his fists, his expression grim. ' If she asked... would I have followed her and leave without saying anything to Vlad?' He asked himself, his fists clenched tightly enough to make his knuckles white. This question now haunted him. Whom would he have paid more loyalty to in that case? Her? The Bazhooli?' Dammit...' He cursed, unable to figure it out. Now he may never find that answer and it was even more tearing him up from the inside.

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So it was to be a test then. In truth, William had expected as much. As confident as he was in his own abilities, despite his best efforts his name wasn't as renowned as he might have liked. No matter, he had resolved to keep an eye on this unusual pairing, his decision only further re-enforced as he watched Rutherford hold Millicent possessively against him for a moment.

A snide comment from Egerton, and a smirk, was more than enough to light the fire of competition in William's heart. He had already decided he firmly disliked the man, dismissing him as a sniveling worm, desperately clinging to whatever strange power that Rutherford possessed. He'd play, oh yes, he'd play. He had spent years of his life, poured his very childhood, under the mentorship of his father, into learning to not just play the fiddle, but to live it, to play the tempo of his beating heart. He could craft a tune that would bring a tear to eye of a goddess, he could capture the burning passion of the lovers of myth. Attempting to find the 'fitting notes' to the absurd, and tentative, relationship that he saw before him? It should be child's play in truth, so to be so openly doubted by these two men was like a slap to the face. Did Rutherford think he possessed some great love, some angelic connection that demanded only heavenly choirs to express it? The very thought of it, of the dismissal of music, made William sick. No emotion could allude music, music was emotion. It was the purest, most genuine expression of emotion, it was love and it was heartbreak. It was joy and it was melancholy. It was calm and it was rage. Forcing a smile, William nodded his head slightly.

"It would be my humble pleasure to play for you of course, although I hope I can be more than background music to your dining. Please excuse me for a moment while I fetch my instrument.""

Turning, William strode across the tavern, fighting to contain his annoyance,. Stepping back through the door which he had entered through, William allowed himself to take a long, deep breath, calming himself down. He looked about him, his eyes scanning for his horse, and the priceless fiddle carefully strapped across it's back.

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The mental shrug performed by The Great Bazhooli was thankfully left without external mirror. Ludwig knew much about the world around him. Very much. It made Vladimir wonder whether he had insight to some mythic storehouse of knowledge through his Germanic Training that others were simply unable to access. He spent the next few seconds theorizing that it might by that very access that made him ...like he was. Too much knowledge, too fast for a mind to keep up with and not sound like a madman. It made sense. For all he knew though, others of his skill set were more socially acclimated and he was the exception. Unlike Ludwig, Vlad did not have this seemingly all-encompassing knowledge at his fingertips. His guess was as good any anyone's, who did not have previous experience with these people.

Vladimir did note that, at least concerning his own people, his knowledge seemed purely academic. The description of the hierarchy, while technically correct, lacked much of the insular feel of life and lines of respect given in the Circus. And of course, he was talking about Vladimir's father. Perhaps no disrespect was intended. Ultimately, it didn't matter. Vlad was the very epitome of the Russian Circus, as was the Baron, the Ringmaster, and the fine and noble performers and laborers therefrom. No mindless soldiers following orders, they were as close to family as one might be, that were not blood. Books often had trouble describing cultural nuances such as that. Nevertheless, The Great Bazhooli did have to tip his hat to the extent of the man's education in the ways of others; he obviously knew as much as, if not more, than any other outsider could about the Circus.

But again, all academic. Time and association would give him greater understanding. Maybe even he would learn something about the culture of the German fellow's people. The only ones he knew were Ludwig and Adam, and the little boy barely even knew what he was. Vladimir finished off his fried potatoes and battered fish, the ubiquitous dish that he had heard was so common among English folk, and took a look around. Sailors tended sails and secured the deck as the three of them stood among it all, taking in the experience. He looked to Constantin, feeling that he had not shown proper gratitude for his assistance as of yet. While not in open water just yet, they had made it to a boat. He could not have done it by himself this quickly, nor provisioned them all without help.

"Spasibo, Constantin. Thanking you for coming vith us, and thanking you for the helps, da? Have given gratitudes to Ludvig. Vant you to know too, appreciations. Vhen landing, ve move as vone. See to Grand Duchess, take up qvest. Save lady. Fight, vin, live! Great Bazhooli and Constantin Firevalker, exploding onto countries of Britain Island - and beyond! Righting wrongs, fighting Soulless, spreading vord of Circus, and her mighty varrior-performers! HA! Stories vill be told of exploit; strange Russians from beyond sea and over steppe, into mountain and ancestral home! To die for such undertaking is honor, to live and return again is glory. Now, all ve can do is vait." Vladimir removed his hat from his noble head and bowed to his countryman, then began to saunter to the cabin reserved for the three of them. As he moved, he concluded, "For now, ve rest. Resting and practice!"

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Yes, Carlisle was under attack. Not the doings of a single, desperate Ryne, but what looked to be a coordinated attack of several of these abominations. What was more, they appeared to have arrived in advance of Mary and Virginia. The possibility crossed Mary's mind that Virginia's idea might very well be accurate, and this was a setup. If this was indeed a trap, the fiery-haired Apostolic was intended to punch through it and break the spring which would have ensnared them within its teeth. Though her face remained cold and serene, Mary's eyes burned with righteousness and fury.

"Destroy that which is evil, so that which is good may flourish." Whether or not something good meant to flourish in Carlisle was not her immediate concern. The first half of the quote was, which she intended to take very seriously. The quick taps of her riding boots upon the city streets was the last warning that the Ryne had before Mary was upon it, lunging the pike end of her Swiss halberd toward the throat of the creature. Murder was a cardinal sin in the eyes of the Lord, though it could only be committed upon the number of those possessing souls. This thing was not among that number. Unfortunately, it did possess reflexes as it did in life, allowing for a defined evasion and robbing Mary of a quick kill.

The Ryne slipped behind the business end of the halberd, coming at Mary with bared teeth. It was a last moment movement that Mary countered, fluidly sidestepping and bringing up the shaft of her weapon to deflect the coming blow. Though denied its own kill, Soulless hands caught the halberd's haft and pressed forward, driving Mary toward the wall of the building behind her. It was strong. But so was Mary. Underneath the loose clothing and religious vestments that commonly made up Sister Mary's wardrobe, she was a brutally conditioned woman, capable of bringing forth grace and physicality which was mortally surprising to those who would cause harm.

Using the inertia of her movement to her advantage, Mary kicked a foot behind her, landing firmly onto the wall. Simultaneously, she brought her entire upper body into the single task of thrusting her weapon up and forward, horizontally. The resulting impact smashed into the jaw of the very shocked Ryne, shattering its mandible and laying it out flat upon the cobblestones below. Mary planted a boot upon the chest of her fallen adversary and, with utilitarian precision, swiped the halberd across in a single arc, removing the top half of its head from the eyes and up.

Mary swung her blessed weapon above her head in a single, powerful loop; the purpose being to remove the Ryne's blood from the blade in a direction away from Virginia. Her eyes moved to pick another target even as her voice, determined and cold, clearly answered her friend's declaration from just earlier:

"Two."

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There was an intensity to Fyror's gaze when he finished his passionate "speech", and his nostrils flared slightly before he ripped his gaze away from Marco. His breath came in and out a bit sharply, as he instead stared down at the floor. If his outward demeanor was any indication, the man's words to follow didn't seem to penetrate him. He didn't make any move to follow after the man, choosing to stay below deck, if just for a moment's reprieve. Once the man was out of earshot, Fyror suddenly spun around and slammed his clenched fist against the wood beam behind him. His breaths were shaky as he closed his eyes and shook his head lightly. He rested his forehead against the rough wood as he tried to calm his breathing, yet at the same time, he was having a much harder time calming his thoughts. He eventually opened his eyes again as he pulled away from the beam, letting his hand unclench and slide back down to his side. There was emotion and weariness in his gaze as he now stared up at the ceiling.

"Why do I do this to myself?" Fyror murmured, letting the question linger in the air unanswered. It was a question that he often asked himself at times like this, and yet he still had no better answer than it simply being a part of his nature to cause himself such inner turmoil. Why did he care for Millicent enough to risk his life for her? And what kind of outcome did he expect out of this errant mission? It wasn't perhaps something he had taken much time to consider, instead deciding to trust his gut and his heart. Yet, he should know better than anyone that his heart had a habit of getting away from him.

The question ran through his mind again. Why did he care about Millicent? Once he allowed himself to think on it and more so to accept it, it wasn't hard to figure out. She was perhaps the first woman to truly give him the time of day, to treat him like a human being and not a monster. More than that, she had a strength to her that he admired, and the thought of someone tarnishing that repulsed him. They also had shared a moment, even if rather fleeting, that he would cherish forever. A soft smile appeared on his lips at the good memories, before quickly fading at the gravity of reality. Perhaps there was something between them or perhaps not. In the end, it didn't really matter, as he probably would never feel that he was truly worthy of her. Nevertheless, he felt this innate need to protect her, if only to repay her kindness to him. He owed her that much at least. He nodded his head slowly and took a deep breath, before he headed back up to the main deck now that he had regained his composure. He soon caught up with Marco, who was currently conversing with a teenage girl.

House Kirkpatrick: Calum and Rory kept kept guard, looking out as they were a bit exposed where they were but at least it was more private than the house they had left just a little while before. It would have to do. The walls had ears, even if they were of her own flesh and blood. Sometimes that just wasn't enough.

"My dear do you think I would be fool enough to send a child to a world where she could not let her own voice be heard?" Lady Kirkpatrick said with a an exasperated face as she knocked the tip of her cane against the ground. Calum chuckled a bit and glanced towards the man that had been escorting the young child from Ireland.

"Father Sean Patrick Murphy O'Reily," the man man said as he signed it at the same time. "I've been working with the deaf for the last decade, she would be under my care in Rome," he said as he kept signing and smiled over at Roisin. "Though I am surprised that is a question considering.." he started to say before Calum cleared his through a bit. "I see, well never mind. We should be going and quickly."

"Does this settle concern well enough?" Lady Kirkpatrick asked as she looked down at the girl and tilted her head to the side.

Port Annan: Rutherford made a slight motion with his hand as if to say go ahead. Millicent just poked at the food that she had been given. Egerton didn't really pay attention as he took a sip from his tea. The music began and it seemed that the crowd at large was enjoying the music. Millicent glanced over towards man as he played before her eyes turned down cast again, whatever he was playing didn't seem to be impressing her enough to keep her attention focused on it. Perhaps her mind was just elsewhere. Egerton just shrugged a bit and whispered a few words into Rutherford's ear before exiting the tavern.

Rutherford on the other hand seemed to be enjoying the music, watching the man play as he did. "That would be lovely at the service even if it is just us," Rutherford said as he wrapped an arm around Millicents shoulder. Taking a small bite she gave a noncommittal sigh. "If you'd rather not, I can decline the invitation." Her eyes shot up and she shook her head.

"No, the music would be a welcome reprieve." Millicents voice was hollow as she spoke but she forced a slight smile.

"Then we will accept," he said and looked towards William and gave an affirmative nod in the mans direction.



The Bristol Ship: No sleep, sleep come dream and dreams cloud the mind, no sleep, no sleep, clear head along the sea. Over the waters and through the seas to the celtic lands we go, the ship knows the way to carry the from the bay through the winds tides and shores. A kilt a kilt a kilt for the ton, you never know when things will be done. Lay the quill to paper and draw the world along, from the horizon to the sky and in the stars in the sky.

A dip of the knees and a raise of the brows, all so fascinating. How he loved the sea and the land and rock and the rock. Oh there would be no sleep this eve for the crazed little German. He was too busy rushing around, looking at this and looking at that. Mumbling to himself as he did. Dieter, his ferret not his brother, was curled up along the back of this neck, trying to nap but perhaps there would be no sleep for him either because the damn world he was riding on, that mighty steed of Ludwig just wouldn't hold still.

The Sea: Regalia sat down and took a sip of her wine. "Friend? Must have know each other a long time to call him as such," she said as she looked over the rim of her glass. "A debt? Well consider yourself debtless with me and mine. We do not work off such notions. One does what one does because they chose to do so. If everyone owed someone something for every good they did, the world would forever be in debt. Do good because it is good, not because it is owed. That makes you someone's property until that debt is paid. And darling, no woman should ever let her be indebted to any man."

Setting the glass down she let a small smile tug at the corner of her lips. "Are you trained? With you land types it is always difficult to tell. Especially these days and with women. I could not imagine trying to fight anyone in thirty layers of skirts and petty coats," she said as the small grin remained on her lips and danced in her eyes.

"Ma yaan u pool tak bejla'e' tuméen u culo in k'áatiko'ob teen wa leti' bin lúubul ka ka'ach juntúul xi'ipal táankelem." Marco laughed as he spoke and handed the rope over to the girl.

"Ba'ax a beetik ya'al le je'elo'?" the girl asked in a questioning voice.

"Chéen jump'éel sentimiento ba'ax in. Kutal asab bey bin yano'ob máak persigue juntúul ko'olele' kex leti'e' ma' tu k'áato'. In wa'alike' creía ti' u jach jump'éel caballero ken ma' leti' ba'a u jump'éel.."

"Ba'ax jump'éel acosador," she said cutting Marco off. Marco glanced over at Fyror came towards them.

"Exactly," he said before resting his arms over the tops of his knees. "Can I help ya?" he asked as the girl chuckled and hopped up. She walked around Fyror and then laughed before walking off whistling to herself. Pulling out a knife and twirling it in her fingers as she did.

Carlisle: Alright girls - your map has been updated.

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Virginia's eyes followed Mary's movements for a moment, watching to see if she would need her to jump in and assist at any moment. Seeing that Mary had it handled, albeit with some slight difficulty, Virginia closed the gap between her and the Ryne directly across from her. Her mind was sharp and focused, her body ready through the use of Nakai to strengthen the endurance of both. With her remaining axe, she swung at the Ryne, decapitating it with ease as it then collapsed to the ground, severed from its head. She then smirked slightly, taking another breath. "Three."

"This does remind me of how my mother taught me my numbers..." Virginia mused. She kept her mind from going back to simpler times, instead remaining sharp and focused on the events occurring around them. A moment's distraction and she might begin her next grand adventure - Death - before she planned. There was only one more Ryne immediately by them at least, and she imagined Mary would deal with it, allowing her to go retrieve her thrown axe. She didn't want to use her weapon's ranged capacity until she had recovered the other. To do so would be to become defenseless against the physical Soulless, as the majority of her skills were meant for the more immaterial.

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"Respectfully, m'lady, I try not ter assume anythin' an' git as much certainty as I can when it comes ter de welfare of me daughter," Maeve answered, keeping eye contact with Lady Kirkpatrick. She could understand the exasperation, and had it been anyone else she was about to send to Rome, Maeve wouldn't have asked. But she just had to have verbal confirmation when it came to her daughter. Roisin was too precious to leave her welfare up to chance. Leaving her with family she trusted was one thing - sending her to Rome was another matter.

She felt relieved to know, though, that she was meeting the man that would be taking care of her daughter. Roisin seemed to be fine from her quick checkover, though her checkover was far from the best one she had ever done in her life. Perhaps Calum was mildly distracting her or just the whirlwind of events that had happened so quickly. "Thank ye, m'lady," Maeve then told Lady Kirkpatrick, nodding and accepting the deal. However, her eyes darted over at Calum for a moment. She still wanted to speak to him - and as much as she felt awful for thinking it, it was helpful at times that Roisin couldn't hear. It allowed her to have more delicate conversations around her daughter, provided Roisin didn't try to read lips.

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Colette thought on Regalia's words carefully. After all, they had an air of truth to them. People should do good because it is their choice and nothing else. Did Fyror save her life because he felt he had to or did he do it purely out of goodness. Now she was doubting him and he had been kind to her. Though, perhaps she was quick to offer allegiance to a man she just met. "You are correct. Of course and how silly of me to say such things. I do not mean I am indebted to him nor would I ever wish to be. That is why I am here. Well, not here, as in this ship, but in this country away from home. To fight for my own independence. For my own choice to decide where and with whom I go."

Regalia asked about her training, which was fortunate as the two subjects connected for her. "Oui, I am trained. I studied in China and was rather fond of it. In these times, it is important to be able to defend oneself. As to your other matter, I find battle in dresses to be a bit difficult, yes, but I feel it is also...what is the word...ironic? You see, a woman dressed in finery is often expected to be just that. Something beautiful to look at, but not much else. Maybe she is able to keep a home, or she can sew, or sing, or dance, but she is there to be paraded around and often looked down on. Now, if the Soulless were to attack, how amazing would it be for this woman, this flower, to wield a blade and kill all around her? I enjoy it for the element of surprise just as much as for its defense."

Cosntantin's attention was suddenly snapped back to Vlad who went on a thankful speech of sorts.” It's both my honor and my duty, Great Bazhooli!” The firewalker replied making a theatrically dramatical bow to Vlad. He vaguely thought if he should take it as some form of cheering up, but then realized that Vlad surely had no idea what was going on in his head, so he had to take it at face value. Which would be words of thanks and he was glad for them dammit! Receiving such thankful words was a reward of the highest order for a job well performed after all. And he also took pride in the fact he was the one Vlad took to accompany him from the circus. After all there are so many others who could have done it. This gave him a lot of pride.

“Of course, I vill join in a little bit.” He replied and sighed, throwing looks around. He really wasn't feeling happy about being on a big boat... He walked on embers dammit, the cold sea was not something he enjoyed at all. He had fear of deep water so it would probably be best to avoid looking at it.' Something happens and I vill turn into vengeful ghost and never let that German have a day of peace... if this goes vrong.' He promised to himself and quickly headed towards the cabin they had reserved after Vlad.

It didn't take long to locate Vlad as he had not wasted too much time, just mere moments after the other man left for their Cabin. Ludwig seemed like he was busy and Constantin had absolutely no plans to pull his attention away from whatever he was doing. Better he stays as far away as possible, yes.