People had gathered upon the hollow grounds. That was all nice, having a sturdy building to protect was way better than be in open fields, but that was under the condition they could protect it of course. Constantin wasn't quite sure how people here protected places like churches or if the holy grounds would even keep the local soulless at bay. There always seemed to be exceptions to every rule.

As he watched Veta focus on the ritual and Vlad conversing briefly with the woman that Veta chased after, Constantin noticed something wrong. The room felt wrong... There was a scent in the air, fire, but the place was free of smoke, unless he couldn't see it through the haze, but he doubted that was the case. Still as his attention was focused, he noticed something, something really bad. There was some kind of existance inside the church. It was big, dark, wrong... hiding in the rafters. He felt like cursing, but didn't. Veta was not to be disrupted from the ritual, but her safety was of greatest importance as well.

A hand tactifully moved over to his weapon, resting on the handle in as casual manner as he could, but he was ready to dash in and protect the Grand Duchess with his life. He moved a few steps about, moving closer to her within acceptable distance, to have the chance to jump in and push her out of the danger if the worst came to shove. In the meanwhile, he looked at Vlad with very serious expression, but didn't speak out, he was afraid of provoking the thing into attack. He hoped his expression was enough of a clue and also slowly looked upwards with his eyes only for a brief moment without moving his head, hoping that Vlad would get the clue.

Still what a bad series of luck they had for a while now. Though he couldn't help, but admit that it was probably not luck. he might be a little paranoid about Veta's safety, but he was almost certain the soulless seemed to be gunning for her for some reason... and maybe hte rest of them as well on the side. He now only hoped the thing didn't act before Veta was done with the ritual.

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The more flamboyant of the Russian's hurried to do the bidding of the Duchess, carrying the corpse to the alter of the church, and William frowned slightly. The Duchess seemed to have assumed the closest thing to the role of a de facto leader for the strange group, and William was hardly about to get in her way. As it stood, at least from his albeit limited perspective, William was the only unknown in the room. The Russians owed apparent allegiance to the Duchess, and Millicent and 'Virginia' were clearly close friends, both seeming to also have some bond with the Duchess. Granted, there was another man who William didn't know, but judging by the way that William overheard him talking to the Duchess, he wielded some authority in his own right. So that left William. His priorities were more convoluted. Survive whatever this unholy haze was, and do what he could to protect Millicent, in that order. And from what he could see, the best chance of fulfilling both of those priorities was staying inside this church.

William took his eyes off the doors of the church for a moment as the flamboyant Russian laid a 'wedding present' at Millicent's feet. It was the first time that William had even thought of the wedding since everything had taken such a dramatic turn. It was the reason that he was even in Gretna Green, but the chance of it happening, and therefore the chance of William getting paid, had plummeted. For now, William would settle with getting out of this town in one piece. Something that had been sitting at the back of William's mind, just in the periphery of his vision, pushed itself to the foreground, and demanded his attention. There was a smell of fire in the air. From where he was standing, he couldn't see anything burning, or even any smoke, but he couldn't deny that the smell of fire still hung there. Was this another side effect of whatever was causing the infernal haze, or was it something even darker?

The doors of the church swung open again, and William's heart leapt into his mouth, readying himself to fight whatever came through, the scent of fire all but forgotten. What stepped through was a vision made flesh. The woman was stunning, golden hair framing an angelic face. William's arm dropped to his side, and he could only watch in awe. Between Millicent, 'Virginia' and this newcomer, William had never seen so much beauty in one room, let alone in a church. He struggled to tear his gaze away, but when he did, he was surprised to see the female companion of Lady Kirkpatrick from earlier. He hadn't expected to see the woman again, least of all here, and yet here she was, gesturing the newcomer towards Millicent. This was only getting stranger, and as William glanced around, he had a feeling it was only going to continue.

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Everything and nothing. It was strange how, when serious changes were afoot, both of those concepts seemed to be present in abundance. The air hung heavily with a hint of smoke, many people gathered inside of the church, the ceremony of purification was taking place. It was a rare gift even inside of the Rusyn skill set, difficult, and dangerous if done improperly. So it was important to ensure an uninterrupted session. Still, with all of the new faces, old faces, and feelings of foreboding hanging in the air, why did things seem so ...off? Nothing was overtly wrong, but everything seemed to point to the opposite of this. Absently, Vladimir drew two of his many knives and began twirling them between his fingers. This haze wasn't helping, either.

The others seemed interested in their own conversations, giving Vlad a rare opportunity to just stand and observe, rather than impress. He was plenty impressive enough as it was, anyway. Besides, legendary performer or not, his role right then was as a guard. A flashy, blade-hurling guard with impressively groomed facial hair.

What he saw was an unusually serous Constantin giving him a stare. Vladimir arched an eyebrow but kept silent, instead giving him a mildly amused expression. He read the sign on his colleague's face. Vlad just wanted to keep everyone at ease for the time being. Noting the direction in which the Firewalker darted his eyes, he also gave nonchalant and natural observation in that general direction, hopefully to see what he man was looking so grim about. Just his luck, there was a member of the Soulless population or political assassin hiding somewhere nearabouts that was in dire need of a vigorous, knifepoint Bazhooli-ing. Rather that a call to arms, he cast his gaze surreptitiously to see what he could see, ever standing observant watch over his Grand Duchess.

Gretna Green (Church): Millicent unwrapped what Vlad had given her. Within the scarf she found things she was not expecting: A Dao (Chinese style sword), sheath for sword attached to belt, single shot pistol, 3 throwing knives, sheath for knives attached to left thigh, pocket telescope, pocket watch, a lock pick set, and a wallet. Within the wallet she found money, keys, and an id. It was for the man she had met the night of the attack at Almack's, whom fought beside her. Looking up quickly her jaw went slightly slack. If these things were here she could only assume it meant he was dead. She would ask, perhaps, later, now was not the time. Nor the time to ask why these were given to her. Yet she was not about to turn down weapons. Taking the sword and sheath she wrapped the belt around her waist over her dress and fastened it. Pulling her skirt up, she attached the thigh belt with knives and tucked her own weapon at the opposite side of the belt. The rest she slipped into the pockets of her dress. (Dresses with pockets, how wonderful they were during this time. All dresses should have pockets!!!!)

Looking at Virginia she quirked a brow. "It seems we have much to catch up on and stories to trade. Things have been terribly odd as of late and I am rather vexed on the matters. Though, just seeing you again Virginia helps, you are more strength in just your presence than I could ask for. Reminding me of some I had forgotten." Turning her head as others entered the church Millicent tilted her head to the side. "What brings you here Miss?" she asked quickly of Maeve. "Is the Lady Kirkpatrick alright?"

Veta stood before Ludwig, a hand on two relics from the church, a cross and a chalice that were resting beside the body. Then she began, chanting something in Russian it seemed. Simple enough to begin, like a prayer it seemed the way she kept her head lowered and her hand resting on relics. The longer she prayed, the more still she became, as if she was turning to stone as she spoke. As the seconds ticked away it seemed like nothing was going to happen until suddenly from beneath her fingers the chalice began to bubble over with what looked like blood and the cross seemed to bleed and what looked like a holy white lighted manifestation of death with a scythe erupted and joined above Ludwig. It looked with darkness as eyes towards each in the room. It's eyes turned to each person in turn, looking at them before a banshee like screech came from the wispy lighted figure as he flew up and roamed around the room as if searching, like a blood hound on the trail.

A darkness started to form in one of the pews at the front of the church, looking like a shadowy figure of the man that lay before them, a long rope like shadow connecting the two. Swooping in the Ostanavlivat'sya charged the rope which tried to wrap itself around the Ostanavlivat'sya but it was quicker and within minutes of carefully executed movements another wail came but this time from the body of Ludwig as the rope was cut. The shadow of Ludwig freezing in place before its darkness turned to light and then it vanished. The Ostanavlivat'sya swept the room again, stopping in the rafters for a moment before flying back towards Ludwig and splitting over him and seeping back into the relics which still had Elizaveta's hands over them, her voice still praying as it did. It was not until the light was gone and the blood was gone did Elizaveta stop and look up, a long breath escaping her lips.

Millicent watched in wonder, she had never seen anything like it. What was the woman doing? Why was no one stopping her? Her eyes darted to Virginia and then to William. Ny walked forward slowly. "Oh my, yes, Ostanavlivat'sya. Remarkable. Death paused and yet she calls death to come take the soul, see how it cuts the life's thread? Oh yes, just like fates of old. Splendid!." Veta felt weak and her knees began to give away, she was going to fall. Up in the rafters the smell grew as dark tendrils that were hard to tell if they were solid or smoke wrapped around them like fingers. It was watching. Vlad and Constantin would see this, Constantin would be able to move quickly to get Veta before she collapsed. There was a deep guttural growl that came from the rafters now. Millicents eyes went upward and she gasped as her hand went to the hilt of the sword she was given.

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Colette rested herself against the carriage seat as they began to move again. Her anticipation growing now as they moved onward. Soon, they had reached their destination. Maeve offered her exit first and Colette got out, allowing herself a moment to stretch her legs. She glanced around, admiring the sights. Gretna Green was beautiful, in its own way. Though she vastly preferred cities with life, she could see herself as she got older, with a husband and children, moving to a peaceful countryside town and living there.

But that would have to wait. Years most likely. And she had other matters to attend to, such as when Maeve pointed out someone. And Colette finally saw Millicent. She recognized her instantly. Maeve was already walking towards them and Colette followed shortly after, reaching them as they entered the church. Unconcerned with any weapons shown (she had her own in the folds of her dress), she came upon Millicent as she stood next to Maeve. ”Lady Millicent, it is good to see you again. I had help getting here, as you can see and there is much to discuss. Where is Lord Rutherford?” She glanced around, not seeing the man. Instead, she saw a few others she recognized. Wondering why they were here.

Before introductions could begin proper, she heard a guttural, animalistic noise. She noted Millicent reaching for her sword. ”What was that?” It was unlike anything she had heard before. She reached for her own weapon. This trip has been adventurous thus far.

It's been some time since Constantin last had seen an execution of the Ostanavlivat'sya. He looked at Veta who was performing her skill, his expression still serious as he stood not too far away from her, waiting to jump in at a moment's notice. The skill in action did not surprise him, after all he had seen it before, but he didn't have much time to spare to observe the reactions of hte others. He knew where his enemy was after all. With a huge piece of his attention spend on Veta and the rest on protecting her from the bastard in the rafters, he had no free to spare to anyone else right now. Still he felt better, having drawn Vlad's attention to the enemy as well. Two protectors were better than one.

As the ritual concluded, Veta appeared to be very fatigued from it. At the slightest signs that her legs were about to give out, Constantin dived in for her. He moved over to her and helped her out to not fall over, taking a protective position between her and the thing in the rafters, thing that began acting ever more loud right now. It was growling like a common beast, but the firewalker knew that it certainly was not. The fact it made a sound, meant it was preparing to make it's move. He wasn't the only one who knew of it's existance now. As for his intial thought that the church might be a place to hold up and defend, it went away right now. This thing had entered the church in advance presumably. Maybe outside was actually safer than it was here right now. In either case it was his duty now to protect her with his life! Holding onto her, his eyes darted for the exit of the church for a moment.

It all depended on what happens now. He suspected the thing would probably attack soon or at the moment one of them attempts to run away or show a weakness. Currently out of all around, he was hte only one holding onto a fatigued woman who nearly fell over. This put both Veta in grave danger. He was resolute though." Ve should leave church... nov." Constantin said out with low, but serious voice, completely ready to try to defend Veta whom he was now helping. Still he had utmost trust in Vlad and his ability to provide them with assistance should the thing attacks him and Veta. He himself was ready to block any attack with his body until his life gave away, should no other option was present.

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Virginia observed the weapons that Millicent received and smiled with approval. While some people preferred to be gifted gold and jewels, she found that instruments of death and war were ever the superior a gift. There had definitely been times as a small girl that she had begged her father and mother for some new instrument of torture - insisting that it would be a family bonding experience - only to be told to wait for her birthday. "Dear Millicent, you are stronger than you could possibly know," Virginia reassured her friend. As the ginger and the blonde entered the Church, Virginia observed that Millicent seemed to recognize the pair. It could have been from any number of places, so she didn't make any assumptions as to how recent the acquaintance was.

She then saw something remarkable. As if the Dark Mother herself had decided to manifest within the confines of the Church, Virginia saw a specter appear with a scythe. Its dark eyes met hers and Virginia met the creature's gaze without fear. Death did not scare her - when she died, she would move onto another plane of existence and have even more adventures. She feared death only for her brother, as she wanted him to be able to grow and learn and thrive here on this world - to prepare him to step further into the darkness in the next. Virginia flinched slightly at the ungodly shriek, tempted to hold her ears but like a child seeing Father Christmas, she was transfixed. "Have you ever seen something so enchanting?" Virginia asked Millicent with a wide smile.

However, she saw Millicent's eyes going upwards and Virginia followed her gaze, seeing the monstrous thing up in the rafters as she pulled her axes, ready for a fight. It was obviously a supernatural being - it seemed to be the direct counter to the Ostanavlivat'sya that Elizaveta performed. "So much for idle talk," Virginia lamented. It was time to resume the fight. She ignored the person who wanted to leave the Church. In her experience, a creature like this would find them again - and where would they even run to?

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She was moderately annoyed that Colette instantly interjected into the conversation, but Maeve knew she would have been annoyed too if Colette hadn't done that. Her job was to see to it that Colette located Millicent - and then to discretely gather what information she could to bring back to the Lady Kirkpatrick. "Aye, de Lady Kirkpatrick is well. I was sent ter accompany Lady Colette 'ere," Maeve told Millicent, forgetting for a moment Colette's surname. It then came back to her - de la Fontaine. Oh well, Lady Colette was sufficient enough for her. She doubted Colette would take an issue with it, since she seemed to be relatively down to earth, if not naive.

However, things were hardly calm. They had seen a horrifying sight on the way here and now there was a growl from the rafters. She drew her shillelagh, getting into a fighting position and ready to fight whatever came their way. The entire experience with the prayers someone was doing was unsettling to say the least and Maeve hadn't seen anything like any of this. It could have been some sort of dark witchcraft or something that was going on - it certainly was nothing she had seen when she trained in Ireland and she had never heard of anything like this. "What de 'ell is going' on 'ere?" Maeve demanded, a bit of fire in her eyes. She had a daughter to survive for.

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Millicent had apparently caught sight of the newcomers as well, and William heard her asking after Lady Kirkpatrick. In truth, the thought of the old woman hadn't even crossed William's mind, but that was largely because he struggled to imagine the Lady Kirkpatrick not being 'alright'. In fact, William wouldn't be surprised if she outlived them all. His train of thought was derailed as he glanced across at Millicent. Was it possible that she was more attractive now that she had a sword hanging at her hip? And if she was, what did that say about William? Trying to shake the thought from his head, he turned back to the church doors in time to see the blonde newcomer step forward, clearly recognizing Millicent. Not only that, but she asked after Lord Rutherford, and William felt a chill run down his spine. The man... William stopped himself. He struggled to call Rutherford a 'man', but he didn't have the knowledge to know what to call him instead, so he settled for the simplistic. That 'thing' was still out there somewhere, and William hoped he had seen the last of Lord Rutherford.

A rush of movement from the front of the church caught William's attention, and when he turned towards the alter, his jaw dropped. He was riveted in place as he watched the surreal 'Danse Macabre' between a specter, seemingly Death itself, and a shadowy figure that William half recognized as the corpse that still lay at the feet of the Duchess. The ethereal scream seemed to freeze the very blood in William's veins, and it wasn't until the light had faded away that William could bring himself to move, looking around wildly. He caught Millicent's eye, just for an instant, but it didn't look like she had any more idea about what had happened than he did. A voice that William didn't recognise seemed almost thrilled at what they had all just witnessed, but William's every nerve was still on edge. When he heard Millicent gasp, he instinctively followed her gaze upwards.

What he saw surprised William, because he didn't see anything. Old rafters crossed the church roof and cast shadows across the roof itself, but as far as William could see, that was it. He frowned as he looked back to Millicent, unsure whether he should question her, only to see that she had gripped the hilt of her newly-acquired sword. The pale woman, 'Virginia', was looking upwards as well, and pulling out a pair of dark axes. William's confusion was only growing, and as he looked around at the others, to see if they had also been swept up in this apparent madness, he was slight reassured. He heard one of the Russian's suggest they leave the church, but the two women still by the doorway seemed to share William's confusion, the Irish woman from earlier demanding to know what was going on, while the blonde reaching for something, presumably a weapon, as she also called for an explanation. William opened his mouth to echo them, but some instinct dragged William's gaze upwards for a second time. Maybe there was something in the shadows... Something he'd missed the first time...

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There was awe, and just a hint of an adventurous grin on the face of The Great Bazhooli. He had duty to the Grand Duchess, this was for certain, but there were some moments that he truly lived for, freely and without abandon. This was one such moment. To ply his trade; not that of a performer, but the services he and his people did for the Russian Empire under the guise of mere entertainers. But there was nothing mere about Vladimir Dmitrievich Alexandrov, first heir of Baron Alexandrov and this generation's Great Bazhooli. And to ply said trade amid onlookers? Ah, such rapturous, wonderous bliss of blade dancing, flying knives, and an audience.

The thing which grasped his attention, even more than his own histrionics, was the action of the summoned Ostanavlivat'sya. The spiritual force recognized the dark and tendrilly thing in the rafters and bid it as much attention as anyone else in the room. That was interesting beyond generally accepted belief, especially considering the dangerous nature of Veta's summoning. "NO!" boomed his cultured, Russian accented voice, the air of showy assertiveness and Cossack masculinity radiating from him as almost a visible aura. His teeth were bared. Was it a genuine grin, or combative defiance against an enemy? Who was to say? He was The Great Bazhooli. It was all that needed to be known of him, for it spoke tales of generations. "Ve do not run." A person looking on might see the glint of vitality in his eyes that only appeared in a man facing his own mortality with a smile. And it was official, Vladimir was smiling.

He glanced around to the others in the church with him. None of the others were Circus except for Constantin the Firewalker and Veta with her obvious Training, but he could tell they were all able fighters in their own right. "Ve dance... Ve dance the Dance of the Living, embracing it as ve must embrace Oblivion vhen ve are called to her! In face of Death, ve celebrate Life! Elizaveta!" His eyes remained on the thing poised in the rafters. He needed to see something about it with the Trained eyes of a Rusyn warrior, even as a battle loomed like an ambush predator. "Sing for me please a Татушка₁, Your Grace," he called to his Grand Duchess, effecting a wide-stanced bow with his arms out to his sides. This was his life and breath. "Sing, and let us rejoice," he growled, adopting the dangerous glare of a man capable of great violence.

Let no man say he lived a colorless life, nor that he did not have panache.

Gretna Green (Church): Millicent didn't know what she was seeing or what was going on but having Virginia there with her put her at ease, as much as she could be right then. Her friend that had calming effect on her. The fact that a new friend also decided to show up was a bonus in her book. Taking a deep breath she kept her eyes on the rafters and parted her lips. "I ran, his face, it changed. It was as if it was a candle made of wax and began to melt," she said towards Colette about Rutherford. It was truth, as far as she knew. "A face I hope to never see again," she added. "I know not what is happening." She didn't have a clue but Virginia seemed to be happy to see whatever it was that the Grand Duchess was dealing with. Tilting her head to the side she nodded. "You truly find beauty in the most unlikely of places my friend. If only to see the world through your eyes," she chuckled. Virginia had her own ways and Millicent was never one to have a problem with them.

"Ah! HA! Yes, wonderful, truly stunning! Death plays us all like a puppet on a string and yet she just called death. Oh yes, fine fine, lovely," Ny chimed in. He seemed to be having as much fun with all this as Virginia was. "But yes, enough idle talk," he agreed with Virginia as he reached into his pocket. "I do believe it shall only chase us should we run." The streets last known to some had a man with a face melting and people running amok. (AMOK AMOK AMOK!) At least this was holy ground. But did that matter?

The Thing in the rafters seemed to crack the rafters but it did not attack, not yet at least. Yet it did move. Leaping down and landing against the stain glass window at the back of the church behind the alter. Veta's head whipping around and following it as Constantine made plea to leave, he would be able to stay on top of things this round and thankfully for William, this creature was beyond not being noticed at this point. Veta was about to speak against leaving when Vlad spoke. That was her uncle for you. Ever ready to face anything, with flair of course, and perhaps even on fire. "Yes, ve stay, ve fight," she agreed as she slowly pushed herself up. She was wobbling but thankfully Constantine was with her and she leaned against him. Straightening herself she looked at Vlad and nodded. He had an idea and she was picking up on it. "Da! Tatushka and Mamushka. Vlad, Chteniye Dushi," she called to him. It was a chance to learn something. Looking towards Constantine she rested a hand on his shoulder. "He must have my full focus, you vill have to protect me," she told him. Yes she could do other things while she performed the Tatushka but if she did nothing but focus it would do so much more for Vlad and he was the one that would have to get close.

Taking a step forward, Elizaveta stood perfectly still and let out a long breath before her lips parted and she began to sing a song from back home. "₁Iz med ju nas, iz med ju ne ba. Uviyek gori vatra lyubavi. Dusha u syayu, puna snage, vyechni plam. Nada u budutye, novi dan. Kad bi svi lyudi tsiyelog sviyeta. Znali da dyetsi treba mir. Dusha u igri, puna snage, u slobodi. Nada u budutyi miran san. Let ye let, i pad ye let 'C'est la vie, mon ami' U syayu ye liniya neba i nas. Tuga sviyeta ne gori, neka lyubav se vodi. I pad ye let, naday se, mon ami. U dalyini vidim mirno more. Vriyeme proshlo, vriyeme budutye. Nebo puno syaya od pogleda, vyechni plam. Spomyen dyetinystva i miran san. Kad bi svi lyudi tsiyelog sviyeta. Znali da dyetsi treba mir. Dusha u igri, puna snage, u slobodi. Nada u budutyi miran san. Kad se pada, postoyi nada. 'C'est la vie, mon ami' Sve tye to jednom prekriti sniyeg. Moya dusha ne gori, neka vyechnost se rodi, Let ye let, i pad ye let, mon ami. I pad ye let, naday se, mon ami. It would have the desired effect, (As Veta rolled an 18 for the Tatushka.) and Vlad will be able to perform a Mamuska like he never has before. (For Vlad pulled the Nat 20.)

"Just think fighting it outside on the vide would be better, hard to move in here." Constantin replied, but nodded at Vlad and evenutally Veta's words of not retreating. He readied his sword in full attention at the creature. What manner of unearlthy abomination was this!? He really didn't like the fact it showed up here and now. This was just continuing the trend of yet another weird soulless appear around Veta. Her safety was becoming harder to ensure, but it was his duty non the less." As per your vishes!" He said resolutely. If the Bazhooli and Veta said to fight it here, god was his witness, he was going to fight the thing here in the church dammit!.

"It be my eternal joy and honor!" Constantin replied to Veta's request for his protection while Vlad was busy focusing. He knew how it worked, for the time he was going to be her shield and dammit he was going to protect her like a man possessed if he had to. With a step he moved to take sure stance in front of the Grand Duchess. There was only a small thing he wasn't pleased with. They were the closest to the being after all. It was like the world and all the soulless in specific were targetting the woman behind him. Also this thing had a really damn penchant for drama and theatrical entrance, didn't it?" Of all places for it to go dovn at, it had to be the altar." He spoke lightly aloud, eyes narrowing at the thing." At least it's got a sense to make a decent entrance." He added.

He was ready, stance was taken, weapon was steadied and eyes were focused on the beast. He could hear Veta's voice behind himself. All that was needed from now on was a really simple thing: To protect her with his life if he had to! They finally found her again, alive and well. She wasn't going to be anything else while he still drew breath and was near her.

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Millicent's words had a striking imagery to them, and while they would have inspired fear and disgust in most, Virginia found the description to be most enchanting. "I must say, it sounds as if his visage was much approved then," she told her friend. She did not say it to make light of her clear distress when facing Rutherford and his melted form, but she would not lie either. The condition and its circumstances ignited Virginia's curiosity. If they were to encounter him, she would aid Millicent in covering her eyes or whatever was needed, while Virginia could then inspect the horrific yet wondrous sight. She smiled slightly as Millicent made the comment about the way she saw the world. "Perhaps one day you will see the world as I do," she said, once more meaning it as a compliment and not a slight.

She heard the Russians planning to perform a Mamushka. Elizaveta had told her about how the Mamushka was a trained skill, even mentioning that Virginia and her brother could learn the bond between Mamushka and Tatushka in order to increase their deadliness as they worked together. She had heard Vlad before threaten to dance the Mamushka while wearing the skin of some poor creature that had upset him. Yes, she had not seen a Mamushka in combat before but based on what Elizaveta had told her before, it would make a deadly pair of the two Russians.

"This creature is like nothing I have seen before. Should physical attacks fail, I will combat it in the astral form," she informed Millicent and the others near her quickly. "Those who do not wish to fight, please either leave or remain here in the back," she then advised calmly, before Virginia walked forward down the aisle, twirling her axes lightly in her hands. "Veliona, Dark Mother, I call upon you for strength and clarity," Virginia said softly, in a manner not dissimilar to a prayer. "I call upon my fallen sisters and brothers, the Veles, for their knowledge and wisdom as I wade into this darkness."

To die here in battle against this unknown foe? It would be a fitting end.

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No one seemed to know what was going on here and only Millicent bothered to answer her question. Even more bizarrely, one of the women up at the front of the Church started to sing and Maeve had to wonder if she was daft or just insane. What was singing going to do against whatever dark beast was there? She had no idea what was going on in this place, but her instincts told her similarly that running was going to be useless. This thing was going to catch up to them eventually and with the news of Ireland being overrun with Soulless, Maeve figured that there wouldn't be a lot of safe places to run to soon enough. How long until Scotland was overrun too, especially if they let this thing live?

The pale girl was evidently pagan and Maeve's eyes narrowed as she walked forward. With her extreme pale skin, she seemed like a Soulless. Millicent seemed to be rather attached to her, making Maeve wonder if she really was safe or if Millicent's judgment had been compromised after seeing Rutherford's face melt as she described. At any rate, Maeve felt that Millicent and Colette were the only two here she really cared to see to live. The others could die against this foe and she would go to sleep without any trouble. Though if Colette and Millicent died, she wouldn't lose too much sleep over it. "I could try ter unearth a Celtic site, see if that'll give us any additional protecshun?" Maeve suggested to those in the back of the Church. She didn't know how to fight this creature or what would be effective against it, so rushing off with her shillelagh didn't make much sense.

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When the shadow dropped from above, William stopped listening to the conversations of those around him. He didn't question how he had missed it the first time, he didn't think about the other's reactions, it was pure instinct that drove his motions. He took a few steps, his eyes never leaving the creature as he placed himself between the shadow and Millicent, and then he reached slowly over his shoulder, and pulled his Kopis from it's sheath across his back. In his right hand, he held a Dirk birthed from the finest forges in Europe, the same Dirk that he had taken from his father's dying hand, the same Dirk that had been driven through countless blackened hearts. And in his left hand, William held something that was all at once both newer and older. The design of the kopis had been drawn from the pages of antiquity, but the blade had been forged in the East less than a decade past, and William was yet to encounter a creature, man or beast that it could not split open.

The creature was still at the far end of the church, seeming to enjoy it's dramatic entrance as it lurked over the alter. The Russian's stood together, closest to it, while the other's within the church were still gathered by the door. William's every muscle was ready for action, but what happened next threw him off entirely. Through the subdued silence that had descended after the creature leapt from above, there came a voice. There came a song. It was hauntingly beautiful, unlike anything William had ever heard, and he could only watch, awestruck, as the Duchess seemed to sing towards the creature itself. William could hear his violin hum along to the tune, crying out to be freed from the case that William had slung over his shoulder. He had spent his life with music flowing through his veins just as surely as blood, and the song that came from the lips of the Duchess seemed to hold more power than any mere tune, almost as if witchcraft was weaved between the notes, and it made William's every hair stand on end.

'Virginia' passed him, moving towards the creature and calling out in a foreign language, but William barely noticed. The music... The music was bewitching. Somehow, William managed to tear his gaze away, just for a moment, as he glanced at the group that was still left at the back of the church. The stranger stood nearby, and William still didn't know what to make of the man who seemed to be enjoying their situation quite so much, but his face was intact, and if the Duchess seemed to trust him, then that was good enough for William. For now at least. Millicent seemed to have shaken off her fear, and William was sure that she knew how to use the weapons she was now armed with. That left the two newest arrivals. The Irishwoman presumably could handle herself, William had first met her in the middle of a bloodbath after all, and even as he thought about it, she suggested finding protection, seemingly to the room in general. So she was trained at least, William was sure to make a mental note of that. He had already irked her once, he didn't intend on making a habit of it. The blonde, William next to nothing about, he didn't even have a name. She didn't appear to be armed, but William was careful not to inspect her too closely. He didn't know if she could handle herself in a fight, but considering the world they lived in, William doubted she would be completely defenseless.

William turned back to the developing scene at the front of the church, and his brow furrowed. His heart seemed to yearn to stride forward and put his body on the line so that the music would not be stopped, his violin humming, urging him forwards, but William had not survived as a wanderer for as long as he had by following every whim of his heart. He knew he wasn't a fighter, he was under no illusion of that. His training had been to survive, and he had done well in that regard so far. Charging headlong towards whatever that creature was, not even knowing if his blades could make a dent, may well have made a good story, but William didn't want to make a story he wouldn't be around to tell. He looked back at the strange group, and made his decision, managing half a smile as he spoke.

"It's no good running, there could be more of these things waiting for us. Besides, there's strength in numbers."

He turned to the Irishwoman now, nodding his head slightly as he spoke again.

"Please do, ma'am. It would be greatly appreciated."

With that, he turned back towards the creature itself, taking a deep breath as he readied himself for whatever would be unleashed next. He hoped that those who pushed forwards would be able to handle the creature, but if they broke, or the creature decided to try and prey on softer targets, William would be waiting for it.

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Colette could not quite grasp Millicent’s words. Lord Rutherford’s face had melted? What did that mean? Was he killed by a Soulless who had melted his face or was it something…more? Perhaps now was not the time to ask such questions as it seems they had a battle on their hands coming soon. Colette took out the Lamga she had. It would not due in this battle as it was more of a defensive weapon. And she doubted her martial arts skills would be even more useful. Millicent seemed to have some more weapons on her though (really, this woman could carry quite the amount on her!). ”Lady Millicent, if I could be so bold, is it possible to borrow a weapon from you. I currently only possess a Lamga, and as I am sure you know that, while a useful weapon, it does not do well in this type of situation. I will take whatever you have, but if you have a flexible weapon on you, that would be ideal.”

While awaiting an answer (and perhaps a new weapon), she surveyed the scene. She didn’t know many of the others here, but it seemed they were all on the same side facing off against whatever creature was in front of them. The number of things she saw on this trip that she had not faced before was slowly rising. It would make for an interesting letter to her brother later.

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The man named Vladimir Alexandrov at birth had spent more decades upon the living world than the others in the church in that moment. It showed in small ways; lines around his eyes that he occasionally penciled black, his chestnut hair had a streak of grey every now and again, and some mornings he needed a little longer than others to really get himself started. He was not a young soldier in the war against the Soulless anymore. However, he had tuned his body through rigorous training to demand more from himself than most. He had maturity, yes. It was a weapon he grasped with pride, one of many. Not a liability.

More simply put, he was The Great Bazhooli.

If one did not know what that meant, it was nothing. A flashy title for a circus performer. If one did know, truly know the meaning of this, it was the world.

The darkest moment in many people's lives stood in front of The Great Bazhooli, casting a shadow of fear by its mere presence, the impassioned Russian gazed upon it; upon the draining shade of Death itself, and smiled. He snapped his fingers in front of himself and set one hand upon the brim of his very tall and dignified hat, the other on the lapel of his great coat. He tilted his head to the side slightly, eyes gleaming with joyous anticipation, began to move into a low stance, and uttered a single word in English:

"Begin."

The first notes of Veta's song surged through him like the gift of pure, undiluted life itself, filling him with the essence of his people going back past the beginning of his line or his title. There was only one appropriate way to utilize the awesome power filling every inch and particle of him - he must dance. The dance worthy of a Great Bazhooli in the face of cold expiration could only be, as scholars of the lore and those of the extended bloodline might attest, a Mamushka. A dance commemorating life that, ironically, if practiced in its most unblemished way caused the death of those who would stand against him. One cannot have one without the other, and both were worthy of celebration.

The Great Bazhooli's flung his hands upward even as he spun into the first steps of the Mamushka, his coat and hat lending neatly (the coat damn near folded properly and the hat perched atop) on the church pew next to him. He placed a hand upon the back of the next pew up and vaulted over it, spinning once in the air and landing almost in a kneeling position. Though they were not there when he started the leap, the telltale glint of sharpened steel extended from either hand, taken from among the many, many blades upon his person that his coat had concealed from view.

The golden, soulful music carried him forward, its volume and speed seeming to increase with the rate of his heart, like they were connected in glorious harmony. He was about to enter into combat, armed with knives, against a demon. Life was amazing. The Great Bazhooli leapt, he flipped, he spun; he took to acrobatics both ground based and aerial with the vigor of a man much younger - more than a man much younger. And as the steps to the dance became more complicated, he became faster and faster. More accurate of step. Fatigue seemed to leave him the more he gave himself to the music of the Grand Duchess and danced the Mamushka. He embodied the physical manifestation of the union of flesh and spirit - He was agility. He was accuracy. He was stamina and speed personified. Vladimir was truly the fullest expression of The Great Bazhooli he had ever been at that moment; the most in tune with the forces that made them all who they were, back to the beginning.

He was OVER NINE THOUSAND.

The dance was obviously a thing adapted for glorious and flashy combat, which he threw himself into wholeheartedly. Yet the object was not to kill this loathsome thing immediately, no. It was to read it, as a sculptor reads a block of stone or lump of clay, that they may see what lurked within, waiting to be revealed by taking it apart piece by piece. What he knew already, or at least suspected, was that despite the whispy, shadow-like appearance, it was capable of putting weight upon the beam enough to make it crack and groan. And it landed on the floor of the church, after affecting a leap. These were the qualities of a corporeal, tactile being. But now was time to learn more. The Great Bazhooli leapt impossibly high into an aerial cartwheel across the front of the creature, locking his eyes onto it while he was fully upside down. The fraction of a second that he was able to make mental connection with the beast was all he needed.

Profound surprise slammed into him. His Mamushka was reinforced by the Grand Duchess, and he had an amazing inner reserve of Bazhooli-ness, otherwise he might have lost his step. Still dancing, still twirling his blades and whipping his body about like a dervish possessed, he spoke directly to the thing in front of them. It was boisterous. It was powerful. It was Great. "YOU ...have a Soul." The way he said it heavily implied that there was much more to say on the matter. Soul or not, if this was a thing that wished to destroy them, he would not kneel. No, Vlad would not submit. He would conquer. He would rise. His name was Vladimir Dmitrievich Alexandrov, and he had seen Evil. He had seen Horror. He had seen the Unholy Maggots which feasted in the dark recesses of the human soul. He had seen all this, but until today, Vlad had never seen THAT.

Gretna Green (Church): Millicent looked over towards Colette and shook her head. She didn't have anything like that. She had the sword she was gripping, another weapons sure but it was the same that Colette was carrying. Then she had an idea. Reaching under her skirt she pulled out one of the throwing daggers she had just been gifted from Vlad. It was evenly weighted and had a finger grip at the end. Handing it over she pointed to one of the curtains, more specifically the rope used to tie it back into place. "Rope dart, would that work?" she asked. It could, easily. Millicent wasn't trained in Kung Bafa but she knew of the skill and had seen others train in the skill when she herself was training in China. It would be a make shift weapon but that was the beauty of it. The Rope dart was meant to be one that could be easily made and concealed. The whole was greater than the parts.

Veta finished her song and looked towards Constantin. She could not carry the song another round. Not after putting so much to ensure that Ludwig was not turned into a soulless. "Front rov have best seats," she teased. At least she hadn't lost her sense of humor, or maybe she had as it was probably not the best time for her to be cracking jokes. Especially since once Vlad read the creature and discovered it had a soul, the created cried out, like a demon and one of its dark whisps that might be an arm moved, landing against the Russians chest and sent him flying across the room and crashing into one of the pews. "Vlad!" she yelled as she stumbled to her feet and rested back against the alter. Her eyes narrowing as her hands rose. "Vyzov," she uttered under her breath, calling on aide from elsewhere.

The creature though was not paying attention to Veta. Its eyes, or what might be thought of as eyes, turned towards Virginia. It jumping down from the back of the church and landing against the front pews, they splintered and cracked and shattered under the weight. Wisps of the black and darkness turning red. Virginia is ready for it and has rolled well this round, as did William. Constantine will be able to deflect the splintering wood from hitting Veta this round. Ny reaches into his his jacket and pulled out a small dagger. He throws it towards the creature but misses. Taking a step to the left, he makes a gesture with his hand and it returns, tearing through one of the creatures limbs before landing back in Ny's hand. The creature looks like it is about to charge.

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The song seemed to tug on William's soul, calling him towards it's source, but William kept his ground. He had drawn his line in the sand, and he wasn't going to cross it on a whim. Besides, if they all made it out of this mess, then there was a chance he'd be able to hear the Duchess sing again. Whereas if they died in this church, then the world would be robbed of the music. The very thought almost hurt William, like a pang in his heart, and the humming from his violin faltered. He could charge forwards to try and protect the music, or he could stay where he was and live to hear music again, any music. He had subconsciously been biting his lip as this internal conflict raged, but the taste of blood in his mouth seemed to shake him out of it.

William could half-hear a conversation going on behind him, but his attention was focused on the creature, watching it's every move as he tried to comprehend the threat before them. But even as he tried to look at it, it seemed to shift, making it impossible to identify it, even if William had ever encountered anything like it before, which he hadn't. It was as if the very fabric of the creature was formed from the same haze that still clung to the world all around him. A thought reared it's head at the back of William's mind, that this creature could be the source of that haze, or another side-effect of the haze, but William didn't have time for those questions. Not while the creature still stood.

A flurry of movement caught William's eye, and he watched in awe as the flamboyant Russian leapt through the air, spinning and flipping with an agility that William had never seen before. It was as majestic and entrancing as the music that accompanied it, and to William, it appeared to be some type of dance, the notes of the song weaving with the movements. William was too stunned to question the sense of dancing in front of such a creature, but the flash of steel that he saw in the Russian's hands as he moved through the air suggested that this was something not simply for entertainment. The purpose was beyond William though. Just another thing about the Russian's that bewildered William.

As quickly as it had sprung up, the music ended, and William couldn't help but frown slightly at the loss. His frown only deepened when he noticed that for all his flips, the Russian didn't seem to have actually done anything. He wasn't the only one to notice the lull, and for the first time, the creature moved. And it moved fast. One arm... William stopped himself. He didn't know what the creature was, let alone what to call it's body parts, but the wispy shape that slammed into the Russian's chest, and sent him sailing across the church, certainly looked like an arm, so William settled for that. The Duchess cried out as her compatriot's trajectory was abruptly halted by one of the church pews, but William didn't have time to look away to check on him, as the creature was already moving again.

It leapt through the air, and landed on the front pews itself, the wood splintering under it's weight. William struggled to follow it's movements, eyes straining as his grip on his weapons tightened. Not only did it move with an unnatural speed, but every-time he tried to focus on it, it's form seemed to shift, the black seeming to merge with red in places, and the darkness seeming to draw in the light around it. Whatever this creature was, it seemed to ooze ungodly power. It barely seemed phased by the fact it was on hallowed ground. A flash of silver flew past William, and past the creature, and William dared to look away from the creature for a moment to see the strange man that had seemed so cheery earlier, had taken a step towards the creature. A flick of the man's wrist, and the silver flashed back, a dagger returning to his hand, and tearing through the creature's form as it did.

The creature didn't fall though. In fact, the creature barely seemed to notice. William didn't know what the creature was, but he knew wild animals, and he knew what an animal about to charge looked like. He didn't turn to look back at the others, William simply moved, very slowly, trying not to make any sudden movements, so that he was standing squarely between the creature and where Millicent had been standing when he had last looked at her. When he spoke, his voice was low and steady.

"Whatever weapon you have, get ready to use it."

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"Or so I'm always told." Constantin replied with a half smile half grin at Veta's joking remark. It was nice to hear she had the freedom to crack jokes at this point. Sadly the creature was certainly not in the mood for jokes. Just as Vlad had realized the creature had a soul and vocalized that fact in his typical loud manner, the creature apparently decided that it was only fair it does something to him in return. The following scream of the Grand Duchess very well mirrored, Constantin's inner shout as the very loud Russian man was flung or rather slammed across the church. The thing apparently had a mighty physical attack. The firewalker was wondering of some wisps of darkness can cause that, or something else was being hidden by those.

Never the less he kept his vigil around Veta like his life depended on it. Vlad was a big man who can take care of himself. A mighty mighty Russian like him wouldn't fall from a single strike. It took more than a strike! He had utmost confidence in the Bazhooli's sturdiness. The creature then decided to move, causing quite the devastation as it did." VETA!" Constantin shouted as he lunged in front of her yet again, using himself and his weapon to block the sharpness of splinters that were thrown from the creature's landing on top of the wooden furniture of the church. He managed to deflect them from hitting her, his face was stern, observing it." Alright it's got lots of veight ..." He commented, having witnessed the devastation in it's wake." If it got veight, it's corporeal, if it's got a body, the body can be hacked apart." Many soulless didn't quite die from being hacked apart, but it would give them a cause for pause at least.... probably. He saw one of the men in the church toss a dagger and then make it curve in flight, hitting the creature in return, cutting off an appendage. The thing did not seem happy. He was willing to bed it was going to attack now. He firmed his stance in front of Veta.

"Got anything to toss at the big vindovs?" He said to Veta behind himself." Vonder hov it reacts to real sunlight in that form... or fire." He mentioned. It got dark wisps surrounding it, making it look like shadow. When you need to see in the dark, you use light. He was ready to block for Veta still though. She was going to need the protection for a little while yet.

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Speaking in Arre-Catte Waho, Virginia said: "I do not fear you. I am Virginia Margaret Crypt, follower of the Dark Mother Veliona. Who are you?" Her axes were at the ready and she was practicing the skill of Nakai, allowing her mind and body to be strengthened for the potential fight to follow. Yet even as she was ready for battle, she told the truth - she was not afraid of this creature. It was silly to be afraid of the monsters that lurked in the night. There was little sense in fearing death as well - no one is ever ready when their time comes, yet dreading it and running from it does nothing productive. The Great Bazhooli had performed the Mamushka and given off a surprising declaration - whatever this thing was, it was not one of the Soulless. Knowing that information only increased Virginia's resolve to attempt to communicate with this being first - to not attack until it decided to strike.

Of course, Ny then threw his dagger and struck after recalling it to his hand. From what she could tell, the creature was about to charge and she sighed slightly. She would have loved to befriend this force, but it seemed it was not to be. She wished that her own axes would return to her grip, just as Ny's blade had returned to his hand - that would have been a useful skill. Instead, she resolved to just throw one axe for now and perhaps, if movement allowed, she might be able to collect it and rearm herself in time. Elizaveta and her companion were at the front of the Church, Ny was near her as was Vlad, and the rest were huddled in the back from what she could tell. "Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc," Virginia whispered, stating the Crypt Family motto, before she attacked in turn. "Not just pretty words."

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Maeve wasn't stupid. She wasn't going to go charge at this unknown creature and risk her life needlessly. The others could die in vain if that was what they wanted, but she was going to play things safe. And while she was religious and believed that the Church offered some divine protection, she also knew better than to limit herself to just one line of defense. Calling upon and activating an old Celtic site would hopefully provide them with some additional protection against this thing, whatever it was. She heard the oddly dancing Russian man declare that the monster had a soul, something which didn't make any sense to her. All monsters were without souls - well, with the exception of the Protestants and the British, as they had souls and were the most vile, despicable people that walked the planet (Maeve was clearly unbiased, of course).

"You're jist gettin' dat nigh?" Maeve scoffed, as William suggested to have weapons at the ready - as if no one else would have thought of that already. Her slight dislike of the man was settling into a firm distaste. If the people in this place didn't know to have their weapons at the ready, then they deserved to be killed by this creature for the betterment of society. She was so tired of stupid people being allowed to just go on about their business, the rest of the world coddling them instead of teaching them a harsh lesson.

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Colette’s mood dampened a bit, knowing she would not do well in a fight with just a lamga at her disposal. Until Millicent, showing some intelligence, made a makeshift rope dart from a throwing knife and part of a curtain. Colette took it in her hands, spinning it about her to get a feel for it. It did the job nicely. She would at least be able to defend herself from whatever this creature is. ”Yes, this will do quite nicely. My thanks.”

She turned to face the creature now, seeing the circus folk perform quite the feat. Performing some song and number in the face of danger, but she sensed it was more than that. It was something to strengthen their force. She knew not of what it was, but she hoped it would be enough to quell whatever beast this was. ”I will freely admit I know not of what we face. This is the second time I have come across something I know not how to kill. Does anyone know what this creature is?” She hoped someone did, but either way, she would join the battle.

She spun the dart around as the creature seemed to lurch and move around as if sensing them. ”It seems ready to attack. Let us begin.” She would defend herself and the others here. She had traveled quite far and she would not die now. There was too much at stake, too much to lose.