[hr][hr][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/6db984d3-4c29-457c-84f7-fd720c6f3470.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/3068ada6-2525-4e47-b1a8-14d98dfb6177.jpg[/img][/center][hr][center][color=firebrick][b]Location:[/b][/color] Almack's Assembly Rooms[/center][hr][hr]

	From boyishly charming to inflamed with controlled rage, the face of The Great Bazhooli was ever the maelstrom of intensity. Thusly was his change of demeanor as Elizaveta explained the particulars of the evening in the older language of their Training, one considered provincial and antiquated by many of Russia's noble classes despite the power the Old Words still possessed. He did not respond immediately, merely listening to the Grand Duchess until she finished her summary of horrifying events. When she was toward the end of her speech, Vladimir placed the first two fingers of each hand on his temples, making circular motions as if to ward off a coming headache. He then took his turn, speaking with a sense of restrained, concerned anger, as a parent might to an unruly but well-meaning teenager, in the same language and with the same fluency as Elizaveta. There were sweeping arm movements and expressive facial changes as he went along on his tiny tirade, basically breaking down that, her small contingent of mundane guards were unsuited to the task of holding off an attack of Soulless, and that she should have sent for people from the Sem'ya as soon as she knew of their presence in London. 

	[color=firebrick]"Iv anything happen to you,"[/color] he finished in English, [color=firebrick]"I could not forgive myselv. Not vhen ve could have done something."[/color] 

	The introduction of the woman he had casually referred to as "scary Catholic girl" took him by considerable surprise. He assumed an expression and posture of humility, with lowered eyes and shoulders as he turned to address the heavily armed woman in black cassock. [color=firebrick]"I am shamed, Dame Hale, before your sight. I vish to give apology, my vords are born into situation of peril and ignorance."[/color] He placed a had over his heart and bowed in front of the young Apostolic, his eyes not moving from the ground as he continued. [color=firebrick]"Having position or not having position, a Bazhooli does not speak this vay. I bring shame to selv and to Sem'ya. I vill apologize with any method your people say is appropriate, if I am able. For now, I am very [i]The Sorry[/i]."[/color] 

	The Great Bazhooli straightened to his full height and adopted a more relaxed manner, hoping that his social faux pas was smoothed over with a touch of self-imposed public humiliation. If it weren't, he was still fully willing to back up his offer. In the meantime, it looked like there was some business at hand, which he chose to address in his own histrionic fashion. [color=firebrick]"Lady Knight!"[/color] he exclaimed, [color=firebrick]"I and little Myshka vill see to keeping of Her Grace safe, da? You see to Honored Dead. Ve vill hold the rooms until your retur... "[/color] 

	Vladimir was cut off by a glimmer of something from the corner of his eye. Apparently, the person who had received his hat and coat upon his entrance was not overly fond of standing there holding it, and so deposited them both unceremoniously upon a chair. His fine top hat had rolled to the ground, now listlessly rolling back and forth upon the smooth floor as the gentleman in question tried to exit without notice. The Great Bazhooli held up his hand to the group with which he was just speaking, indicating that he would be right back. 

	Truth told, he did really like that hat. 

	[color=firebrick]"Privet! Vhere you go, khm?"[/color] he shouted, running over to his errant belongings. He settled his top hat upon his head and quickly threw on his fur-edged coat. The weather gave insistence that he left it flared open, but such was his nature for the dramatic. Plus, it showed off enough knives about his person to give a good impression. Returning to his earlier place in the conversation, [color=firebrick]"Da! Until your vork is done. Ve have lot to talk about, Lady Knight. I am Master Vladimir Alexandrov, and I am at your service, Arch Graveolase."[/color] 


[hr][hr][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/b4c8d8bb-ce6c-4f28-ae48-5db57c8bd072.png[/img][/center]
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[sub][color=c0c0c0]"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted."[/color][/sub]
[hr][color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] Almack's [/center][hr][hr]

	The new Russian certainly could talk. Not that his structure of the English language was perfect, but he did stress and utilize those words with singular flair. Be it that he did give her mild insult the moment that he met her, it was less than she was accustomed to dealing with on a daily basis anyway, and the utter absurdity of his profuse apology was beginning to make her uncomfortable. This could not be indicative of all people from his corner of the world, as observed by the demure and proper behavior of Elizaveta. In the end, Mary waved her hand and spoke with a dismissive voice, [color=c0c0c0]"I accept your apology, Master Alexandrov. Pray don't mention it again."[/color] The words were kind, but the delivery was a bit stony. 

	What she did actually appreciate was his offer. Mary was attached to Elizaveta as part of her entourage. All of her entourage, as it turned out, and as such had certain responsibilities to her. Such responsibilities could ordinarily only be passed on to another of her entourage or another Knight. This man was no Knight, neither Realm nor Papal. But it could be argued effectively that, though he was late, he was intended as part of her entourage. Besides that, no matter how colorful he was, he obviously cared about the Grand Duchess and was particularly skilled with more physical disciplines. Mary nodded her acceptance, and turned to Virginia. 

	[color=c0c0c0]"Lady Crypt, I thank you for your presence while I attended to the safety of my charge. To the best of my ability to detect, Almack's is clear. Let us see to your friend together."[/color] Mary hefted her polearm, extending a hand to Virginia.