[hr][hr][center][img]https://s23.postimg.org/h6shths5n/virginia.png[/img]
[img]https://s30.postimg.org/8uoso7135/virginia.gif[/img][hr][color=9999ff][b]Location[/b][/color]: Almack's[/center][hr][hr]	As the Great Bazhooli and the Grand Duchess conversed in the Russian-like tongue, Virginia closed her eyes for a moment. She could still recall almost every minute of the battle with the hraew and simultaneously, she could only remember certain seconds. Had she not waited so long to attempt to fix her leg by force, then perhaps Mosi would still be among the living. A single tear trailed down her face and Virginia's hand clenched into a fist, her knuckles impossibly turning an even paler shade than the rest of her body. 

	Virginia opened her eyes again as the Great Bazhooli offered to protect the Grand Duchess while they tended to the dead, an offer which Mary accepted. Virginia could think of no one in Almack's who had fallen that was more deserving of attention than Mosi, but she was biased. To her, the fallen Arch Graveolase did not merit the same level of care and attention as Mosi did. Mosi had a certain liveliness to her that few of London's society could ever match. Though as she saw the Great Bazhooli rush over for his fur coat and top hat, she wondered what opinion dear Mosi would hold of him. Mosi would have loved circus folk, Virginia decided. 

	[color=9999ff]"There is no thanks needed, Dame Hale,"[/color] Virginia said to Mary, after she was thanked for coming with Mary to attend to her charge. It was no great ordeal to go ensure the safety of the Grand Duchess and the others in Almack's. Besides, it was a continuation of the task that Mosi had given her life to complete. If more had perished in Almack's, Mosi's sacrifice would potentially be rendered meaningless. She nodded as Mary informed her that Almack's was clear and accepted her friend's hand, taking a breath as she prepared herself to retrieve Mosi's fallen form. 

	[color=9999ff]"I suppose Mosi's family will wish to bury her,"[/color] Virginia observed, a tinge of sadness in her voice. She wanted to burn Mosi's corpse and spread the ashes on the shores or in the woods of the New World, yet she also knew that most in England preferred more traditional burial practices. It felt cruel for Mosi to be buried in a land she never found comfort in and under a name she hardly ever used for herself. At least the Grand Duchess would tend to Mosi's corpse. Virginia could not help but assume that it would shortly be ensured that Mosi would not rise again in another form. 

	[i]Millicent?[/i] Virginia had not seen her friend since she left to protect her family, having begun an engagement with Lord Rutherford. The thought of her friend engaged to such a man left a vile taste in her mouth. She had hardly interacted with Lord Rutherford, yet she could not believe that the man would bring Millicent happiness. She and Mosi had perhaps gotten a bit carried away in their discussions of Lord Rutherford, but they had meant well. If Lord Rutherford truly made Millicent happy, then who was she to stand in her way? Her friend had shown such an aversion to marriage without love and was fully capable of fending for herself. 

	She shook her head in response to Elizeveta. [color=9999ff]"I do hope Millicent is not among the dead...The world would suffer greatly from her loss,"[/color] Virginia said quietly, her mind filled with the image of Mosi, lying dead on the steps. They never had made it to the second floor that they intended to secure. [color=9999ff]"As for Sir Kildragon, I have not seen him since as well."[/color]	

	Virginia could not help but feel intensely curious as Elizaveta froze, a hand on her chest and another on the wall. It looked to the Crypt woman as if the Grand Duchess was stuck in some sort of spell, utterly transfixed. She noted the way the tiger came to his mistress' defense and listened carefully to the Grand Duchess' words. It did seem to be logical for there to be more deaths before the end of the season, especially given the slaughter at Flitwick Manor. It once was a rarity, such attacks. With the events tonight at Almack's, it now appeared to be on the path to becoming common. 

	Another Russian man came into the room, voicing a sentiment that Virginia could not help but agree with. The blame of the tragedy was with the ton. They had no respect for the dark forces in the world and instead elected to ignore them. Tonight was proof that such behavior never ended well. She could not help but hope that James would take after the rest of her family, instead of adopting the habits and attitudes of the ton. 
[hr][hr][center][img]https://s8.postimg.org/nvq4ksl7p/maeve.png[/img]
[img]https://s12.postimg.org/v4ysdqh4d/Regency_Chloe_13.gif[/img][hr][color=ff6600][b]Location[/b][/color]: Teriny Inn[/center][hr][hr]	Maeve finished her bath, having scrubbed her skin clean with the soap and attended to her hair. Drying herself off with the towel, she changed into a nightgown and attempted to keep the things from the bath in the most orderly condition possible. Having worked hard since she was a small child, she didn't wish to go out of her way to make things more difficult for those girls employed by Nigel. The inn was quiet and peaceful, of course, but that didn't make the work any easier. 

	She grinned slightly as she heard the sound coming in from the docks, walking quietly over to the window. The moon was gorgeous and hearing the rowdiness had a more calming effect on Maeve than the bath ever could. She let out a content sigh as she continued to stare out of the inn and look towards the heavens. Everything seemed to be quiet and still. Softly, she began to sing [url=http://www.irishpage.com/songs/gilemear.htm]Mo Ghile Mear[/url], her voice hardly above a whisper.

[center][i][color=ff6600]"Seal da rabhas im' mhaighdean shéimh,
'S anois im' bhaintreach chaite thréith,
Mo chéile ag treabhadh na dtonn go tréan
De bharr na gcnoc is i n-imigcéin.

    'Sé mo laoch, mo Ghile Mear,
    'Sé mo Chaesar, Ghile Mear,
    Suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas féin
    Ó chuaigh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear.

Ní labhrann cuach go suairc ar nóin
Is níl guth gadhair i gcoillte cnó,
Ná maidin shamhraidh i gcleanntaibh ceoigh
Ó d'imthigh uaim an buachaill beó.

Marcach uasal uaibhreach óg,
Gas gan gruaim is suairce snódh,
Glac is luaimneach, luath i ngleo
Ag teascadh an tslua 's ag tuargain treon.

Seinntear stair ar chlairsigh cheoil
's líontair táinte cárt ar bord
Le hinntinn ard gan chaim, gan cheó
Chun saoghal is sláinte d' fhagháil dom leómhan.

Ghile mear 'sa seal faoi chumha,
's Eire go léir faoi chlócaibh dubha;
Suan ná séan ní bhfuaireas féin
Ó luaidh i gcéin mo Ghile Mear."[/color][/i][/center]