[hr][hr][center][img]http://fontmeme.com/permalink/161203/27a034e8ea53c1b04481b19ad78c9a9c.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/c08e11f7-3cfd-47ba-8929-88361f1112d2.gif[/img][/center]
[center][b][color=DC143C]Location:[/color][/b] Almack’s
[color=DC143C]“It’s our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.”[/color] 
[/center][hr][hr]
	Fyror was mentally and physically weary from all that had occurred this night. Too much pain and devastation had befallen this place in such a short amount of time. The terrible images of what he had witnessed haunted him as they flashed through his head. Finding Millicent standing there drenched in blood. Seeing at Millicent’s feet the decapitated head and body of a Ryne that he later learned had been her beloved birth mother. Her stepsister Jane’s lifeless body lying on the ground with blood pouring from her ravaged throat. Mrs. Wyndham screaming out in pain as she lies on the ground impaled by an iron rod. And watching Millicent be taken away by her dishonorable fiancé Lord Rutherford. All of it was almost too much for him to bear. 

	He slipped Dr. Graham’s care into his pocket as he trudged into the ballroom. His face was downcast, and he was despondent. At first, he didn’t even hear the concerned words of his family as they rushed over to him. “Fyror? Fyror, darling, w-where are you injured?” his mother’s worried questioning finally broke through the haze he was in. His brows furrowed. [i]Why would she think I was injured?[/i] Glancing down at himself, that’s when he noticed the dried bloodstains that were mixed into his red tunic and white trousers. [i]Oh.[/i] He must have acquired those stains while he was holding Millicent in his arms. She had been covered in so much blood. [color=DC143C]“That’s not my own blood,”[/color] he muttered in response. His eyes glazed over in sorrow as he acknowledged the blood covering the ballroom and the bodies of the innocent lives that had been lost in the chaos. 
[hr][hr]
[hr][hr][center][img]http://fontmeme.com/permalink/170105/6f250f0a6ea652257bed529aa7c3eef0.png[/img][/center]
[center][img] https://media.giphy.com/media/3ohzdYuSlN7bbu0fNC/giphy.gif[/img][/center]
[center][b][color=556B2F]Location:[/color][/b] Almack’s
[color=556B2F]“Sometimes I’m terrified of my heart; of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants. The way it stops and starts.”[/color] 
[/center][hr][hr]
	[i]What did my father see in the Crypt family?[/i] Thalken thought as he watch Virginia Crypt with masked interest. His dark eyed gaze was unfalteringly intense as he practically glared at the woman. He watched her every move as he ignored the others in the room. The range of emotions he saw played out on the woman’s face was perplexing to him as such emotions seemed contrary to all he had heard about the Crypt family. 

	His head tilted slightly to the side. [i]Millicent? Sir Kildragon? Those names sounded familiar. Weren’t those the people whom he had previously been with?[/i] he thought to himself. The proper thing would be to walk up to Lady Crypt, introduce himself, and inform her that her friends were all right. But Thalken was never one for formalities. So, he just stood there staring brazenly at the woman with his intense gaze.