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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 situation had a way of bringing people to a pause. It was grim, the business at Almack's, but what irked Mary even more than the lack of nobility among the nobles of London was the fact that these people saw fit to leave before their names could be publicly associated with the event, and have others clean up their mess. She wondered if the living had taken more lives than the Soulless in the last hour. Whether or not it was true, the fact that the thought crossed her mind raised questions. They would have to be reevaluated later, but the method in which she carried out the letter of her vows to the Church and her Order, in her estimation, needed amending. The people of money and power, "Soulled" individuals, needed to understand the reality of their situation, in the harshest and most direct manner possible. They could not simply walk away from the damage they had done and drown it in the tragedy of a Soulless attack. Yet that is exactly what they were going to do. 

	Mary's newfound (if temporary) position might be able to help her with this situation. Whatever happened afterwards would simply happen, chips fall where they may.   

	Dropping her hand from its earlier, outstretched position, Mary turned to Elizaveta. [color=c0c0c0]"By your leave, Your Grace."[/color] she said, taking a knee. Carefully, she rotated her halberd horizontally and laid it at Veta's feet. It was symbolic, the surrendering of a cherished weapon, but it was also practical. It would be infinitely more difficult to haul the bodies of the fallen with it in hand. Mary raised to her feet, gave a quick glance to Vladimir and Myshka, and walked off to recover the remains of Virginia's friend, Mosi, first. Despite the absence of the weapon for which she was most noted, she was still quite formidable. 



[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]

	The appearance of Constantin raised questions about who was tending to the carriage (or where it was parked at that moment), but that would have to wait. If one of the retreating nobles or their servants got the bright idea to run off with Elizaveta's means of conveyance, it would be a massive inconvenience on everyone's part. Veta had more than one carriage to her name; the one she left the Circus in was one she used for short trips of a similar nature to errands or state functions, such as the Circus had anything akin to those. But the one that The Great Bazhooli took, and by extension that Constantin drove, was actually better described as [i]Myshka's[/i] carriage. Much of the interior seating was removed to accommodate the huge, white tiger, allowing for only the bravest or better known by Myshka to share the cab, and then only one or two of them. [color=firebrick]"Malen'kiy brat Constantin, so very pleasing of you to join! Is virst time coming to big, London party vor noble peoples? Is for me, as too."[/color] There was the lightest air of derisive camaraderie in his words, which continued in the same tone, [color=firebrick]"Slushat'... Iv someone uses carriage to run avay? You carry Myshka on back, all vay to Circus. Da?"[/color] He smiled, [color=firebrick]"Ah, is good to have you vith us!"[/color] 

	The expression on his face made it unclear as to whether it was an attempt at humor or something that should concern his fellow performer. Nevertheless, he smiled a big, charismatic smile and gave the surrounding room a quick look-over. He gave a mental note to the odd fellow a ways from the rest of them, standing very still and staring in their general direction. Specifically, he appeared to be quietly but intently eye-molesting the Lady Crypt. Vladimir made a point to memorize his face for later, and return to Elizaveta's attention. [color=firebrick]"Tretiy Glaz? Vhat did you see, Little Veta?"[/color] His tone changed from the formal to the personal quickly, as these visions were unpredictable at times. Genuine concern colored by curiosity was evident in the man; he was not merely a showman nor figurehead. These people were family.