[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 took in a deep breath as he surveyed the damage in the ballroom dealt by the Soulless and by the ton. [color=DC143C]“Are you all alright?”[/color] he ask, turning to face his family. Even when they nodded their heads in response, he still looked them over each in turn: his father Colonel Theodore, mother Lilith, younger sister Genevieve, and younger brother Leon. 

	“Are you sure you are alright? What all happened to you?” his father Colonel Theodore inquired, looking Fyror over. 

	[color=DC143C]“I am alright, physically anyways, father. Can we go over the details later?”[/color] Fyror replied. [color=DC143C]“Right now I wish to see that my friends are alright and then help deal with those who have fallen.”[/color] His father nodded his head in reply before stepping aside.

	Fyror murmured his thanks and began to slowly make his rounds through the ballroom and eventually to the rooms beyond. He noted the amount of people who were dead or injured and all the destruction that had been caused in the chaos. His younger brother Leon followed alongside him, sent on behalf of their family who was clearly not too keen on letting Fyror slip away by himself again. He couldn’t blame them for worrying. [color=DC143C]“So much death and destruction in such a short timeframe, this does not bode well,”[/color] he stated solemnly, glancing over at his brother as they walked together.
[hr][hr]
[hr][hr][center][img]http://fontmeme.com/permalink/170105/6f250f0a6ea652257bed529aa7c3eef0.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://media.tenor.co/images/87866a1bd643938e82d42658f349d5f9/raw[/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]
	Thalken brazenly scowls at Virginia with such raw intensity in those dark eyes of his. Most cannot see past that ever-present coldness he exudes, and rightly so. Most cannot fathom the soul behind it, and who could blame them. And yet, believe or not, there is so much more to Thalken than meets the eye. No one, except perhaps his sister Thalcona, is privy to the maelstrom of thoughts, emotions, and ideals that war inside his head on a daily basis. The instincts of a killer fighting for, and often winning, supremacy over the desire to be so much better than this. He wasn’t always like this. Understanding him used to be much more straight shot. He was a mercenary like his father through and through, with no doubt that his path in life was the right path for him. But in a moment, that was all shredded into pieces. The moment his mother was brutally murdered changed him forever. The veil through which he viewed his father through was torn. He realized that his father was a monster. He realized that [i][b]he[/b][/i] was a monster too. He holds all of this bitterness and turmoil within himself, and it is all filtered out in the only way he knows how, as sheer coldness. And right now, when he stares at the Lady Crypt, he doesn’t really see her per se. He sees his father’s mistakes, the wretched dealings the Talink family has made, the innocent lives lost—so much darkness, so much pain. The sooner people have the decency to settle their disputes without bloodshed, the sooner his father would be out of business and the man’s nefarious actions laid to rest. 

	Thalken took in a sharp breath as his sister jabbed him in the ribs, breaking him from his brooding and intense staring. Thalcona gestured over to the Grand Duchess Elizaveta, who was apparently talking to him. Whether or not he took the Grand Duchess’s words to heart was anyone’s guess as his expression remained unchanged. It remained just plain cold. Thalcona rolled her eyes at him and let out an amused snort before addressing Elizaveta. “Trust me when I say this, Your Grace, you do not want to try to get inside my brother’s head as it is very dark in there. It makes it easy to get lost,” Thalcona stated jokingly at first before growing increasingly solemn, her eyes moving to look directly at Thalken. “And he cannot deny it, because he knows it’s true.”

	Thalken’s jaw clenched, the only outward indication that his sister’s words had hit home. She was right, as usual, but he wouldn’t admit that openly. He sheathed his throwing knife before pushing away from the wall and walking out of the room without a word. He went in the direction that he had seen the Lady Crypt and Mary Hale go in, and it did not take him long to locate them. He stopped several feet away from them and leaned casually against the wall. He watched them as they decided upon how to move the body of their fallen friend as the words of his sister and the Grand Duchess went through his head. A part of him realized that this would be a great opportunity to do some good while away from his father’s judgmental gaze. But unfortunately helping people doesn’t come easily to Thalken. 

	He shifted his weight back and forth before finally letting out a huff and stalking over to them. He stopped as he came up beside Virginia, who was currently crouched down by the lifeless body of Jeanette. [color=556B2F]“Move,”[/color] he stated as gruffly as ever. [color=556B2F]“I’ll get her.”[/color]