[hr][hr][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/b4c8d8bb-ce6c-4f28-ae48-5db57c8bd072.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/4b/8b/f9/4b8bf9bf56e16949792ee05fe7b3e8c5.jpg[/img] [sub][color=c0c0c0]"When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom."[/color][/sub] [hr][color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] Almack's [/center][hr][hr] In truth, Mary hadn't actually expected an apology from the man in any fashion. Be it overtly gruff or unconvincing, he did speak the words and then begin to exit the hall. Perhaps the odd man had some ethical merit buried in there someplace, even if it had to be yanked to the forefront by a holy woman with a huge bore pistol. Mary cocked her head to the side slightly and watched Thalken depart. She nodded slowly, giving a little bit of what she took as understanding of the strange man's demeanor. London did produce some odd ducks, the state of their aggression and potential for threat needing to be constantly reassessed. She would keep tabs on this man in the meantime, and resolved to ask into his family's history from third party sources. The sound of firearm hammers uncocking could be heard as the Apostolic Dame lowered her howdah gun. As it slid back into its American-style holster, she intoned quietly, [color=c0c0c0]"Thank you, Brother [i]Talink[/i]."[/color] It was a polite nothing. Not like she could see this man, seemingly possessed of prideful arrogance, ever donning the Black (to say Church garb, not gothic stylings) or becoming a monk. Her hand relaxed from her weaponry and she bent back down, taking up the legs of the departed Mosi Crane. [color=c0c0c0]"The Grand Duchess will be able to ensure her undisturbed and eternal rest, Lady Crypt. Let us get your friend out to her with haste, that Her Grace may apply her talents and I might see to the Soulless before they reanimate."[/color] [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]Passive Skills:[/b][/color] [list][*] [u]Fal'shbort[/u] - You are tougher, stronger, more Russian! [*] [u]Tretiy Glaz[/u] - An ability that gives a person a sixth sense into the future. Unpredictable and random.[/list][/center][hr][hr][center][color=firebrick][b]Location:[/b][/color] Almack's Assembly Rooms[/center][hr][hr] The strange, dark woman Vladimir had just read with his cursory Chteniye Dushi reading had just stepped away with barely a word. Maybe it was something he had said; his demeanor was something of an acquired flavor for some. Not to mention that this was Great Britain - he and his people were not quite as widely known here, nor the abilities of their Rusyn Cossack training. The more likely answer, of course, was that she really just wanted to find her brother. The eccentric Russian with the garnered title of The Great Bazhooli did like to attribute the more dramatic reason to any situation, at least in the telling of any good story. A little flair never hurt anybody. In most cases. Well, someone had to assist in the reclamation of dead people, which Vladimir assumed was going to be that scary Catholic girl who had mentioned something to that effect earlier, and someone had to give physical presence around Elizaveta to act as bodyguard in this strange, foreign land. I mean, the things they called "pudding"? Monstrous. No, he was going to sit tight and, with the assistance of the massive Siberian cat, make sure that his little Veta remained safe and calm; safe from Soulless and locals, both. Slow steps brought him back to the Grand Duchess as he drew two decently intimidating knives from one of the many places he maintained sharp things on his person, and proceeded to twirl them between his fingers in quick, fluid motions - up and back, down and forward. He did notice a man elsewhere in the room. He had a damaged eye and gripped the hilt of his sword, and looked hesitant to approach. He smiled broadly at the man, mumbling, [color=firebrick]"...Вся эта суета над котенком..."[/color] and increased the volume of his voice to something more cheerful and understandable, [color=firebrick]"Come! Come... You vish audience vith Grand Duchess? She rests now, prepares for ritual to cleanse dead from taint of Soulless. Maybe you bring corpse as offering, da? Maybe two? You are big man, can handle two."[/color] he nodded vigorously, happy to continue twirling knives throughout the exchange.