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[sub][color=c0c0c0]"Now the earth was corrupt in the sight of God, and the earth was filled with violence."[/color][/sub]
[hr][color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] Almack's Assembly Rooms [/center][hr][hr]

	The man with the damaged eye that Mary had been introduced to earlier in the evening certainly seemed interested in the fate of the lady that she and Virginia carried. But there was really no time for further discussion. The clock was counting down on the possible time for further tragedy to ensue, and she would not be a party to it because of idleness, regardless of the emotions at play. Her more businesslike mindset had returned, and just in time. Elizaveta had given her a task to perform. Interim Arch Graveolase or no, Mary was the entourage of the Grand Duchess of the Russian Empire, a lady who was set on a task that Mary herself would gladly be performing if she had the ability to do so. 

	[color=c0c0c0]"Captain Kildragon?"[/color] she began, her voice steady and professional, [color=c0c0c0]"I will give you what detail I can at a later time. You may inquire for me at St. Etheldreda's, of the Ely Palace on the morrow. For now, would you please help set a positive example by gathering your lovely family and exiting the Assembly Rooms? We have urgent matters that require our [i]immediate[/i] attention, Sir. Attempts to assist would merely be a hindrance, you understand."[/color] 

	The young Apostolic carefully lay her side of the fallen Mosi upon the center of the floor as respectfully as she was able, then immediately went to retrieve her halberd. She bowed her head before taking up the blessed weapon, somehow appearing as more the paladin because of it. Maybe it was a psychological effect or confidence booster, but the air of the woman seemed more aloof yet approachable, proper and militant all at the same time. She was a Lady Knight of the Papacy, clad in a laurel-gilt black cassock and carrying the signature weapon of the world famous Swiss Guard. Her eyes were fierce and righteous, and she was given her orders by the highly important woman to whom she had attached herself for the evening. With discipline and seraphic grace, she began to carry out those very orders. 

	Mary swiftly glided from group of people to group of people, individual to individual, giving word to each person and/or group depending upon what tone and phrasing was most appropriate. It ranged from simple, [color=c0c0c0]"I'm sorry, we need you to exit the building. It's not safe yet."[/color] to [color=c0c0c0]"The Graveolase has it from here. Please leave it to us."[/color] to [color=c0c0c0]"I cannot guarantee your safety, nor will we take the risk. It is time to leave."[/color] Not just mere words, but there was the gentle press of her presence, ushering people toward the doors. Her idea of crowd control was not finesse work, but generally it was effective. 

	[color=c0c0c0]"Please be at peace. Their earthly remains will be returned to you, but for now we must ensure that the taint of the Soulless cannot take them."[/color] This to a grieving family member who was hesitant to move at first. It was amazing, the power of mentioning continued threat just after an overt attack. Makes people cautious. This one Lady of the Ton she had to personally escort from to the doors, such was her reluctance to leave the corpse of a dead relative. Mary understood the situation, and knew that the woman could not personally understand [i]Mary's[/i] situation. Still, there was kindness in her voice. Coming back from her escort, she noticed a slender man mumbling in Russian. That [i]had[/i] to be Constantin. 

	She called his name tentatively, [color=c0c0c0]"Constantin? Constantin, greetings."[/color] Indeed, this was the man that she had met very briefly, just earlier. [color=c0c0c0]"If I may impose upon you, sir? The Grand Duchess requests that you locate her bag from the carriage, and return to her with it. Specifically, she requires her "Relic" I believe. Thank you. If you will excuse me?"[/color] It was a little terse, but time was a factor. Perhaps she would extend a courtesy later as a means of mild apology. Mary returned to her task, entering the Octagon and searching for anyone else lingering in the area. 




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[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]

	With luck, Elizaveta could finish her work and they could rejoin their brothers and sisters back at the Tent City constructed just outside of London proper, the present home to the gypsies, vagabonds, sinners and saints, common and royal persons of the Sem'ya and Circus; Russia's ambassadors to the United Kingdom and the Graveolase. It was a curious assignment for the Circus, to be certain. But a great concentration of Rusyn Trained people could be found among their number, hiding in plain sight, using their talents to impress and entertain. 

	Naturally, they were also called upon to handle the problems of Russian Soulless, openly or discreetly. It simply made sense. They were not the only ones to do so, but their fame/infamy in this regard among people in the know made them the logical choice. Also, it seemed, the logical choice to represent the Empire here in London, aside from the obvious reason of Elizaveta's presence. 

	It did not seem that luck was with them, however. Delay after delay, people staying around and not contributing to the task at hand. His little Veta was getting more and more annoyed at the situation, and so was Vladimir. Not [i]exactly[/i] for the same reasons; the reigning Great Bazhooli had hoped that this would be one of those fancy aristocratic parties with stuffed quail and curious finger foods from exotic and local sources, possibly dancing and the general carousing that one assumes the upper crust does when they don't think the lower classes are watching. He could have done with a quick, hot meal and several invitations to meet with moderately ranked noblewomen in potentially compromising positions, paid for with his singular wit and passionate intensity. As it turned out, all he got was drama - and not the good kind. 

	When Virginia and Mary entered the room, carrying a third, quite dead person, Vladimir heard Veta's voice immediately call those loyal to her into action. The scary Catholic lady was enlisted into service as something of an aristocratic pub bouncer, clearing the room of everyone not of the Circus. Or herself, apparently. Then the most curious thing happened. The Grand Duchess actually gave The Great Bazhooli an order. [i]An Order.[/i] While not usual, it was something that he was honorbound to follow to the best of his ability, but the nature of his instructions... 

	Vladimir recovered four knives from about his person. Holding three in one hand, he began twirling the fourth between his fingers in his other hand, back and forth, up and down. It demonstrated a masterful proficiency and knack for manual dexterity. He paused briefly to adjust the tall top hat perched upon his very dignified head, twirl the oiled corner of his moustache, and sigh. Then the little dance that sharp things do when in his possession continued as if it had never ceased. 

	Mary seemed to be doing an adequate job clearing out the stragglers, but a surprise hit him in the form of the twins, Thalken and Thalcona, depositing a headless corpse with matching neck accessory onto the floor nearby. Mary hadn't quite noted their entrance yet, and they were most definitely not Circus, just as much neither of them were Sister Mary. Vladimir decided to handle this diplomatically. [color=firebrick]"Dа! Dа, Lady. This must be brother, верный? Very please to meet, and thank you so much for getting dead person. Her Grace vould thank too, but is busy, very busy. Must ask you go, da? Place must be cleansed, and very, very soon. Cannot be done vhile you are here."[/color] 

	Master Alexandrov leaned his head to one side, causing the vertebrae of his neck to pop audibly. He finished his request of the pair with an informal invitation, of sorts. [color=firebrick]"My Lady?"[/color] he intoned, his bright eyes focused on Thalcona, [color=firebrick]"Iv please you, come to see show. Maybe share drink from Bazhooli homeland, ve talk more. But for now! Good evenings, the both ov you."[/color] Knives still spinning, the talented Russian bowed to the siblings and motioned to the front exit.