[hr][hr][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/6db984d3-4c29-457c-84f7-fd720c6f3470.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://img.buzzfeed.com/buzzfeed-static/static/2014-11/16/18/enhanced/webdr02/grid-cell-1156-1416180408-2.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] (Outside of) Russian Imperial Circus Tent City (Regent Park) [/center][hr][hr]

	Wet and irritated, Vladimir continued his near-blind search through the mist as thick as cotton, hoping, searching for any sign of his little Elizaveta. Given the utter lack of visibility, it was something of a long shot. Nevertheless, Vladimir Dmitrievich Alexandrov was [i]not[/i] going to give up. No, he would stride forward with calm, confidence, and utter faith in the eventuality that he would find the Grand Duchess and bring her back to the Tent City safely. The scream that cut through the otherwise quiet fog seemed to have plans to the contrary, though. 

	When the hole opened up in the fog, seemingly ripped open by the roar of a very familiar feline, Vladimir took off like a bullet. Of course it could be a trap, even so far as to reveal the best bait one could set up for the Russian knife enthusiast: His ward Veta. But suspended by an unknown force while the waters below her threaten to freeze her fearsome tiger in place? No! Not without a fight. Maybe it was not the most pragmatic thing in the world to do, but he was the one and only [i]Great Bazhooli[/i], Master of the Bazhooli Sem'ya and protector of its people. Especially Elizaveta. Even Myshka. For no one else in London, to his knowledge, could do what they could do. 

	He knew this enemy. It was the Golgravtiz. He could not give it the gift of a final demise with his current supplies, but he [i]could[/i] hurt the horrible creature, at least temporarily, or restrain it. Catching sight of Constantin nearby summoning a Gologramma to fight the looming threat, Vladimir reached into the depths of his own creative energies and began manifesting his own semi-illusory copy. 

	[color=firebrick]"Golograviz! Foul ice-bitch! Release girl and tiger, ve maybe give head start."[/color] Vlad roared with a commanding, gravelly voice. He stood straight and tall, braced for the inevitable push to come. Smiling darkly, in the manner of a menacing butcher or executioner, he gave the thing a promise: [color=firebrick]"[i]Or prepare to be Bazhooli'ed.[/i]"[/color]

	

	

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[sub][color=c0c0c0]"Behold, I send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you."[/color][/sub]
[hr][color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] St. Etheldreda's [/center][hr][hider=St. Etheldreda's Church/Ely House][center][img]http://cdn.ltstatic.com/2009/March/NL277860_942long.jpg[/img][/center][/hider][hr][hr]

	Mary smiled down at Adam. [color=c0c0c0]"Certainly, child. We shall leave for the Russian Circus this morning, the two of us. But Sister Alma is correct. I want to see you eat a [i]little[/i] something before we depart. Toast and jam, perhaps, or a bit of oats and honey. I will join you, of course."[/color] She was already anxious to head to Records and speak to Sister Lazarus. Taking the boy's hand, she began walking back out of the Garden. [color=c0c0c0]"First, we are headed to speak with our Record Keeper. I must admit to some excitement, Adam. I have been waiting for a message to be returned of serious importance."[/color] 

	Sister Lazarus certainly had a sense of humor, if a little gruff in nature. [color=c0c0c0]"Why, Sister! That borders on the blasphemous."[/color] It was not meant to be totally serious, though humor and sarcasm was not her strongest point. [color=c0c0c0]"You keep a meticulous archive, Sister Mary Lazarus. The Bishop must appreciate your diligence."[/color] Of course, a compliment grounded in honesty [i]was[/i] within her social skill set. 

	Upon receiving the letters, Mary immediately broke the seals ans read them. Her face, genuinely serene and angelic, fluttered with tiny amounts of emotion, if but for a fraction of a second each. Disbelief. Gratitude. Dismay. Acceptance. Resolve. [color=c0c0c0]"The attacks... they're [i]everywhere[/i]. We are at war."[/color] Mary took a moment to process what she had learned. This was not a coordinated attack in a single location. This was an orchestrated assault that occurred [i]worldwide[/i]. It struck a chord with the young Apostolic. This was a thing for which she had trained, and simultaneously dreaded. Her Order was vastly outnumbered for something like this. She had to inform the Graveolase, if they didn't already know. 

	Mary showed the letter from the Knight Grand Cross to Sister Lazarus, pointing to the bottom paragraph. [color=c0c0c0]"If you would, Sister, please record this event in the Archives."[/color] The other information will be come widely known very soon, but a copy of her appointment to greater responsibility within her Order demanded a backup, lest the papers be lost in the meantime.