[hr][hr][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/6db984d3-4c29-457c-84f7-fd720c6f3470.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://68.media.tumblr.com/e639a9f51932737fe8784626014c45b9/tumblr_mrmij1Jfrd1sph0p2o2_1280.png[/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]

	That did not proceed [i]exactly[/i] as planned. Yes, there could have been a couple of things that he had done differently. For starters, Vladimir probably should have curled his thumb over the pommel of his knife, ensuring that the blade didn't make the unfortunate leap of cutlery acrobatics that caused it to fly straight up, tumble lightly in the misty air, and swiftly seek out the displaced Russian man's forehead as if intentionally hurled in his direction from above. The moisture over everything likely didn't help whatsoever with his endeavors to maintain control of his own knives, either. The tiniest piece of luck did worm its way into the situation as the blade decided to rotate around to its generally less lethal end before bashing him squarely in his forenoggin, slamming him to the ice with sufficient force as to cause him to go sliding in one direction, his knife in another. 

	His brain clouded, whispering sweet nothings to him, saying that it would be okay if he would just go to sleep. He had suffered a trauma and would hardly be blamed if he just closed his eyes and succumbed to the cold of the ice underneath him and the acid in his skull. Just sleep. Vladimir's eyes fluttered and began to close, content that this was the best thing to do. 

	[color=firebrick]"[b]NO![/b]"[/color] he shouted, sitting bolt upright from his second of near unconsciousness. [color=firebrick]"The Great Bazhooli [i]no sleeps[/i] vhile sem'ya is in danger!"[/color] Valdimir was indeed tougher. He was stronger. And he most certainly more Russian. The spirit of [i]Fal'shbort[/i] was indeed with him as he desperately ignored the throbbing pain in his forehead. He looked to his fellow Circus Performer, also not having the best of moments. [color=firebrick]"Constantin! You get ice!"[/color]

	The cat was slowing down. Their only hope of saving little Veta, and Vladimir would be triple-damned if he was going to do nothing while his adoptive daughter lay beneath icy water. Myshka was going to survive, and the great tiger was going to save Elizaveta. But they would all need help. Vladimir scrambled forward, reaching out to administer the Rusyn Skill of [i]Krasnoye[/i] to the gallant beast, an oft useful ability that healed physical traumas of all sorts. He could at least buy the tiger precious time and get him back to strength while his associate worked to help free him.


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[sub][color=c0c0c0]"Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."[/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 at Sister Lazarus, departing her office with a light curtsy. She admired the woman. A truly unique lady, she took to her job with skill and a sense of humor that, while sarcastic, was never cruel. [color=c0c0c0]"Of course, Sister. Thank you very much for your haste. We shall return before we leave this morning."[/color] With that, Mary led Adam from the records rooms and toward the Great Hall, behind which the kitchens were positioned. 

	To Mary's joyous surprise, Alma had found them. Very nearly running into them in the hallway with sight obscured by an armload of mismatched clothes, some of which were gender inappropriate, most of which were sewn for persons much larger and older than Adam, else for much younger children. As they didn't really have a table or proper place to spread out the varied choice of apparel, Mary had no difficulty whatsoever with carefully laying the armload of clothing upon the floor and carefully picking through them. After a short couple of minutes, the Sisters Mary Alma and Mary Ignatia had managed to locate a more or less matched and fitting set of clothing, decent slacks and a presentable shirt for a young gentleman. The biggest boon to their endeavor to make little Adam ready to have his day on the town was a pair of decent shoes. Mary quickly helped Sister Alma to reassemble the remaining clothing into a form more compact and ready for the elder Nun to carry. [color=c0c0c0]"Thank you so much, Sister Alma, for helping provide for our guest. And I know he appreciates it, as well."[/color] Mary looked to the child at her side, [color=c0c0c0]"Don't you, Adam?"[/color] 

	Mary smiled, looking over to their destination just a few meters away. [color=c0c0c0]"Come along then, let us spend a few minutes in the kitchen, and then find a place where you might change into your new clothes."[/color]