[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]

	Vladimir barely heard the demand of Sister Sophia, though the question she shouted echoed in his mind as well. Elizaveta was still [i]in there[/i] someplace, and he could do nothing at that moment to help her. Vlad opened mouth to respond to their resident Nun's question, but all he had was uncertainty to offer. Not that it mattered, the moment that he tried he began to cough up an ounce or two of lake water, painfully expelling it from his lungs. In his fervor to save Elizaveta, his own difficulty had gone quite unnoticed. Immediately, his eyes went back to the lake, still unnaturally icy in great swaths despite being at the beginning of summer in London. 

	The tense moment passed, with Vladimir looking over the otherwise still surface, exhibiting much the same level of emotion as Sister Sophia. At least in this, he and Veta's tutor were of one mind: Vlad loved the young woman as a daughter, and her death would pulverize him. 

	Suddenly, a swelling of water rippled along the surface from below, followed by a great, pale head with bright eyes and imposing, pointy teeth. It was Myshka. And God love the massive kitty, he was clutching dress fabric in his teeth. Vlad was already running. He pushed past any gaping onlookers, adamant to get to Elizaveta in a straight and rapid line. The only time he even slowed his sprint was when he entered the water, though it was purely because he was bound by physics. He fought back against the pressure of the water, moving himself forward and shoving against any remaining ice out of his way. By the time the water was over his waist, Vladimir was finally able to wrap his hands around the still form of Elizaveta Romanova, taking much of the weight off of Myshka to bear. 

	[color=firebrick]"Врачи! Принесите Целителей СЕЙЧАС!"[/color] he screamed, demanding the attention of a physician or other such healer immediately. He was not sure how his own Rusyn training of [i]Krasnoye[/i] would help in this situation as he had never attempted it on a drowning victim before. It might be worth a try, but first, he needed to see if she could breathe on her own first. Vladimir hauled her onto the beach with strength born of desperation, depositing her as gently as he dared on her side upon the ground. [color=firebrick]"Breathe, Veta. Breathe..."[/color] he growled, thumping her back with the heel of his palm and using one of his knives to open any clothing which might restrict her chest from fully expanding. Tears were already forming in his eyes. His little Veta was close to dying, and he could do nothing more for her. [color=firebrick]"BREATHE!"[/color] he shouted. Begged, even. His feeling of helplessness was almost palpable. 





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[sub][color=c0c0c0]"Go forward bravely. Fear nothing. Trust in God; all will be well." -Joan of Arc[/color][/sub]

[hr][color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] London Streets [/center][hr][hr]

	The dull trod of the dapple grey stallion's hooves turned to a sharper clack upon the brick and stone roads of London. Mary reined the noble beast along the walls of St. Etheldreda's, passing what appeared to be a tavern attached to the outer fortifications. Mary nodded toward the attached structure, now sparsely occupied in the late morning hours. [color=c0c0c0]"Ye Olde Mitre."[/color] she mentioned to Adam, simply for the sake of pleasantry. [color=c0c0c0]"The Church operates a Public House, of all things, because we cannot count on the generosity of parishioners as most other churches must. Profits pay for many of our day-to-day expenses, Adam. Of course, we also count on our strawberries and saffron for this. The strawberries in particular; not to appear proud, but they were penned about by William Shakespeare over two hundred years ago."[/color] The errant Dame considered her statement, and followed with a delicate question, [color=c0c0c0]"Are you literate, Adam? Do you know how to read?"[/color] 

	Adam shook his head slightly, he would have answered the sister if it weren't for the fact he had a mouthful of food right then. The longest stretch of their travel was to take place on Holborn Road, directly in front of the church grounds. Mary reined Cassius gently, turning them onto the cobblestones of the thoroughfare headed east. With a look of determination, they steadily made their way up the block, nearing the first major intersection in their path at Chancery Lane. Adams eyes kept darting about as they moved through the city, he had never seen it from this height. 

	Traffic seemed lighter than usual, given the time of day and considering that this was London, the capitol city of the British Empire. Perhaps it has something to do with the phenomenon from earlier that morning. People started late, business was put off; there had to be some several of those affected that continued to keep indoors following the event. Naturally, that assumed the condition that whatever it was, it influenced an area greater than just the Ely Palace and St. Etheldreda's. For all Mary knew, they just had a momentary lull in horse and foot traffic. As they approached the second major intersection along their path, that being the gently forking Broad Street, realized that she hadn't eaten since about noon of the previous day. [color=c0c0c0]"Might you hand me some of that bread, please?"[/color] he requested, keeping an eye about her surroundings. 

	Nodding Adam tore off a piece of the bread and held his hand up slightly for Sister Mary to take. "It's wonderful," he said as he finally swallowed what he had been chewing. He had been steadily putting food in his mouth since they had left the church. The boy knew they would be eating with the lady he met yesterday but it didn't stop him. Adam hadn't had real food, not like this, in as long as he could remember and he knew right then no matter how much he ate of what little they brought with them he would still have pretty much an empty stomach come time to eat with Elizaveta. Growing boys had bottomless pits as stomachs, this one had an empty one times three that probably had never been filled in his life. 

	It was an interesting part of town. Residences of middle and working class mingling with neighborhood businesses, many small shops and the like. Broad Street formed a loop to reconnect with the main roadway, forming a carfax - a joining of four roads - with Holborn Street on the east, Oxford to the west, and Tottenham Court Road to the north. It was a lovely intersection, full of life and industry. People walked from errand to errand, workers unloaded stock. A brewery stood on the corner of Tottenham and Oxford; a stout man standing outside the front wearing a sharp, dapper suit, passing out samples of their latest fine ale in hopes of drawing clientele. He even offered a sampling to Mary as they sauntered by, though the look on his face changed abruptly as he noticed the heavy chain rosary on her belt. [color=c0c0c0]"No thank you."[/color] she responded, waving him away. [color=c0c0c0]"Though you should send someone to the Olde Mitre..."[/color] Mary called as she passed, [color=c0c0c0]"...fifteen minutes down Holborn, sir."[/color] She motioned back the way they had come, smiled politely, and continued past the sunny, bustling carfax. From the last fleeting look of the beer vendor, there existed the possibility that the man valued lucrative trade over general standoffishness with Catholics. 

	Adam and Mary spent the next period of time between major intersections taking a small meal of cheese, bread, and strawberries. Mary had cautioned that they were going to join the Grand Duchess at the circus for luncheon and not to eat too much, though circumstances were such that a minuscule of indulgence could be tolerated without crossing the boundary into gluttonous behavior. Adam wasn't worried, he didn't even know how to be gluttonous, he just knew how to be hungry. His frail form showed he knew that horrid feeling all too well.