[center][img]http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ccff888e-d2a3-4f6d-a340-d0c5f453075c.png[/img][h1][b][color=2956b2]March 22nd, 1823[/color][/b][/h1] [img]http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ccff888e-d2a3-4f6d-a340-d0c5f453075c.png[/img][h1][b][i][color=2956b2]Scotland[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center] Rory chuckled a bit and ducked as Calums hat came flying out the window. Reaching out he caught it and placed it on his head. "Done with this I take it?" he called out towards the carriage. The door flung open a moment later and the [i]former Parson[/i] leaned out of the carriage looking every bit a Catholic Priest. "Bloody hell, that entire get up was itchin' me like no tomorrow. Glad to be rid of it and that hat," he said as he took a couple of steps down the side of the carriage and hopped out, with much more grace than he had been showing even just recently. "Hey, this hat looked brilliant on you. What's you complaining about?" Rory asked as he did his best impression of a man of breeding, complete with hat twirl and bow. Calum just rolled his eyes a bit as he tugged at the collar. "Stop that, or your gonna bust it." "Well, will be my first matter of confession then," Calum snarked. "Who ya gonna confess to? Yerself?" Rory said bursting out with laughter and dodging a swing from Calum before he darted off and climbed back on top of the carriage and into the driver seat. "On yer own lass." Calum shook his head a bit before glancing over towards Maeve and smiling a bit nervously towards her. "Sorry about the ruse, clumsy Parson draws far less attention than one would think." [center][hr][h1][b][i][color=2956b2]England[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center] [color=2956b2]Case Name:[/color] Time to go [color=2956b2]Location:[/color] London [color=2956b2]Time:[/color] As quickly as possible [color=2956b2]Reason:[/color] To get moving to meet Veta for Brunch [color=2956b2]Group:[/color] Sister Mary, Adam [hider=My Hider] Continue towards the Circus, should arrive by end of this round. As per usual, pm me for rolls about the trip. No rolls will be made after day 5 of this counter. 7 days to complete. [/hider] [color=2956b2]Case Name:[/color] Death of a Garden [color=2956b2]Location:[/color] Crypt Manor (London) [color=2956b2]Time:[/color] An hour or two [color=2956b2]Reason:[/color] Try to figure why everything died and why only 1 thing grew - you can finally start lol [color=2956b2]Group:[/color] The Crypts [hider=My Hider] Time to get to work hard core. Pm for rolls on results of tests, please be as specific as possible with roll requests to try to find information. The most specific the better. Freshness of corpse is key here, so move quickly. 7 day to complete. [/hider] [b][i][color=2956b2]The Strand:[/color][/i][/b] Michael chuckled a bit as they passed Frances. "Oh that I have Miss. Doesn't seem to talk much though, wondering if the cats got his tongue," Michael said cheerfully as he pulled the cart and made his way down the street. He wasn't meaning anything by the comment, just trying to make light of a rather dark situation. Some thing that Michael had no want to be a part of but was simply doing it because that was what he did. Turning his attention back to the road ahead of him he kept walking, steadily pulling the body and half glad that the constable had instructed them to move it. Had they just left it lord only knew how long it would sit out in the streets stinking, rotting, defecating itself, bloating, or being torn apart and eaten by whatever stray hadn't had a meal yet that morning. Making his way around the corner, Michael stopped in front of one of the buildings lining the street. one looked far more run down than though around it and from above the door hung a barely readable sign - Physician. Setting the end of the cart down carefully Michael dusted his hands off as he stepped over to the door and started banging on it loudly. "Nuetermyre! Wake up!" he shouted and banged again. Looking over at Thalken he sighed. "The man is about as deaf as a door post and sleeps until the sun goes down." Sarah Ann laid in bed, her head tossing and turning every so often. She would whimper in her sleep, kick from time to time, it was like a horrible combination of a bad nightmare and being unable to get comfortable just as one was trying to fall asleep. It didn't help that she screamed out as she doubled kicked down her sheets, one of those [i]oh shit I'm falling in my sleep![/i] moments. It could all be chalked up to simple shock and fear most likely thanks to the scare she had had earlier, the young girls didn't tend to take well to corpses, doubly less so if it rolled down the hill towards them. Sarah Ann was even more skittish than the rest, which did not help in the slightest. [b][i][color=2956b2]Regent's Park:[/color][/i][/b] Myska growled slightly as he finally released the material of Elizaveta's skirt, letting Vlad take ahold of her and finish the trek up to the shore. Bounding slightly ahead the large cat finally found land and shook himself off, sending a downpour of water on the rest of those standing there. The cat looked rather proud of himself for soaking half the circus in one go. Veta on the other hand, did not look very well at all. Her lips were dark purple, her pale skin seemed nearly transparent at this point, and it was ice cold to the touch. Vlad beating on Elizaveta's back seemed to be getting some of the water out of the poor girls lungs. As Constantin grabbd her and squeezed, a gush came out. Myska turned and growled towards the two men. They meant well but Myska didn't know that. All he could see was what looked like a lifeless Veta being manhandled and beaten. The tiger looked like he was about to rip both of their throats out with one fell swoop of his jaws. They were big enough. Sister Sophia finally rushed over, half drenched thanks to Myska and gasped when her eyes finally fell on her charge. "Move, move, out of vay, out of vay," she demaned. "Blankets, torches," she added as she sunk down to her knees. "Veta, speak," she yelled but the Grand Duchess still wasn't moving, at least not a first. The girl eventually gasped for breath and her chest started moving up and down as she drew breath but she still hadn't woken. "Ve need get her inside tent, varmth, she's freezing to touch." [b][i][color=2956b2]Westminster Hospital:[/color][/i][/b] Once the three of them were in the hallway and the door was closed to Mrs. Wyndham's room Dr. Graham let out a frustrated huff and kicked the wall. Rubbing the back of his neck he looked over towards Fyror and Gerard. "Sorry, that woman is just vexing," he said; apologizing for his actions. Turning he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall in thought. "If she is already missing, I fear the worst," he muttered more to himself than to the two men standing there. Slowly his eyes trailed towards Fyror and then to Gerard. "Is it like Miss Wyndham to go missing like this?" he asked of the two of them. For Millicent to be gone was very out of the ordinary, she rarely went anywhere without informing someone where she was headed and when she expected to return. She rarely went anywhere alone, always with an escort. Ever mindful of the rumors the ton would spread if she was caught out and about without someone at her side that was associated with her family. Yet, last night may have changed many things. The way she was acting when she was escorted home by Rutherford, the bruising, the look of nothingness in her eyes, the way she had to be lead around like she was a shell of her former self. Though, all of that, she couldn't move from a chair to her bed without being lead by someone, she hardly could have moved and gone missing like this if someone wasn't leading her at this point. "Does anyone know when the last time she was seen?"