[hr][hr][center][h1][color=9e0b0f]Российский императорский цирк[/color][/h1][/center]
[center][color=9e0b0f][Russian Imperial Circus)[/color][/center]
[center][img]http://images2.fanpop.com/images/quiz/50542_1219082653092_500_281.jpg[/img][/center][hr][hr]

	The Ringmaster, a shrewd and fairly portly individual named Viktor, was busy with his attendants trying to squeeze himself into a man-girdle when he heard his name being called, nay, shouted into the late morning air. He threw a shirt on over the not-quite-fastened torso restraining device and poked out from his personal tent, located near where the action usually was. 

	 Viktor knew what was going on with Veta, but seeing how many hands were on the case already had slipped back to the tents to ready himself to meet the public, if such an event were necessary. The best way he figured he could help involved dealing with people outside of the Circus, organizing the personnel (aside from the Bazhooli Sem'ya, that was Vladimir's concern), and keeping things running smoothly while those who could help directly did so. There was also the painful necessity of drafting letters to the Emperor and the Imperial Court if the unthinkable were to occur, and the Grand Duchess not make it. 

	Naturally, that letter would be delayed by a day or two while another, faster moving one was sent, detailing the immediate need for additional monies and supplies for Elizaveta's betterment.  

	He heard the urgent tone in Constantin's voice, and as soon as he saw the younger man running about, screamed back at him. [b]"Cold Veather Gear? It is in STORAGE VAGONS! STORAGE! Back of the Tent City!"[/b] He pointed in the general direction of the cargo wagons forming a blockade around the back of the area. It was all common knowledge, but perhaps he was looking for the Noble(ish) Ringmaster because he knew every nook and cranny of the Circus like the back of his hand. If anyone could locate something buried in storage months ago, and quickly, it would be him. And because it was Veta, he would make sure it was handled immediately. [b]"Come, come. Tell me vhat you need, I vill get..."[/b] He managed a jog back to a specific cargo wagon, waving Constantin back with him. 

[center][i][color=9e0b0f]Co-GM's Note: For the sake of simplicity, just assume that Viktor locates and gets you what you need, as long as you tell him specifics.[/color][/i][/center] [hr]

	Meanwhile, the younger Alexandrov, Konstantin (yes, but with a "K") sprinted along as fast as he could, pausing only long enough to snatch up a live coal with a set of tongs from a cooking brazier, plus a handful of wadding. By the time he got to Elizaveta's tent (a place where he would otherwise never dare tread), others were arriving. He set at once to light a solid fire in the tent's blackened iron stove. It would provide plenty of heat, but not a lot in the way of light, for a couple of hours before needing tending. Hopefully, the Grand Duchess would be a little better by then. 



[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] Russian Imperial Circus - Tent City (Regent's Park)[/center][hr][hr]

	The Great Bazhooli did not quite notice the lack of warmth in himself. Maybe it was because of the adrenaline passing through his blood, his heart pumping at a rate that propelled him to action above personal safety. But he was freezing cold. What he [i]did[/i] notice was the block of barely breathing ice that was shaped like his little Veta that he carried in his arms. No matter how cold he might have been, she felt colder still against his skin. 

	The tiger, Myshka, was doing a truly admirable job clearing the road for him. He seemed to instinctively know exactly where they were going and what to do when they got there. The animal was probably just as waylaid by the cold as he was, probably moreso despite his larger body mass. It was a kind of love/hate relationship with Myshka. He seemed to get along fine with Vladimir, even follow some simple commands that he would issue, but [i]only[/i] if it meant getting to or helping Elizaveta. Otherwise, he took his life in his hands just as much as any other poor soul that got that close to a territorial 500 pound kittycat. But times like this, they worked together well, their only things in common being an attachment to the Circus and a mutual love for the young Romanova. 

	As soon as Myshka situated himself in Veta's bed, Vladimir lay his charge next to the great beast. He level of worry increased at that point, fueled by the desperation of a lack of options. At least while he was carrying her to possible safety, he was doing [i]something[/i]. His efforts at using the [i]Krasnoye[/i] were seemingly ineffective against whatever afflicted her, and there was nothing else he could do. Now that his usefulness was over... Vladimir slumped into a sullen heap to sit upon the floor of Veta's tent, leaning against the central pole. The fire was lit in the tent stove, pushed closer to her bed. Any moment now, Constantin should be returning with a bed warmer they could load up with hot coals to really get that temperature up. Any moment now. 

	Suddenly, he sprung up from the floor, a purposeful smile on his face. [color=firebrick]"Bottles!"[/color] he cried, pointing his fingers in the air with the most grandiose of "AHA!" moments. Perhaps there [i]was[/i] somethig useful he could do.  [color=firebrick]"Ve need bottle! Glass bottle! Clay bottle! Stone, steel, full vith vater! Yes!"[/color] The intent was to place said bottles upon the tent stove, thusly making quick and simple, bed-friendly sources of replaceable heat. [color=firebrick]"HA!"[/color]

	With that, he ran for the exit. 


[hr][hr][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/b4c8d8bb-ce6c-4f28-ae48-5db57c8bd072.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/4b/8b/f9/4b8bf9bf56e16949792ee05fe7b3e8c5.jpg[/img]
[sub][color=c0c0c0]"He sent out His word and healed them, and delivered them from their destruction."[/color][/sub]

[hr][color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] Regent's Park -> Russian Imperial Circus - Tent City (Regent's Park)[/center][hr][hr]

	The Circus seemed to be in some sort of uproar, though for what reason Mary could not tell. The sudden twitching of her young charge, Adam, followed by a eerily serious command issuing direction was noted by Mary with some wonder and concern. The last couple of days had taken her from normal (or what passed for normal for her) to the cusp of one of her greatest fears: an uprising of Soulless that threatened all of Humanity. With this in mind, she was willing to take a few things on faith. Taking things on faith was in her job description, anyway. 

	Mary reined her horse in the direction that Adam pointed, her heart filling with a sense of dread purpose. She was fully in the belief that the boy, through whatever window of Divinity, had been given the task of guiding her in that moment. Of course thinking logically, if someone like Mary were needed in a hurry, enough to warrant guidance from on high, it could not be good. Her talents mostly lay in rooting out and destroying threats to God's children, waging wars both quiet and overt upon the Soulless. Yes, she had to get wherever Adam was pointing. 

	As soon as her decision was etched upon her face in stone, Mary and Adam were greeted in extreme passing by a massive, white tiger, bounding along on its own direct path. The crowd parted, as any sensible group of persons should when an animal that dangerous moves among them. Mary noted with some satisfaction that the tiger was moving in generally the same direction that Adam pointed while having his curious episode just then. Again with satisfaction, Mary noted too that Cassius didn't react whatsoever to the massive apex predator rushing past them. Immediately afterward, what appeared to be a Russian Nun parting the distance, calling back for Vlad. 

	[color=c0c0c0]"Vlad?"[/color] she wondered aloud. [color=c0c0c0]"But isn't that...?"[/color] Now, while the young Apostolic's brain was focusing on the odd Russian knife thrower who gave her a ride back to St. Etheldreda's, the question she almost got finished asking was answered by that very man, hauling his human cargo as fast as he possibly could through the path that the tiger opened. He did not even notice Mary and Adam atop the splendid grey horse, foreigners within the boundaries of their Great and Most Splendid Tent City. Someone was hurt. And Adam correctly predicted where they were headed, as if Mary needed to be there. 

	It was a little slower moving, getting to that tent. Tent was perhaps not the most appropriate word for the temporary shelter; Silk and Canvas Palace might have been better. It was opulent as far as tents went. Fit for an Emperor, or at least an Emperor's daughter. Then it hit Mary like a gnawing, burning worry. [i]Who was Vladimir carrying?[/i] Mary slid from Cassius and fized his reins to the nearest strong, deep pavilion stake. It was not the most appropriate place for a horse, granted, but it would keep him around until she returned and made apologies later. She took up her halberd and helped Adam down, instructing, [color=c0c0c0]"Stick close and stay quiet, Adam. I do not know how we will be received."[/color] 

	With resolve, Mary strode up to the tent with little Adam in tow. She was unsure as to what she might say, but knew that she had to meet this head on. Someone, probably someone she had come to consider a friend in a short time, needed her. She had just raised her hand to announce her presence upon the tent's canvas opening when a familiar face popped out. It was Vlad. And seemed very happy to see her. [color=firebrick]"Scary Catholic Lady! HA! Da, DA! Come in, you come in, but qvickly!"[/color] he barely allowed Mary to cross the threshold before exclaiming her presence in his native Russian, [color=firebrick]"Это страшная католическая леди! Ах, Дама Мэри Хейл, из Ватикана! Мэри - друг Веты, новая арка-могила. Мы позволим ей помочь, если сможет."[/color][sub]1[/sub] [color=firebrick]"Everybody, out ov vay! Please, Sister-Knight, vill you pray over our Veta? Can you help?"[/color] 

	Mary swallowed and looked over Veta. [i]And her tiger.[/i] It was a foregone conclusion that she would have to get within mauling range to help her, so she needed a couple of things first. She offered her main weapon to Adam, stating, [color=c0c0c0]"Please take this and stand to the side, Adam. Lay it down carefully if you need to, but out of the way. Thank you."[/color] and to Vladimir, [color=c0c0c0]"What has happened to her?"[/color] 

	Vladimir dropped most of his pretense, opting for quick, direct answers. [color=firebrick]"Soulless attack, or Monster. I do not know. Ink-black vith tentacles, vas invisible at first. Had two heads, froze everything it is touching or coming near. Lake became as [i]ice[/i]. It vas trying to kill just Veta, like assassin."[/color] First the Arch Graveolase, now the Grand Duchess. Highly placed individuals. Mary thought she might be next, now that she had position, however temporary. Well, let them come. People might be ready this time. But the description of the Soulless had her at a disadvantage. 

	[color=c0c0c0]"I cannot claim to know what that was, Master Alexandrov. But I will try to help, if I can."[/color] Mary walked over to the unconscious form of Veta on her nicely appointed bed, complete with tiger. She only hoped that Myshka would recognize her as a friend, someone who was there to help his mistress. She removed her rosary from her belt and slowly brought it to Mary's forehead, holding the crucifix lightly to her freezing skin. With her other hand above Elizaveta's heart, Mary began to pray. She focused her prayer into a mental centering as she opened herself up to the Vatican trained skill of [i]Timyne[/i], attempting to drive the affliction from her friend. 

	[color=c0c0c0]"[i]In nomine Patris, et Fillii et Spiritus Sancti.[/i] Loving Father, be it Your will, I beg that you shine a ray of Mercy upon your servant, Elizaveta. Remove the corruption and preserve her Soul, O Lord. Knit her flesh, that she may still serve you on Earth. Please spare this woman. Please, in your infinite wisdom and capacity for love, raise her from this affliction and put strength into her limbs. In nomine Patris, et Fillii et Spiritus Sancti.[/color] 

	Back at the tent opening, Vladimir was slowly backing out, mumbling quietly, [color=firebrick]"...bottlesbottlesbottles..."[/color] 
	

[hider=Translations]
1	=	This is Scary Catholic Lady! Ah, Dame Mary Hale, from the Vatican! Mary is a friend to Veta, and the new Arch Graveolase. We will let her help, if she can. 
[/hider]