[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]Annan, Scotland[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center]

	Calum eyed her for a Maeve for a moment as she refused his hand. She said it didn't bother her but the way she wouldn't look at him made him think otherwise. Sighing a bit he began to climb into the carriage. He had made it about half way up the steps before his show slipped and he face planted into the floor of the carriage with his body splayed out down the stairs and feet dragging the ground. This brought a roar of laughter from Rory and a "Oh fuddle..." from the Parson/Priest. 

	"You foozler, thought you have finally out grown that double left footedness of yers," Rory exclaimed between the guffaws. Slowly righting himself Calum shot Rory a look. 

	"Oh put a cork in it you meater," Calum snipped back before finally climbing into the carriage and shutting the door. Two hard thumps later to the roof by Calum and they were off. Sitting there, Calum brushed the knees of his trousers off. He decided it was probably best to keep quiet for the rest of the ride. Thankfully it wasn't long before they were pulling into Annan proper and down the streets. The area was far nicer and more civil than the port had been but that was too be expected. Most cities were like that. The docks were never a kind place. Not that the cities were any better but they at least pretended to be so. 

	As the carriage pulled to a stop Calum looked over to Maeve. "Mad at me or not, you do need to act like everything is fine. That means accepting my hand when I offer it or you risk Lady Kirkpatrick not wanting you to be looking after her house," he said before the door of the carriage opened. Letting out a breath he slipped out of the carriage and gave a sideways glance towards Rory before holding it hand out to Maeve. 

[center][hr][h1][b][i][color=2956b2]England[/color][/i][/b][/h1][hr][/center]

	[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] Same as before
	[color=2956b2]Group:[/color] The Crypts - Side note for Mosi
[hider=My Hider]
	 Okay, you put your left hand in you take your left hand out, you put your left hand in and you shake it all about. You to the hokey... oh fuck it. LOL You know the drill. Can't remember if Virginia had plans today or not, so if she did, it might be getting around that time, if not no worries. There will be an obituary in the papers for Mosi, stating that the funeral will be this evening at Mosi's family's home. (Riv, Morose, don't know how you two want to handle this but here is an article on it - http://www.angelpig.net/victorian/mourning.html - might give you some ideas. Pm me if you want to work in the funeral to the Rp or not) - 7 days
[/hider]

	[b][i][color=2956b2]The Strand:[/color][/i][/b] "No, no madam, I be fine, just feelin' a bit amoke. Sure I be right as rain as long as I don't be tryin' to sleep for a bit," Sarah Ann said in a not too convincing voice. "Don't want to be keepin' ya from anything miss." That sentence though came through with utter honesty. Sarah didn't want to put Francis out by asking her to sit with her. Right then she wasn't sure if she wanted anyone to sit with her or if she just wanted to be alone. Neither of the options really seemed like good ones in her mind. 

	Sighing she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stared at the ground a bit. "Least be tellin' me that body be done gone, don'ts wants to be thinking abouts lookin' out the window and seein' it still layin' there, she said before shivering slightly and wrapping her arms around herself. Sure, some of the girls snickered at her but she had to wonder just how well any one of them would have taken a body rolling down the hill at them so while she felt at her nerves end she wasn't too hard on herself for having a nightmare about the entire situation. 

	Over at Nuetermyre's Michael nodded a bit towards Thalken. "You and me both lad, this is not the man I want tending to me corpse," he said as they hauled the body inside. Walking down the hallway Michael took the lead and headed towards a room in the back. The door was unmarked but swung open readily enough. The room itself looked like what one would call an operating room in the day. The walls were lined with shelves that held various odd looking items and there were several tables of wood in the center of the room, all stained with old blood that just couldn't be scrubbed off enough. Looking at the state of the room, one had to wonder if it was ever cleaned considering the amount of dust on most things. The only clean areas seemed to be areas on glass jars that had been touched and picked up and only the place where the hand had grabbed it was clean of the filth. 

	Sighing Michael hefted the body onto one of the tables and groaned a bit as a thick puff of dust billowed up and caught in the light coming in from the windows. "Half tempted to just leave this body here and see if it attacks him," he muttered under his breath. Not that he would have actually done such a thing but considering how Nuetermyre acted half the time, or more likely all the time, it would serve him right to be drained by a new born Soulless. Yet Michael knew even if they did leave, it hadn't been enough time to turn. Mores the pity. Wiping his hands off on his apron, he then pulled out a handkerchief and held it out for Thalken. "Probably the cleanest thing to touch in this place, I wouldn't even trust the water," he said glancing towards the pitcher and basin, which was in just as horrid condition as everything else in the place.  

	[b][i][color=2956b2]Regent's Park:[/color][/i][/b] Sister Sophia was not sure what Vlad was going on about with the bottles but if the crazed man had an idea she was not about to stand in his way. Thing was there were none in this tent. Things were brought to the Grand Duchess, they didn't just lay about. The only bottles she had were filled with perfumes and oils. Small decorative. Not of use for much anything else. 

	Adam stayed close to Mary and his eyes widened as she handed over her pole arm. He took it and nodded, trying to stay out of the way but his eyes remained trained on Veta, who was a blue lipped as ever and not moving as of yet. His head tilted to one side and the other. "She's cold, so cold," he said absentmindedly. 

	Sister Sophia looked over Mary for a moment before eying the child. She nearly snapped at him for being so daft as to state the obvious but then Adam spoke again. "Won't get warm in wet clothes, it clings to her. Keeps her chilled," he added. The Russian nun wanted to slap herself for not thinking that herself. It was such an obvious thing. They had been so quick to try other things they had forgotten the basics. Ones people of Russia knew well for all the cold and winters they had to survive. Cold, water, and clothing did not mix. 

	"Here, help me... Sister..?" Sister Sophia said as she grabbed Elizaveta's dressing gown and knelt next to the grand duchess. "Turn around boy, this is not for your eyes. Keep others out," she instructed, not even looking as she took Elizaveta by the shoulders and slowly and carefully pulled her forward. Adam didn't question, just stepping over to the tent's door and standing in the middle of it with the pole arm. Not like he could wield it, he could barely hold but damn it if he wouldn't tell anyone that came that they shall not pass! 

	[b][i][color=2956b2]Westminster Hospital:[/color][/i][/b] Dr. Graham sighed. "I know not of the routes to take to get there. Roads are never an easy travel and I myself have not been outside of the city in some time." He sounded slightly defeated. He would have enjoyed being able to give the men routes that they could have taken that would have allowed them to move with haste but he just had none. "Perhaps some in your regiment would know? Military and all I would think you all would know the roads better than us gentile folk," the doctor added before looking back at the map on the wall. 

	Reaching up his fingers ran over it. "Though, knowing what I do of Rutherford, which I wish I knew nothing at all of the man. He has a residence in Nottingham. A place for relaxation to get away he says but I doubt as much. If he is traveling to Gretna Green, chances are he will side off there to change horses and such. That might buy you some time but other than that I know of nothing besides his home at Kirk Andrews near the border."

	The doctor did not know what else to tell them other than the following. "If you are going to make chase, I suggest you do it quickly." 

	"Dr. Graham!!" the nurse bellowed as she stood in the doorway of Mrs. Wyndham's room. 

	"Yes, yes..." he said before bidding the two good luck and asking them to contact them if they learned or needed anything. With that he was down the hallway to deal with a bellowing Mrs. Wyndham who was demanding attention for her suffering and pain, of which he had no doubt about. He was sure the woman was in pain but he couldn't help but feel that much of it was brought on by her own yelling and attitude.