Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by mnkee
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mnkee *Retired Account

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Location: Westminster Hospital


- "Your World Will Fail" by Les Friction




Fyror nodded his head solemnly, before his gaze followed Dr. Graham's to the map on the wall. It was a shame that the doctor did not have a specific route in mind that would get them to Gretna Green the quickest. He himself was perhaps a bit lacking in knowledge of the roads in that particular part of the country, and particularly those beyond the border. However, he fortunately had sufficient resources on hand to get them where they needed to go. "I must consult my father Colonel Theodore on the matter. He may know of any back routes that could get us to Gretna Green quicker. If not, we will have to stick to the main roads. I have several maps that should suffice," he stated. He glanced over at Gerard as he spoke, making sure to include the man in the matter. He took a mental note of the additional places that Dr. Graham mentioned before bidding the man farewell as the man was called back to work. Fyror then turned to face Gerard fully. He nodded his head in acknowledgement of the man's introduction.

"I wish we could have had the pleasure of meeting under less pressing circumstances," he replied, before quickly getting to business. "My family is staying in an inn just two parks down. As I said, I need to consult with my father regarding what route would be quickest. I figure we can use one of the regiment's coaches. We will also need provisions, as the journey will take several days. I could just pick you up here once I get what we need." He didn't give Gerard much time to respond as he was already backing away, and soon enough he had turned his back to Gerard and had taken off at a sprint. His boots hit the ground with dull thuds and his sheathed sword clanked at his side as he wasted little time running through the halls of Westminster Hospital towards the front entrance.







Location: The Strand (Nuetermyre's)




- "I'll Be Good" by Jaymes Young




Thalken lifted his end of the dead body and then followed Michael's lead. He carefully helped carry the body inside Nuetermyre's to the backroom. He wrinkled his nose shortly upon entering said room, as practically everything was covered in a film of dust. He gladly dumped the body onto one of the blood stained tables, but he was subsequently rewarded with a thick cloud of dust. He coughed and quickly covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve. His dark eyed gaze looked around the room, taking in its decrepit state with clear distaste.

He glanced over at Michael, barely catching what the man muttered under his breath. "That's assuming the cause of death was of Soulless origin," he stated, pulling his sleeve away from his mouth while he spoke. He then covered his mouth and nose again as he started coughing. He turned back towards the body, looking it over carefully once more. Surely there was some clue that would more obviously link it to the dead bodies found at the docks. He looked back over at Michael as the man offered him a handkerchief. Thalken eyed it for a moment before grudgingly accepting it. "Thanks," he muttered. The words were almost inaudible, but nevertheless he said them. Maybe things were looking up for him after all.

Meanwhile, at the Talink Estate, the Lady Virginia Crypt's letter had finally arrived at its destination. "Sir Beowulf, a letter has arrived for you from the Lady Crypt," a young servant boy exclaimed, grabbing the attention of Thalken's father Beowulf. He looked up from the papers he was going over, his dark eyed gaze landing on the servant.

"Give it to me then," Beowulf retorted gruffly and impatiently held out his hand. It was no doubt easy to see Thalken's resemblance to the man, both in appearance and mannerisms. This of course was to Thalken's utmost displeasure. The servant hastily handed the letter over to his rather imposing master and exited the room in a similarly swift manner. It wasn't unknown to the staff the kind of nefarious dealings the Talinks were involved in. With that in mind, one must tread carefully in this household if they wished to live to see another day.

There was little reason, outside a potential business transaction, for the Crypts to contact to him, so Beowulf wasted little time opening the letter and carefully reading it over. A smirk came to his features upon reading it. Given the content of the letter, regarding the dire circumstances surrounding the Viscount Wenwynith, it was certainly inappropriate to find any sort of pleasure from it. And yet, in a devilish way he did. He did not wish the family harm, per se. No, it was more that he found this to be a convenient opportunity to extort them into giving him what he wanted. Given the Crypts were a family of title, power, and riches, it was anyone's guess what he truly wanted. Ultimately, he would take full advantage of the unfortunate predicament the Crypt family had found themselves in. He grabbed a piece of parchment and began penning a simple letter in response.



Beowulf then sealed and addressed the letter before waving over a servant to take them. "Thalcona! Thalken!" he then called out to his children. His deep, demanding voice carried through the expanse of their home. After a few relatively short minutes, Thalcona alone emerged into the study.

"I surmise your brother is out causing trouble," he stated.

"Yes, father." Thalcona replied simply, nodding her head.

"Good then. We are taking the carriage to Crypt Manor to discuss the terms of a business transaction," Beowulf exclaimed as he stood up from his desk. "We are leaving now."
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by rivaan
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rivaan

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Constantin Kolev


Location: The Tent City.




“Make vay... make vay...” Constantin was calling nonstop as he was pulling everything he was able to grab form the cold weather gear along with the bed warmer. He's steps were rapid as he felt himself almost run full speed across the path towards Veta's tent.

'Just hold a little more, Veta!' He thought has he was almost about to start pushing people out his way.

“I bring the gear!” He called loudly as soon as he thought he should be in hearing range of the tent.” Get out of the vay!” He called to the people around him. Few things concerned him as much as the his friend's survival right now. She was getting an earful when she gets better!

“The warmers are here!” He called as he reached the tent. He was breathing heavy right now as she too was coming to realize that well.. he was running around with wet clothing. Was probably a really good idea to go change after this. Getting sick wouldn't be good for anyone even with more used to cold body, there were still limitations.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Morose
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Morose ✨Krakoan Princess✨

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Location: Crypt Manor (London)
#SomethingWickedThisWayComes


Virginia and Miss Evers emerged from the basement laboratory, the two of them in the midst of some sort of conversation. To an outsider, it likely would've been horrible, the type to cause one's blood to chill. But to Virginia and her companion, it was simply the way their world operated. Miss Evers had been hand selected by Lady Dywell, with the maid narrowly escaping institutionalization. Virginia's mother had been the one to intervene, having spent too much time in bedlam herself prior to marrying Lord Dywell.

"Miss Evers, should affairs become most dire, I have careful instructions that I wish for you to enact. I would entrust these to Alfred, but I am afraid he does not have your murderous spirit," Virginia said calmly, as she shut and locked the laboratory door. "Should James be in mortal peril and he cannot be saved, you are to end his life. I would rather he die at your hand than at the will of the Soulless." Virginia then paused for a moment. "And should I perish in these coming days, I wish for you and Alfred to take James to America. Raise him as if he were your own and inspire him to keep the family traditions."

Virginia ignored Miss Evers' chattering that followed, only noting that the woman had accepted her terms. Miss Evers was an odd one, but the closest Crypt family members were not in England. They were scattered around the globe and it could be too late before they could be contacted. Besides, James had grown up with Alfred and Miss Evers. He would likely be more comfortable. Though speaking of the devil, a wearied Alfred found Virginia and Miss Evers in the halls, a paper in his hands.

"They're burying Miss Crane tonight, my lady," Alfred said somberly. He then took in Virginia's tattered appearance, with the blood caking her ripped gown. "Bad day, is it?"

"Quite. Where is James? I have matters to discuss with him."



Location: Annan


Maeve would've been amused with the parson-priest falling in his usual clumsiness, had she not been aware that he had been faking the motions for the past day. From Maeve's perspective, it was his attempt at winning her favor, something that it was hardly going to do. Her mind had been refocused on tending to the needs of her daughter through this job and any feelings she had had for the parson-priest were gone, as far as Maeve was aware. The peace and quiet of the ride was nice, however. She got to close her eyes for a little bit and enjoy her own private thoughts and memories.

She rarely ever had a moment of silence in her life. Even with a deaf daughter, noise still filled their home. The trip to Scotland had been no exception, noisy and frantic. This was welcome a treat. She couldn't help but feel irritated as the protestant(?) continued to insist that she was cross with him. The more he insisted she was irritated, the more annoyed with him Maeve felt. Even if she hadn't been annoyed to start with, she was certainly vexed by now.

Reminding herself of her duty to her daughter, Maeve took the parson-priest's hand and descended from the carriage.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Lady Absinthia
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Lady Absinthia ⚘ Blossoming ⚘

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March 22nd, 1823

Annan, Scotland



Calum took Maeve's hand and escorted her out of the carriage. Annan was far more pleasant a place than the port had been. Rory looked down from atop of the carriage and smirked a bit as he reached back and shut the door for them.

"Why don't you be a good lad and take the carriage and our things over to the Hotel," Calum said but Rory shook his head. "Why not?"

"Because that lad knows if he moves an inch without me I will cane him," an elderly voice suddenly chirped in from behind them. Standing in the doorway of the dress shop was an older woman with the heaviest beadworking on her coat. Her hands rested a top of her cane as she eyed Maeve. Calum whipped his head around and nearly stumbled over his own two feet as he tried to step over to her to greet her.

"Oh Fuddle," he muttered as he caught himself.

"Oh fuddle is right. How you have not managed to set the cathedral a flame because of your lack of grace is truly bewildering Father Blair," the woman said as she huffed and rolled her eyes.

Rory couldn't help but roar with laughter. "That be right hittin' the ol' nail on the head m'Lady!"

"Button your lip Rory before I belt it for you," she said as she took a step forward and headed directly towards Maeve. "So you are supposed to be helping me run a household since apparently I have not enough wit about me to continue to be able to succeed in such endeavors on my own."

"Oh No Lady Kirkpatrick, your son is only wishing to help lighten the load for you," Calum said but his words were cut short as the blunt end of the cane found his shin. "Saint's, Mary, And Joseph!!!" he yelped.

"I wasn't speaking to you Father O' Fuddle. I was speaking to the girl."


England



Case Name: A Funeral
Location: London
Time: Cover 1 Hour Of Game Time
Reason: People Have To Be Put To Rest
Group: Virginia & Company, Mosi's Family


Case Name: Your Princess is in another Castle
Location: Starting Point: London
Time: Cover 2 Hours of Game Time
Reason: Every good story needs a rescue
Group: Fyror & Gerard

The Strand: Sarah Ann looked up at Francis and nodded a bit. She understood what the madam was saying but she still didn't want to be a bother. Rising from her place she tentatively walked over to the window and slowly drew back the curtain just enough to take a look down at the street. One could see a relaxing in the girls shoulders as her eyes took note that there was no longer a body there and in fact what blood had been there was now gone. The only thing left was a splash of water and a bucket up against the wall near there. "I think I be okay," she said in a shaky voice, more trying to convince herself than Francis. "Just be needing a few minutes to collect meself, thens I be rights down ma'am," she added as she kept staring out of the window.

Michael turned the old mans head to the side and pulled down his neckerchief revealing two puncture wounds. "Yeah, I'd say it was a Soulless," he said quietly before stepping back from the corpse. Stepping over to another table and finding the cleanest spot, which was hardly clean, to lean against he crossed his arms over his chest. "But this doesn't bother me half as much as the fact there are apparently even more bodies. One here and there doesn't really alarm me, when there is a lot of killings in one place that gets under my skin," he mentioned in passing. The constables couldn't come because of a pile of bodies elsewhere, and of course he had already heard about the many Soulless showing up the night before at Almacks. If there were that many in the city, they had to be hiding somewhere. "But where..." he mused to himself, not realizing he had let those two words slip out in the middle of his thoughts.

Regent's Park: "Yeah, she's naked, stay back," Adam said with a determination and fire well beyond his years. It was half disturbing and half adorable to see the boy try to hold the pole arm like he was a master of it even though it was far bigger than he was and probably weighed just as much.

"Working with Gods Speed," Sister Sophia called out as with the help of Mary she started to peel off Elizaveta's clothing. She had yelled at the Grand Duchess more than once about wearing so little in the way of covering before, wanting the young Czarina to be to remain covered from head to toe at all times, but for once she was not angry at the girl. While yes, the straps of silk and organza were not ideal, they held far less of the icy water and were much easier to remove than if Elizaveta had been in her full royal garb.

Adam spotted Constantin coming up carrying buckets but he held his ground. "You cannot pass!" he yelled in a young cockney accent and tightened his grip on the pole arm. Sister Sophia managed to get Elizaveta's dressing grown pulled to and tied around her waist thanks to the help of Sister Mary. Laying the girl down back against Myska she pulled the covers over her and looked towards tent flap.

"Yes, yes, let them in," she called out. Adam shrugged and stepped aside but part of the pole arm was still trailing the ground, someone would trip if they weren't careful.

"Okay, you can pass," he said as he stood there and finally looked back into the tent now as he pushed back the fold of cloth that was the door. "She going to be okay?" he asked Mary as his lips thinned to see her body still shivering violently.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Sigil
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Sigil Literary Hatchetman

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"The tempest comes out from its chamber, the cold from the driving winds."

Location: Russian Imperial Circus - Tent City (Regent's Park)




Give the kid a task, he takes it as a sacred mission. Mary had to admit that the child, Adam, took to his duties with extreme gusto. Perhaps even a little more than herself, when she was younger. People had accused her of being too rigid, too formal in her actions; even so much to say that "leisure" was a foreign concept to her. Well, maybe it was. With the threat of Soulless hanging above the collective heads of humanity like the sword Damocles and her people at the vanguard of this peril, there wasn't much motivation to learn more casual social niceties. Another time, another set of global circumstances, maybe. There was no time for it now, and further, she did not have inclination to encourage that in Adam.

There was a certain amount of satisfaction in the boy, though. Even though he was just playing at being a knight, he was doing so effectively in someone else's camp, and doing so to persons of importance within said camp. The kid was not easily shaken. This was a good thing. Of course, it probably helped that he was going about it in a manner that was disarmingly adorable. It brought a tiny smile to Mary's face. The smile faded back away when she realized that she gave a large, unbalancing weapon to a small child and told him to stand guard. She dearly hoped that no one would get hurt.

When Sister Sophia declared that it was safe for others to enter, Mary was not surprised to see Adam first. She waved him inside, silently bidding that he take his place next to her. As the others entered, she answered the question put before her. "I am not trained as a physician, Adam. But she is much drier now, thanks to your observations, and has a better chance at recovery. I am certain that these people will do everything in their power for their Grand Duchess."

Indeed they seemed to be doing exactly that, and with haste, if not precisely organization in the strictest sense of the word. Vladimir's own son had long vacated the tent after lighting the stove, for what ends she could not say, but that did not stop the older man himself from barging back in after Adam, clutching several earthenware bottles. The Russians obviously had a plan underway, and so Mary took a step away from the bed to provide them room to work.





Passive Skills:
  • Fal'shbort - You are tougher, stronger, more Russian!
  • Tretiy Glaz - An ability that gives a person a sixth sense into the future. Unpredictable and random.


Location: Russian Imperial Circus - Tent City (Regent's Park)




Several things seemed wrong with the day so far. Let us ignore the big, black, tentacled ice monster that tried to murder his little Veta, though that was admittedly the most important event thusfar. No, Vladimir was really more referring to the host of oddballs that somehow made it into his Circus, including those in residence within the canvas structures and wagons of the Tent City. Their Firewalker was one of them, without question. Vlad had come near to pulling out sections of his own hair earlier that day during his moment of desecrating a perfectly good sword. But he did seem so eager to help. It was somewhat redeeming. Then, there was a removed cousin who, for whatever reason, was carrying around a drinking vessel with some manner of reddish-pink, sweetened urine (though he was beginning to suspect it might have been another, more practically explained fluid - although the jury was still deliberating). And lastly, here coming up to Elizaveta's tent, was a small Cockney child butchering his own native language and waving about a weapon much, much taller than himself, with a fierceness that was equal parts maddening and endearing. Or would have been, if the tiny slayer were not between himself and someone he cared about deeply who was in dire need of medicinal attentions.

Luckily, the situation was righted almost as quickly as it began. Vladimir waved a cautionary finger at Adam as the scamp disappeared back into the tent. He might have taken a swipe at the back of his head, but his arms were quite full at the moment. The finger wag would have to suffice until he could get at Adam later, if he remembered. Then again, there was Пугающая католическая девушка to consider. Even if the kid didn't know how to use that weapon, he had an idea that she would prove a sharper challenge. English women were not especially known for their combat prowess, though he had seen a couple that might answer that statement with a grin since he arrived in London.

But dipping back to Constantin, their resident firewalker and the only one to join him deep in the fog earlier; the man came bounding up to the tent carrying armloads of ...stuff... All kinds of stuff. Lots and lots and stuff. Vladimir's eyes widened in surprise and disbelief, staring under quickly frizzing hair that was drying fast over the heat of his blood boiling, coursing just underneath his scalp and thudding dully in his temples.

"Боже мой!" he snapped, face tight and slightly contorted. "Constantin! Vhat hell, eh? You did get the..." No! This was not helping the situation. He shuffled the bottles to one arm as best he could given his predicament, and scrutinized the haul. From among all of the stuff he had gathered, Vladimir extracted a single brass bed warmer, extended a tense but polite word of gratitude; Спасибо, Constantin." and disappeared into the tent.

Vladimir wasted no time in depositing his bottles upon the flat top of the tent stove, hoping it would not be too long before the water inside warmed to a degree sufficient to provide an hour or so of good, solid heat for his little Veta. But to expedite the process, he opened the top of the bed warmer, and with the small iron shovel hanging from the stove deposited a good scoopful of live gledes into the vessel. He gave them a good shake and using as much care as he could, slipped the warmer underneath the thick coverings of the Grand Duchess's bed. "It will have to do, until vater heats. Vater!" The mildly unhinged Russian darted back to the stove and unstoppered each of the bottles. To leave them otherwise would have been to invite haphazard projectiles inside of the tent, that while a thoroughly amusing prank to pull in the winter months, would have been spectacularly bad that day. "Vhen steams little, cork tops. Wrap tight vith cloth and place into bed vith Veta and Kitty. Da? Two at time."

The word "da" seemed to signal that Vladimir was allowing himself to feel the cold to which he had been subjected. He looked unsteady on his feet now that the adrenaline was wearing down, and retreated from the bed, nearer to the stove. Not ordinarily a man to tire so easily, the past hour had been physically and emotionally draining. He could only imagine what Elizaveta must be going through, being in the clutches of that creature directly. Vlad could only hope that their efforts would save her life.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Sputnik
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Sputnik Lost in Space

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Frances Warwick




Location: The Glimmeric;



Frances quietly watched the girl rise up to her seat and walkt towards the window, she could see the relief coming over her yet her voice still has a small hint of troubling, trying her best to keep herself together. Frances slowly nodded acknowledging what she said, "Of course." the madame didn't leave for a while, partly making sure if she was truly fine like she said, although this still doubts the madame. As she quietly observed the girl, Frances wonders the things that goes on in her mind as she stood fixated on the view outside the window. She's not quite sure if staring at the scene of the crime would really help her find some peace. Frances truly believes it will take some time before she can recover, though she knows internally she's stronger than what she seems. They always are.

The madam then left Sarah Ann to her peace, Ruby following her out and both women exchanged glances as they stood outside her room. Up to this moment the constable has still not arrived, as what they have been expecting the whole morning. Ruby voiced out her worry that they would be pressured or even blamed at the seemingly odd and suspicious murder that happened just in front of their establishment. "I know, but that is not entirely what I'm worried about." She gave her a look, it took a short while before Ruby knew what she was talking about. Her face turned to worry, that specially Frances could tell under her curved a sarcastic smile. "You don't mean...". "I'm not going to have us risk a murderous soulless being this close to us. What happened at Almacks, the docks, a very unlikely coincidence, no?" Ruby kept silent, and was still trying to make sense of what the madam has said "If alls that true, then what should we suppose to do?" "For now, I suppose we wait. " she said sternly.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by rivaan
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rivaan

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Constantin Kolev


Location: The Tent City.




“'HO DARES VHEN I'M IN A HURRY!!?” Constantin had roared at his apparent stop in his tracks with the phrase 'You cannot pass!' of all things. He was in a real hurry and luckily for whomever had stopped him, green light to continue was given moments later. Someone was up for a punch... or two.

“Да! Cold veather gear! Bedwarmer! Coat! Anythign to use for varmth!” Constantin stated as Vlad had pulled the bedwarmer and stormed inside.

The firewalker proceeded to enter the tent and drop the rest of the things by the side of the entrance. He saw some family and unfamiliar faces here. It didn't matter much though, all that was of importance was that Veta got better.

“Can I help anyhow else?” He asked, running a hand across his still wet hair. The chill had settled in onto his body because of the wet clothes as he shivered, but he placed Veta above himself right now. There were few things he valued his friends and family from the circus more than anythign else.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by mnkee
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mnkee *Retired Account

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Location: The Strand (Nuetermyre's)




- "I'll Be Good" by Jaymes Young




"God dammit," Thalken cursed under his breath when Michael uncovered two puncture wounds on the dead man's neck. How in the hell did he miss that?! He scowled down at the body, as if that would remedy the situation. That dark intensity that was all too common with him was once more overtaking his features. And yet, despite the fact that his demeanor would suggest otherwise, the gears were turning in his head. Perhaps he did his best problem solving when he was brooding. Who knows.

His mind went back to the bodies on the docks. He remembered how their precise layout had led him to the exact location of the last remaining body. The odd thing was that unlike this body, the cause of death of the bodies at the docks did not appear to be of Soulless origin. Unless of course he missed some blatant clue like he did here. "God dammit," he exclaimed louder this time. He let out an annoyed huff.

He stiffly turned to face Michael as the man said something in passing. Unlike the man, Thalken was not so much bothered by the amount of deaths. After all, he was no stranger to tragedy. Honestly, it would have bothered him more if the people had been killed by the Talinks, namely his father, rather than Soulless. His family already have too much blood on their hands. The Soulless on the other hand were surely just getting started. No, what bothered him was that he couldn't figure this damn puzzle out.

He pursed his lips in thought at Michael's last comment. Where would the Soulless hide? "Abandoned buildings," he stated simply. Without another word, he tossed the handkerchief back over to Michael and then strode out of the room.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Morose
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Morose ✨Krakoan Princess✨

Member Seen 3 days ago





Location: Mournweald Estate, London


Over at the Mournweald estate the preparations for Mosi's funeral were in full bloom... almost. To the complete horror of Clarice Crane, the mother of the departed, the funeral preparations had hit a hurdle. Half of the family expressed complete refusal to proceed with the proper etiquette required for the upcoming grim event. Mosi was her daughter and while she didn't always see eye to eye with her, the proper etiquette and the traditions demanded a proper funeral.

“No, stop this.” A young man stated with firm voice, cutting off his own mother's path.” We CANNOT proceed with this. You know my sister's will. She demanded direct cremation in any event of her death and for everything else to be handled by her friend from the colonies.” Ernest Crane stated with one of his sister by his side to support him.

“Stop this...” Their mother growled really low as to not make excess sound, throwing a look at the house servants.” You know the traditions, the funeral will be held tonight...”

“NO.” The young man stated again.” I personally wrote her will since she couldn't. It is clear as day... at least her death, she will face as she wishes.” The young man wouldn't budge from his position. He himself didn't interact much with Mosi, but that was both because difference in age and the fact he respected her to leave her free. He didn't wish to lose his sister like that, but now she was dead and dammit, he regretted not interacting with her more.

“Stop this... it's unsightly.” Beatrice said in really low voice.” Just do the traditions... people expect it. She's already dead, Ernest. She won't mind.” The sister stated to the huge shock of her still living sister.” What? She did whatever she pleased with all her life, she cannot stupidly rebel and tarnish our name any further now. Beside what will... it's not official.”

“Tell me, you didn't mean that!” Bridgitte, the second sister uttered in disbelieve.

“What didn't I mean? That our family's the bad talk of everyone? The rumors? The disgrace?” Beatrice stated flatly.

The tensions were high right now as Clarice found herself at the bridge of a huge family scandal right in the worst of possible timing. Worst part was that her husband, William had entered his study after the earlier argument about what to do about the funeral and hadn't left since. He was unable to decide.

Outside of the estate itself, the Crypt carriage finally arrived after its departure from Crypt Manor. Virginia was accompanied by Alfred and her brother, all of them dressed in fine mourning attire, appropriate for this day and age. There was never a shortage of black clothes in any Crypt household, even if Virginia preferred an innocent lavender herself. The black gown only served to accent the paleness of Virginia and James, though Alfred's skin was nowhere near as ghastly in comparison.

"Ginny, are we gonna dance the mamushka for Mosi?" James asked eagerly, hardly containing himself as the Crypt family left the carriage. He was accompanying his sister for a few principal reasons. The death threats made against her brother's life made Virginia desire to keep him close. He had the traditional Crypt obsession with death and the macabre. And of course, the Crane family adored British tradition, from what Virginia had come to understand. The presence of the Viscount Wenwyinth might possibly be welcomed at the funeral, even if Virginia was the true acting head of the Crypt family at this moment in time.

"Of course. We danced the mamushka for Nero. We danced for La Voisin. And we danced for Mary Bateman. We'll dance for Mosi as well," Virginia explained. Virginia had only been alive for the dancing of the mamushka for the last individual, someone her father had admired very deeply. She remembered seeing the body on display after the execution. A soft smile graced Virginia's lips.

"Will Mary be here?" James suddenly added, as Alfred finished giving instructions to the carriage driver as to when to return. The funeral, Alfred imagined, would take a while. He was a bit apprehensive of the entire ordeal, knowing that Virginia and James would have different expectations for the burial than the Crane family would.

"If you keep asking after Sister Hale like that, someone might think you're taken with her, Master James," Alfred said seriously, though there was the slightest bit of a smug smile on his face.

"I am not!!!" James protested, looking as if Alfred had suggested that he might dress only in pink and wear ribbons in his hair.

"I believe you, Master James," Alfred replied, as the trio walked to the steps of the manor. "The real question is, Master James, whether or not Sister Hale will."

The rather unusual for the time commotion insie the Crane's family home was continuing as the siblings were arguing to a point that was bound to escalate into a full bown scandal when one of hte servants informed them that 3 people had just arrived outside in a carriage. Going by the description, Ernest turned towards the front entrance right away.

"Stop it." Beatrice called once more, she too getting the feeling knowing who arrived." Do you wish for our family to face even greater disrespect in the eyes of everyone? There are things we must uphold." She tried to bar his way, but was pulled away by her mother for her own susprise." Mother why are you stopping me?"

"This is enough... I do not wish for my remaining children to quarrel between themselves. Let's see what Lady Crypt will decide..." THe older woman stated as Ernest stormed past his sister and eventually out the front doorway of the estate.

"Lady Crypt, I'm glad to have you here... especially given the situation." Ernest stated with a rather rushed manner, forgoing some of the pleasantries that were normally going to be present whenever people arrive." My name's Ernest Crane." He introduced himself since he never really talked to or met up close Virginia or James for that matter.

"My sister... requested in her will that should she dies, she want's to be cremated right away, and Lady Crypt, you should be the one to organize the funeral ceremony aside that. She mentioned something about 'not wanting the bad influence of this society'..." Ernest quickly explained as Mosi's mother showed on the doorway, waiting to greet Virginia and James in after her son's done breaching the etiquette enough.

"Ernest, invite them inside already. This is not a talk for the public..." She stated coldly.

Virginia blinked. She was not used to normals speaking so quickly with actual purpose. Generally, there was what seemed to be a never ending round of pleasantries that precluded anything meaningful. It would be poor form, poor manners, to do otherwise. It did not strike her as a bit strange that Mosi had entrusted her burial procedures to Virginia, but more so that this was the first she was learning of it. It was already the evening hours and she had to imagine funeral preparations had already begun. She would've appreciated more notice to plan such an event for her dear friend, but it would have hardly changed matters too much. Virginia had spent a good deal of her time in the laboratory, attempting to uncover the truth behind a death threat.

"Can I watch the cremation?" James whispered, tugging a bit on Alfred's pant leg. The butler shook his head slightly--whether it was in affirmation or negation was hard to tell--but James seemed to take it positively. "Do you think she's got maggots?" James then added, hardly bothering to whisper this time. He was getting too excited about seeing a real corpse--the corpse of someone he knew, even. Strangers weren't nearly as interesting.

"Master James--" Alfred began, only for Virginia to hold up a hand. "Excellent question, little devil. Perhaps that is a project you could take on in addition to your lessons--the prediction of maggot infestation in corpses." James' jaw dropped at the very idea--his very own experiment! "In your laboratory?" James asked, hardly able to contain his glee.

"Yes, though Miss Evers might be persuaded to set up the dining room table for your studies for you," Virginia replied, before turning her attention fully to the Crane family. While most would have offered apologies for James' behavior, Virginia did not. He was a little boy and he acted his age. What was there to apologize for?

"Now, let us discuss the matters at hand," Virginia said, awaiting the formal invitation to enter the Crane household. "Bodies do not always rot as slowly as would be convenient."

“Yes...”Ernest muttered chosing to disregard the rather unsettling things that Virginia's brother was saying.” Please, welcome to our home.” He said, gesturing for the three to follow him inside.

Mosi's mother scowled and simply moved away, while the rather unfriendly sister just couldn't help herself but give both her brother and Virginia a hell of a unfriendly glare before choosing to go to her room.

“Me and Bridgitte have been trying to stall the funeral preparations until now.” Ernest explained.” Mother and Beatrice have been pushing to proceed with normal funeral for Jeanette. Since her wish was for you to handle it, can we assume you know what she wished for?” He asked. Frankly he didn't care much what people would say right now. He'd deal with it later. Saving face was important, but family was even more so. He realized it now, sadly too late to do anything about it.



Location: Annan


Annan was beautiful, though Maeve could not help but feel a bit of a longing for the streets of Dublin. It felt like it had been months since she was home, though it was considerably less time than that. Still, it had been more than just a few days since she had last seen her daughter and her family. Stifling a bit of a chuckle at the stern elderly voice--the image of either the parson or Rory getting hit with a cane was a comical one--Maeve turned to face the direction of the voice. Seeing the front of the dress shop, Maeve's eyes then focused in on the woman.

She seemed to be simultaneously frail and tough--frail from age, tough from just about everything else. Immediately, Maeve was already sizing the woman up, figuring that she likely had to be Lady Kirkpatrick. Maeve had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at the parson, knowing now that his clumsiness was all an act. Everything about the man, as far as Maeve was concerned, was fake. Why, if she heard that he had been mentioned in the papers, she likely would've simply called it fake news.

Either way, Lady Kirkpatrick certainly didn't seem to be the type that needed help. They had hardly been there a minute and Lady Kirkpatrick had already put both men in their places. While Maeve had assumed that she'd need to play a more docile and sweet part initially, she realized now that likely wasn't so. Making sure that she was standing straight, holding her shillelagh in her left hand, Maeve nodded curtly at Lady Kirkpatrick.

"Aye, me lady. I am 'ere ter assist yer since the men in this world seem unaware or unwillin' ter admit that yer are perfectly capable av 'andlin' yerself," Maeve said, holding her ground and making eye contact with Lady Kirkpatrick. She did appreciate Lady Kirkpatrick hitting the parson-priest with her cane. It was something that Maeve herself likely would've done, if she didn't have anything on the line.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Lady Absinthia
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Lady Absinthia ⚘ Blossoming ⚘

Member Seen 3 mos ago

March 22nd, 1823

Annan, Scotland



Lady Kirkpatrick directed her attention towards Maeve and looked the girl up and down with her eyes peering down her nose. "Mmmph, a bit of an attitude on this one," she said as her cane poked out a bit. Not to hit the girl but to tap the end of her own shoes. "Decent stature. Looks as if she can pass for low born or fine born, depending on the circumstance. Yes, will done fine. Come child, let the boys alone, we don't need them anymore," she said in a firm tone as she turned and looked back at the dress shop.

"Father, you are dismissed. Rory, tend to the carriage," she added. Calum looked over towards Maeve and sighed a bit but nodded, he knew there was no arguing with the Lady Kirkpatrick. Rory gave Calum a nod as he bid the women farewell for now and went on his way. Glancing back over his shoulder she found himself tripping over his own two feet again before finally straightening himself and heading towards the Chapel.

"Let's get your properly attired for my household, and go over a few things," she added before motioning with her cane for Maeve to get the door. "Now, what shall I be calling you?"


England



Case Name: A Funeral
Location: London
Time: Cover 1 Hour Of Game Time
Reason: People Have To Be Put To Rest
Group: Virginia & Company, Mosi's Family


Case Name: Your Princess is in another Castle
Location: Starting Point: Outside Of London
Time: Cover 2 Hours of Game Time
Reason: Every good story needs a rescue
Group: Fyror & Gerard

The Strand: Michael raised a brow at Thalken's suggestion. Abandoned buildings was a logical thought after all, and there were plenty of them in London, in fact more and more buildings were starting to clear out now with what happened at Almack's the night before. Families were going to continue the season but they would do it from their fortified homes in the country instead of the streets of London. This could be both a wonderful and horrible idea. It would mean families would be split. Many of them had men that had to conduct business in London while Parliament was in session, so those daughters and wives and sisters... left without the heads of household. Yet it also got a lot of women that didn't know how to protect themselves away from the carnage.

Michael left Thalken go, he still had to make sure that the good doctor tended to this corpse. As much as he would have probably enjoyed seeing the man get what was coming to him, having him to become Soulless in turn and perhaps causing even more death. Yeah, that was not happening in Michael's mind. He wanted to let Francis know what was happening but that would have to wait a bit longer. Thomas was back at the shop preparing the meat that had been promised for the girls now that things were cleaned up enough on the streets. If anything happened Michael was sure that Thomas would come and let him know quickly. Sarah Ann kept staring out of the window at the place where the body had stopped. As odd as it sounded, she actually worried that it might affect the business that night and cut into the madams profits.

Regent's Park: Sister Sophia took a step back to clear the way for Vlad and the other to try to do what they could at this time. She was a scholar and a representative of God. A tutor for Elizaveta in the ways of her country, she was not skilled in the arts of healing or trained in her countries ways. This had never been a problem before because of all of those that were trained in the circus. Now she wished she had but there was nothing that could be done about it now, besides pray. Which she did, in earnest as she bowed her head and started reciting in Russian the orthodox prayers of her church.

Adam on the other hand looked worried as he heard Sister Mary. Looking at the others trying to help the grand duchess. Stepping over towards Sister Mary and out of the way he held out her pole arm for her to take. Biting his bottom lip he wasn't sure what he could do to help, he was just a kid after all, just pulled from the streets after some Soulless tried to kill him. He was starting to remember more and a lot more clearly than he probably should have. Hearing Sister Sophia praying he figured it was all he could right then, so he in turn wanted to at least do that. Yet there was a problem, he hadn't ever really prayed before, he was a street urchin that had never been taken to church by anyone, until yesterday.

"Um, Sister Mary, how do I.. do that?" he asked quietly as he pointed over to Sister Sophia.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by mnkee
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mnkee *Retired Account

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Location: Westminster Hospital (London) --> St. Albans



Gerard didn't even have a chance to speak when Fryor already turned on his heel and went on his way. Indeed there was no time to spare, as he himself jogged towards the entrance and to the Wyndham's parked carriage ride. By the time he had met with the doorman who was watching over the Wyndham's ride, Fyror could be seen mounting his trusty steed Valor and promptly galloping off. A trail of dust followed the officer, and his red coat grew smaller and smaller before eventually disappearing from view altogether. "I will return shortly" Gerard said to the doorman, wasting no time to pause and talk and briskly unbuckled one of the horses. There was no use in bringing with him the carriage, it would only slow him down plus it's much easier to navigate through the roads without all that extra burden. And he wouldn't want the two women left in the hospital have their only ride home be stolen, Gerard isn't that vindictive.

Despite the narrow streets of London Gerard managed to slip through in such haste, that at one point he almost failed to notice a man that he almost ran over in the process. All he could discern was his angry curses but in his remorse, Gerard could only give him a mental apology. Meanwhile, Fyror similarly rode hard and fast. He made quick work of traveling through the sparsely occupied Green Park & St. James Park on horseback. He was heading for the inn that his family and fellow officers were staying at, which was conveniently located adjacent Hyde Park. He certainly hoped his father Colonel Theodore was still there, as he couldn't afford to lose any time, not with Millicent's life on the line.

Fyror slowed down his horse as the inn came into view. He quickly dismounted as soon as Valor came to a halt in front of the inn. He handed the reins over to the first servant who approached him. Under normal circumstances, he would be perfectly fine untacking and brushing down his own horse, but right now time was of the essence. He had to make every minute count. "I will need my horse tended to, but first I need one of the coaches from Colchester Garrison prepped and ready for several days of travel. Please do it as quickly as possible. Time is of the essence," he explained, before hastily entering the inn in search of his father.

It wasn't long until Gerard was back at Wyndham manor, stepping down from his ride and pacing directly towards the stables, also his part time home to get all the necessary things he would need for the journey. He would not leave without his sword and shield, some change of clothes and enough coin and food to last the journey. Next he headed towards the kitchen to notify Cook and the rest on his current mission.

"I'll bring our Millie home. I promise." He said in determination and confidence. Everyone hoped that she would and he wouldn't want to fail all of them, Gerard would never forgive himself otherwise. A sad whimper came from Wendy, kneeling down he gave her an affectionate hug. "I wont take long. Watch over them for me, yeah?" After getting all that he needed and saying his goodbyes, he left not time to spare on anything else and returned to Westminister where he would rendezvous with Fryor. Truthfully there is some slight unease in his part thinking that he will be traveling with him, but it would be wrong to judge him unfairly. Although that adds to the reason why he is nervous in the first place, but more so on the fact that he's travelling with an army man.

Fyror quickly located the stairwell from the lobby, and then he ascended the steps practically two at a time up to the third floor where his family was staying. He immediately knocked on his parents' door and waited rather impatiently for a response. The door was soon answered by his mother Lilith. "I need to speak with father," he blurted out before she could barely say a word. In his urgency, his manners were a bit lacking. He looked past his mother as she stepped to the side, and he let out a sigh of relief when his gaze landed on his father. "Oh thank goodness you're here. The life of Millicent Wyndham is in certain peril at the hands a Lord Rutherford. I must travel to Gretna Green immediately," he explained. "Will taking the main roads suffice, or is there a quicker route?"

He gestured for his father to follow him as he headed towards his own room to hastily gather his things. Fortunately, a large portion of his stuff was still packed up, seeing as his family had only been in town for a few days. "The Great North Road is as straight shot a route as they come. It would make the most sense for you to use that route," Colonel Theodore replied. "Are you sure about this? It is a long journey. Why don't I at least send some of the officers along with you. You shouldn't do this alone."

"I am doing this, father, and I am not doing this alone. The Wyndham family's stable hand Gerard is joining me. Adding more people will just slow us down. Besides, more than one person in uniform could potentially set Lord Rutherford off. No, the two of us can handle this," Fyror explained. He was so focused on rapidly gathering and packing his stuff that it took a few moments before he realized that the room had gone eerily quiet. He paused what he was doing to look up at his father. Colonel Theodore oddly seemed lost in thought all of a sudden. "Father?" Fyror interjected, his brows furrowing.

"Who is this man? What is his full name?" Theodore inquired.

"Gerard Connolly. Why do you wish to know?" Fyror stated, his brows furrowing further as he tried to interpret his father's expression. "Do you know the man?"

"I knew him, a long time ago. I wondered what had become of him, if he had fallen back onto old habits," Theodore stated with a sigh. "Just watch your back. I hope to goodness the man has changed for the better, but I won't stake my life, or yours for that matter, on it."

Fyror nodded his head slowly in understanding. He finished packing his last few things before shouldering it and facing his father once more. "I'll be careful. I promise," he stated. His father nodded his head, and without another word they made to leave the room. Fyror's eyes landed on his musket just as they were about to step out of the room. He hesitated for a moment, before ultimately deciding to grab it. He then left the room, said his goodbyes, and then located his now fully stocked coach. Soon thereafter he was leaving the inn behind and headed back to Westminster Hospital to meet up again with Gerard.

Gerard arrived back at the hospital, now fully prepared for the spur-of-the-moment journey to save Millicent. Gerard tied the the horse back to it's carriage, giving it a few soft pats on it's smooth dark neck. Once he meets up with Fryor they should be off, and he hopes to God that they would not arrive late to save her.

Since yesterday everything has been too much to make process of. Since that woman at the park, and specially Millie coming home from the night at Almacks, and now traveling almost half of Britain to save her from marrying an entitled and terrible man. But that's not the only thing that worries him, with the news of the attacks that evening, and the possibility of the soulless running amok in the streets could add some danger to their current objective. With that in mind he would make sure to still tread carefully, even with a companion at his side there's no guarantee of assurance.

Shortly thereafter, the garrison's coach came to a stop in front of Westminster Hospital. Fyror opened up the coach door, and his gaze sought out the man that would be accompanying him. "Hop in, Mr. Connolly. We have little time to waste," he called out when his eyes landed on Gerard. Once the man had climbed aboard the coach, Fyror closed the door behind him and then they were off.

"We are taking the Great North Road straight to Gretna Green. It is the quickest and most straight shot route," he explained before the room fell silent. He then left Gerard to his thoughts and himself to his own. He looked out the window, watching as the surroundings changed as the headed for Westminster Bridge, the sole entrance into London. Colonel Theodore's words of warning still rang clear in his head. He wondered what kind of man Gerard had once been and more importantly the kind of man he was today.

Gerard was mostly quiet all throughout the travel. He hasn't always been the first to engage in small talk, specially now that he's feeling quite uneasy and guarded. But mainly, his mind just contemplates on the the recent events as they passed over the Westminister bridge, circling around the walls of London. He wished the only time he would see it is when they're all bound home to the countryside, fully setting aside any businesses they have here but instead he is traveling with man, not just any man in uniform and who he barely knew. Internally, it's poking him how he shared a relationship with Millie, or most importantly of what kind. But so far since they met, Fryor seemed to leave an amiable impression to Gerard, something he wasnt entirely expecting. For how long they will be traveling together and sharing a similar objective, there could be time to learn more about the person he is working with, if only to make him rest easy.
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Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Sputnik
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Sputnik Lost in Space

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Frances Warwick




Location: The Glimmeric;



At the butcher shop, Big Bernie stands towering next to the stall waiting for the boy preparing the cuts for the madame, his gentle eyes resting at Thomas expressionlessly. Most of the time nobody really knows what goes on inside his head, and is just easier for others to regard him as simpleminded. Although there is some bliss in seeing things so simple and bare, with all that complications of politics and the suffering it brings. Bernie always sees things that way, what does he care about the statuses of people who come in and out of the brothel, if this person owns half of Scotland or the whole of Britain or if he would lie dead on the street the very next day. Though he knows much to bury them properly before it starts rotting, just like any dead animal. Bernie only does best in what he is told to do. And commonly, if that same lord were to put harm on the people he work for, it's his job to lug them out the building. Told to or otherwise, nobody hurts the little people if he was on watch.

Back at the brothel, Ruby still couldnt shake the nervous feeling at the madame's possible conjecture. "Right" she broke the short silence between them "Say, if some savage demon's prancin' around in front of our streets this very moment, and we're just not realizing it. You don't suppose it's wise to close our doors for this evening?"

Frances took some thought into it, her fingers rubbing the skin of her elbow. From a business perspective she would want to take the risk, but at the same time it was not in her best interest to have these girls be the bait for whoever's doing this. Money was important, but not as much as these girls safety. But if they're only dealing with one person as opposed to a group of attackers, still, she couldn't help but be torn with the decision. This has to be fixed in some way, and as soon as possible. Waiting around would do them little.

The madame took one more look at the Sarah Anne from the other room, "I agree." and turned back to Ruby "But then again when it comes to the business, disregarding the problem would be very much against my nature. So I suppose we should have this over with before it poses further inconvenience to us." she spoke nonchalantly, pacing towards her chambers as Ruby tries to catch up behind her. She somewhat got an idea of where the madame is going with, and this made her raise a brow.

"You talkin about using some of that Caribbean magic on the lord, aint ya?" Not a lot of people know of Frances skills, so much as her past except for Ruby, who was nosy enough to pry her about it. Frances wouldn't even think that she would make use of it again until now. Definitely it would have been a while.

"Probably. If it keeps from another body from being afflicted, or spreading." Frances went over to her table, under the locked drawers are a bunch of materials and tools specifically used for the soulless, opening a case which consisted of unidentified herbs, tiny bottles of ashes and ground bones. Ruby watched as the madame expertly distincts them from one and the other. "And hopefully it would get us to the bottom of this before things take a bad turn."




Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Sigil
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Sigil Literary Hatchetman

Member Seen 21 hrs ago





"The tempest comes out from its chamber, the cold from the driving winds."

Location: Russian Imperial Circus - Tent City (Regent's Park)




A kind smile greeted Adam when he returned Mary's polearm. He was very thoughtful, and proving to be highly intuitive. She accepted her Audist weapon politely but otherwise stayed back, allowing the people of the Circus to take care of their own. Mary's own abilities (one in particular), might prove beneficial if more mundane efforts were unsuccessful. She had attempted before with little success. It was understandable, Elizaveta was still being chilled to the bone when Mary invoked the skill of Timyne, a thing which was trying at the best of times and requiring an act of divinity at the worst. Unaware of anything else that she could do at that time, she simply stood ready to defend, heal, or offer service to the Grand Duchess.

Then Adam did said something strange. With hesitation, he called Mary's attention to Sister Sophia, who was giving divine supplication in her native tongue. The prayers, or variations of them from denomination to denomination, always had intonations of power to Mary. Even though no ethereal gift brought about by Training flowed from her through Sophia's words and she did not understand Russian, it rose and fell with potency; the words of the true and faithful.

In hushed voice so as not to interrupt neither the attention paid to Elizaveta nor Sister Sophia's words, Mary responded to her little ward, "It is a lovely language, is it not? I am afraid Russian is not a language I know... Oh? You mean pray? Yes, I can certainly teach you this." Mary took a knee next to Adam and continued, "This is one I sometimes use as a focus when the Lord works a Healing through me... but first, you need to open your mind and heart to God, with trust and humility. Take a breath if you need to; for many it helps to bow your head and place your hands together in front of you." She demonstrated briefly to the boy a basic supplicant's pose.

"Excellent. Now, place your thoughts on Elizaveta and concentrate on love and warmth. Giving. Hope. Open your heart to the Lord and speak. Match my words. Ready?" Mary began, speaking quietly but clearly:

"May you be wrapped up in God's love,
Found deep in His everlasting wings,
Carried and kept, safe and cherished.


Mary paused the prayer purely for instructional purposes, speaking quickly and quietly. "Speak your intent with feeling; put yourself into it, Adam."

"May the healing power of Christ
Breathe across your being now. Amen.






Passive Skills:
  • Fal'shbort - You are tougher, stronger, more Russian!
  • Tretiy Glaz - An ability that gives a person a sixth sense into the future. Unpredictable and random.


Location: Russian Imperial Circus - Tent City (Regent's Park)




Vladimir had hope to see immediate change in Veta's condition, with the administrations of two Sisters, and one Trained at that. He had expected more from himself, possibly for the same reason. Perhaps it was too much to ask that, after such an attack that she had to endure she spring awake and wide-eyed, ready to meet the day with smiles and a healthy appetite. His own condition wasn't great, and he had less to deal with. Far less. The others in the tent seemed to have adopted a more "wait and see" tactic. It made sense. Recovering from exposure ordinarily took a bit of time. Perhaps that was exactly what was needed. He just didn't want to to nothing in the meantime.

The earthenware vessels of water were going to require a few minutes on the stove to heat up appropriately. Vlad could tend to his own needs in that time. He would help no one as a sick and immobile Great Bazhooli, oh no. That simply would not do at all. With teeth that began to chatter, Vladimir weakly (for him) addressed the persons still in the tent.

"You vill excuse; I am needing to be varm and dry, too. Veta is good, vill return in minutes. Please excuse." He did not address anyone in particular, merely extending his words to whomever would hear before pushing himself off of the center pole of the Grand Duchess's tent and staggering out into the daylight. While an impressive village of canvas and wood, it was not exactly a major metropolitan area. Locating his own lodging was a very simple affair of a few meters. He came close to stopping while en route thanks to a warm and drawing cook-fire, but he knew he had to continue. Just a small investment of time otherwise, and he could tend to his Elizaveta from a stronger position. That was motivation enough.

Inside of his tent, Vladimir peeled his still-wet clothing from his person and unceremoniously flopped them down onto the ground. There was sufficient cover separating his feet and the actual grass and earth of Regent's Park, and it was a good thing too. He had no desire to have even the appearance of being exposed to the elements. Even in London. Even in the summer. He had to make this fast - he had more important people to tend to than himself. Well, one more important person than himself. The present incarnation of The Great Bazhooli saw hurriedly pulled himself into simple undergarments and black, loose-fitting pants, over which he donned fashionable and functional high black boots. He buckled on a familiar belt and, upon checking the buckle for ease of draw, revealed it to actually be a brace of push-daggers. Following this he buttoned on a black shirt with close pinstriping, making it an interesting debate as to whether is was indeed black shirt or a grey one from a distance. The leather cuffs on his wrists were changed out for larger, more elaborate ones, lightly adorned with metal studding and wax thread stitches. He threw on one of his near trademarkable high-collared red waistcoats and slipped a filigreed red bandana over his head, followed by his leather banded top hat. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, Vladimir resupplied himself with many, many sharp things. From his boots to his lapels, including all of the ordinary spots a regular guy would keep a knife, Vlad armed up.

Briefly, he considered readying his long gun owing to the situation, but thought better of it. He had more important things to attend. Likewise, the more formal attention to his face and hair would have to wait. Tossing his wet clothes into a temporary hamper, Vladimir confidently paced his way back to Elizaveta's tent. The water should be getting up in temperature. In a couple more minutes, he could begin ministering to her needs for warmth, giant tiger and supplicating nuns aside. In preparation, he placed a few more pieces of wood into Veta's tent stove, and checked his bottles. Not just yet. But soon.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by rivaan
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rivaan

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Constantin Kolev


Location: The Tent City.




Seeing as he didn't seem to be able to provide any additional help in the current situation, Constantin quickly took a step back almost right away after Vlad excuse himself.

“Please excuse me too...” He said with some reluctance as he slightly bowed and moved away from the tent. The firedancer himself needed to get a change of clothes before he falls victim to some illness. It wasn't much of a stretch even with his boosted constitution. Freezing water had a way of sap everything away from you and it was a time to deal with it. Quickly he hurried over to his family's tent where his stuff was.

It didn't take him much time as he had learned to navigate about the tent city and as soon as he found himself at that one tent, he took off his wet clothing, replacing it with his spares. His hair was still wet, but he wrapped a piece of cloth to wrince it off. He could dry it properly at one of the many fires or stoves around the tent city.

“I hate this day...” He grumbled. It was only morning and everything was getting depressing, damaging and tiring.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by mnkee
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mnkee *Retired Account

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Location: The Strand (Nuetermyre's --> The Glimmeric)




- "Battle for the Hill of the Ash" by Trevor Morris of the Vikings Soundtrack




Thalken gladly left behind the rubbish that was Nuetermyre's and retraced his steps back to where the body had been found. Unlike Michael, he was not in any rush to tend to the body, as he knew well enough that there was a 72 hour timeframe before the body would rise again as a Soulless, if it even did at all. Ultimately, it all depended upon whether the attacking Ryne had drank the man dry or had broken off the feeding soon enough to pass on the illness. Only time would tell. Well, in the meantime, he would continue to investigate these strange killings.

He stopped at the junction of the alleyway where the body had rested. His dark eyed gaze took in the area. It would seem that remnants of its mere existence had been erased and with it any clues as to what had killed the lord. He let out an annoyed sigh. Piecing together this puzzle was proving harder than he had anticipated, but that did not mean he was going to stop now. No, he was determined to see this through.

He turned away from the alleyway. There was nothing of substance to be had there anymore. People's quickness to clean up the scene of the crime had seen to that. His gaze landed on the Glimmeric located just across the street. His father often used the brothel as a meeting place for his nefarious dealings. His head tilted slightly to the side as he noticed a young woman in the window staring out in his direction, the direction where the body had been found.

Thalken suddenly recalled hearing that one of Frances Warwick's girls had found the body. Perhaps it was even the young woman in the window. It occurred to him that she may have seen something of note before coming across the body. He decided then and there that he must speak with the woman. He strode across the street towards the Glimmeric with a look of stubborn determination on his face.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Morose
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Morose ✨Krakoan Princess✨

Member Seen 3 days ago





Location: Annan


At first, Maeve was a bit concerned that she had misjudged Lady Kirkpatrick and that she should have gone for a softer, milder approach. But after a minute or so, it seemed that she had guessed correctly. She didn't read any signs of irritation or malice in Lady Kirkpatrick's face. The woman appeared to have accepted her, something incredibly necessary for the Cummings plans and for her payment. It was all so that Roisin could have the best education possible in the end. She didn't care much about Clan This and Clan That at the end of the day. All that mattered was that she got paid.

Calum's sigh perplexed her, to say the least. For a liar and someone who employed disguise regularly, it didn't seem to suit him. Of course, it was likely all a bit of the charade he was playing as Father Blair, Maeve decided. When Calum walked away, she didn't turn to look back at him. He was nothing more than a face, a mask. Who knew who the real parson-priest was anyways? Maeve doubted that anyone did, perhaps not even Calum himself.

"Name's Neasa O'Connor, m'lady," Maeve said, introducing herself--or rather, her alias.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by rivaan
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rivaan

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Location: Mournweald Estate, London




Virginia blinked for a moment, mulling over Ernest's words. Mosi had left a will with clear instructions, from what she had surmised. Why was that not enough for her surviving family? What more could they ask for in determining what the deceased would truly want to happen to their remains? "Mosi left a will. There is no clearer indication of what she would wish for her burial than what she has written herself," Virginia chided.

"That is true." Ernest replie with a flat voice, trying to still come in terms with what had transpired." The way she lived... left our family with some cracks on our so called 'honor&pride'. They are trying to start laying the fundations to 'mend' that right away with her death as founding stone." He said in rather displeased voice." Still now that you are here, my father would have no other choice, but to listen. Your name's on the will and he will respect her decision, he doesn't have other option."

Virginia chuckled softly at Ernest's words. From what she understood, Mosi's family rejected her lifestyle from the very beginning. Why would her death change that? Why would Mosi's will force her family to honor her desires? To say the very least, Virginia was doubtful that Mosi's father would follow through with the burial Mosi desired. Ernest struck her as naive. "I hope that you are right as to your father's inclinations," Virginia commented. She expected more than just a struggle to get a proper burial for Mosi.

"Our father's favorite child is... was..." Ernest started to say as he was leading Virginia towards his father's study." Jeanette." He stated with a grim smile. One could hear Bridgitte who was always on good terms with Mosi, weeping from one of the side rooms." He's unable to decide right now mostly because he half cannot accept her passing. You know, he was so happy last night when he saw her put on that dress he got for her." He explained as they reached a closed sturdy door. Ernest quickly knocked on the door." Father, Miss Crypt is here. The one in Jeanette's will."

"Just enter..." A tired voice came from inside. Ernest opened the door, only to see his father William sitting on his chair, his looks somewhat disheveled, as he stared at a small handkerchief decorated with rather childish clumsly made embrodery.

For a favorite child, the Cranes certainly had an odd way of showing it. Virginia's father loved--no, loves--her and he never would have forced her to live a dishonest life. He was the man who first taught her to throw a hatchet. He never would have purchased something for her to enjoy that she detested, such as Jeanette's father had done with the dress. Alfred appeared to be a bit skeptical as well, though he was keeping a firm grip on James' shoulder to keep the young boy from running amuck in the manor.

"Mr. Crane," Virginia said as she came into the room, noting Ernest's lack of proper address for her but not finding it an appropriate moment to correct him. Had he been one of the Crypt family's business partners, she likely would have had her tongue for such disrespect. It was one of the unfortunate consequences of her sex--a good portion of the men she dealt with did not respect her as they did her father. They did not recognize her as the head of the Crypt household, even if only acting.

"Ahh..." William made a sound of realization as he saw Virginia. He quickly stood up from his seat to welcome them inside the study." Lady Crypt, please enter." He invited before turning to Virginia's companions. "Lord Wenwynith, sir, I'm sorry for my delayed invitation. Please do enter." He turned towards James and Alfred.

"I assume my son has informed you of my daugther's will, Lady Crypt?" William asked, still holding onto the old handkerchief." May I ask, what would be your decision on the matter of the funeral?" He asked.

James couldn't help but perk up with interest as Mr. Crane used his courtesy title. He spent much of his time at the manor among family, causing him to be caused either diminutives by Virginia or the simple Master James by a majority of the household staff. Lord Wenwynith was what etiquette dictated he would be called, until his father was ruled dead. Then he would be known as Lord Dywell. His sister, of course, would be Lady Crypt regardless. She could not inherit the earldom.

"A virtue I am, if let in. Orpheus had a need of me. I can be tried yet I cannot be executed. What am I?" Virginia recited, pausing for a moment as she waited for a response. "Patience. Now, I must peruse her will if I am to make an informed decision, though I must confess I do not understand why you need an earl's daughter to interpret the written word. A will is just that--a will. It is Mosi's declaration of intent as to what should be done with her earthly remains and in order to honor her, rather than a fiction, it must be followed to the letter."

Mosi's father had a complicated expression for a moment before nodding and pulling a folded piece of paper from his desk, handing it over to Virginia." It is here, Lady Crypt..." He said quietly. It was a rather short thing all things considered. After all Mosi wasn't about to let overwhelming boring details to get in her way. All she needed was quick, short and direct will and that's what it was written.

In but a frew short sentences all things were explained. Should she died, Mosi left the following things: Her main handaxes, the collection of feathers and her 'pipe of peace' to Virginia. Also she was to be burned in all cases. With Virginia being the sole person with rights on handling her funeral rites as she see fit. There was just a single additional rule in her will speaking about how 'I do not wish my death to be turned into a public spectacle for hollow pride.' Which more or less stated that she didn't wish for any public funeral of any kind.

"I..." William started with heavy voice, but couldn't bring himself to continue.

Virginia's eyes scanned over the will twice, before she set it aside. It seemed perfectly clear to her, though she did note once more that she should have been called over far earlier in the day. The funeral was supposed to be this evening and she was intended to arrange it? In order to do something properly, it took more than a mere hours worth of work. No, it would be longer to devise something that would do justice to Mosi.

"The will is quite clear, Mr. Crane," Virginia said. "Your daughter wishes to be cremated. The affair is to be private. After it has finished, we will place the ashes into two urns: one that you may keep here and another that will be placed on a ship to America, where the majority of her ashes shall be spread."

"Yes..." William finally said with a heavy voice, but his expression had cleared somewhat as if he had reached a conclusion." Lady Crypt if you excuse me, I need to stop this sharade." Mosi's father finally stated as he headed towards the exit of his study." Clarice, you're to stop the funeral preparations you've been setting right now!" His voice rang throughout the corridor." We're following her will and if the other people are to talk about it, then so be it."

"Lady Crypt, would you like to see her?" Ernest asked." We've taken her to her room. Frankly I managed to convince the servant in charge of dressing her to put on her buckrobe she brought with her. I thought it would be more fitting."
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Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by Lady Absinthia
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Lady Absinthia ⚘ Blossoming ⚘

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March 22nd, 1823

Annan, Scotland



Lady Kirkpatrick gave the girl that called herself Neasa a terse nod and a humph as the door opened from the inside of the dress maker and was held open for the lady. Stepping inside the place was rather luxurious and the attendants were more than ready to cater to every last whim the Lady Kirkpatrick put forth before them. "Come now, don't leave me waiting. At my age, I just haven't got the time," Lady Kirkpatrick said as she took one of the attendants hands and was lead over to the a plush silk covered chair. Resting herself down slowly she placed her cane right next to her and kept her hand on the carved knob at the top, the woman looked as if she was ready to strike at any moment and towards anyone. It could be easily seen in the attendants eyes that this made them nervous but to have such a woman with means in their shop, it meant a pay day and that was something everyone could use in these times.

.... And now we are going to cover time time. Maeve needs a wardrobe and that is going to take time for measurements, colors to be chosen, fabrics to be looked over, these type of fittings can takes hours on hours and this one will. That can also mean a lot of dead time. So we are going to be covering out time until night fall here in Annan. 14 days to cover the fitting and be done with it. Now Maeve won't be walking out of there with really anything to wear since most clothing during this time is hand done after a fitting, especially for the wealthy. They will be delivered later on once we are further along in the RP. You are free to control the attendants at this point - PM me for Miss Sally reactions, quips, or caneings lol.



England



Things are about to jump... Time wise that is. Mark this down - 14 days. Why 14? So we can really move things along. This is going to bring us to nightfall throughout England. You are going to be able to "move freely" as long as you don't come into contact with any other PC's than the ones you are currently near. So Constantin, Vlad, Mary are together; Virginia and the Mosi Family; Thalken & Francis; Gerard and Fyror. (And if people are feeling frisky, Thalkens family can step into the fray - just pm the Rper controlling the Pc's you are wanting to be in contact with.)

Now you can break these down as much as you want, you don't have to post 1 super long post at the end of 14 days, you can post in between to make things easier for people to keep up with. (Which would honestly be preferable.) Yet, some might need more than 7 days to get through a half way point. And I know some of you are planning a few things so this will enable you to do so.

Down at the strand - Thalken and Francis are in the Glimmeric now, basically wondering a big WTF Mate to why the bodies, why that man. During your 14 day stretch, cover as much as you can until nightfall. PM me as you need information or as you use your skills for rolls to see what pops up. Michael has finished up with the Doctor and is back at his shop. Meat is prepared and ready to be picked up. Sarah Ann is still in her room currently looking at the spot where the man came to a stop at her feet.

At Regent Park - You are still trying to save Elizaveta. Sister Sophia seems to be in a trance as she prays. Adam is acting.. oddly as he prays. Stepping closer and closer to Veta as he does and yet Myska isn't acting like he wants the boy to back off, even as the boy crawls right onto the bed. O.o Myska is normally one to growl people back unless he really knows them. This current situation is unheard of. Pm me for interaction with Adam, rolls on skills, ideas you might have outside of the box. You will be covering time until Mary has to leave to meet with the Graveolase unless word is sent quickly to tell them to meet her at the Circus. Everyone does love a clown.

On the Road - We are going to keep rolling once you post to get you as far as we can until nightfall. So far the rolls have been in your favor and you haven't had any hiccups. Once you post, you will be stopping at a Stage Coach Post and changing out horses quickly before continuing on north. There will be a coach there that is broken down and getting repaired that you both will see as the horses are changed. Gerard will recognize it as the one that took Miss Milli away from the house the night before. Seems you are on the right track. Might be a good time to quickly question the people there at the small post if they know or heard anything.

At the Funeral - I know Virginia needs to finish this up - how long that takes will be up to you. Bodies burning though.. Since there isn't really a cremation chamber as of yet that I can find - old fashion burning will probably have to do. It will take a good 8 hours, if not more (will depend on the rolls), to cremate the body and it won't reduce the body as much as it will in this day and age. Not sure if you want to have Virginia wait while the body is being burned or if she will leave after it starts and return once it is finished. (She would have plenty of time to do things inbetween) - Burn baby burn.

If you have questions - hit me up - here to help. I am wanting to give you all a bit of free time for this, why the two weeks. You all have been plotting, planning, scheming. Show me what you got, start the ball rolling. Halloween is coming, time to really step up our game and see just how dark we can get. Trick or Treat my lovelies.
Hidden 7 yrs ago Post by mnkee
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mnkee *Retired Account

Member Seen 4 yrs ago









Location: Walls of London --> St. Albans



Fyror stared out the carriage window, watching as their surroundings progressively changed as they left the inner city of London behind. His thoughts deviated from his father's words of warning to the more important matter at hand. His already harsh features hardened as he thought about the grim situation that Millicent had found herself in. He was washed in tension and a fieriness came to his eyes at the mere thought of Lord Rutherford defiling her. He swore that he would not let that wretched man get away with this. Justice would be served, but the question was that would it be before or after Millicent lost her life.

Gerard's mind still wandered with worry although this time he was looking calmer than before. It just gets numbing at some point. In his mind he traced the roads, towns they will pass before they reach Nottingham, and after that. He kept recalling the events since yesterday, hoping that there could be any information, anything he might have missed at all that could prove helpful to their current mission. Would not really matter if it gave away anything useful, at least it gave him some bit of hope. And the more he did, his worry was slowly being replaced by vengeance. A woman like Millie doesn't deserve this kind of wickedness.

Fryor pulled his attention back to the present. His gaze left the window, and he glanced over at Gerard before turning to rummage through his stuff. The irishman caught his glance, he too could see in his eyes the intensity. Fryor pulled out a map and deftly unfolded it. His eyes looked it over, and then he traced the path of the Great North Road with his finger. He shook his head. "Dammit. This route is going to send us too far east, and it will completely bypass Nottingham. Not that we would have any luck cutting them off at his home there. They're too far ahead of us. There has to be a quicker route," he exclaimed in frustration.

The other man leaned just a little bit across the other seat, and took a look at the map. It was a little longer to process what he was seeing, carefully reading the words as best he can. His eyes first caught the words London, Nottingham where they were suppose to be headed after St. Albans a fair league towards Gretna green. Gerard agreed with him, at this point where they may already be too far ahead of them the Great North Road may not be the best route to take.

"We could go through heres." eyeing the route from the eastern side, he pointed the road that was bound for Manchester with some bit of uncertainty. "Right after St Alban's. We could go pass Nottingham, and go forward towards M-." slightly tilting his head, he peered for some short seconds at the tiny words written on the map " Manchester. I reckon we'll be quicker this way." he said. Going back to his position he looked over attentively to Fryor, "What do you think sir?"

Fyror's gaze followed to the area Gerard pointed out on the map. It was a Stage Coach Route that broke off of the Great North Road and headed straight for Manchester, completely bypassing Nottingham. After comparing the two routes, he came to the conclusion that it should very well buy them some time. "That should work splendidly, Mr. Connolly. It will certainly buy us some precious time. I will redirect our coach driver when we stop in St. Alban's to change horses," he replied. He was pleased that things were looking up slightly.

The rest of the journey was exchanged with little words, and fortunately the short travel toward's St. Alban's with no problem. As they neared the town Gerard still kept his eyes on the window, observing the scenery surrounding the small city. Soon enough their carriage came to stop at a Stage Coach Post in St. Alban's.
Hidden 6 yrs ago Post by rivaan
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rivaan

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Constantin Kolev


Location: The Tent City.




With some quiet grumbling Constantin had finished mostly drying his hair by one of the many fires before beginning what he planned to do now. He was going to do a rather extensive patrol of the entire tent city and the surroundings as much as he can. There were many people with Veta right now, many to help her, he wasn't an expert so he for once was going to let his hopes and trust in the hands of someone else. Some of whom he barely knew. It was a not a greatest feeling, but he couldn't help it. With a frown he shook his head as he started walking across the tent city.

His nerves were strained as he explored the familiar temporary settlement create in the park. Tents all across, the muddy ground right now. He cursed as he walked to one end of the city of tents, observing the ground all across. 'Nothing can be seen...' He growled in his mind. It made him feel even more nervous.

After a good while, maybe a few hours he had explored a lot of the tent city now as he finally arrived at the area closest to the lake, the place which had seen greatest amount of traffic due the morning they had and all it's nightmarish hectic glory. He crouched by one of the paths, his expression still as grim as it was at the morning. He ran a few fingers across the muddled footprints before finally standing up and looking around. The tents, the people, the path and the chatter. All appeared normal and that just made him feel not quite right. For some reason he did not believe it. With a fast pace and sure steps he walked towards the lake now.

'Vhat the hell vas that?' He thought, remembering the abomination they had witnessed earlier.' A demon?' He asked himself, his eyes locked on the lake that was a frozen shell earlier.' Devil?' He once more thought, stopping by the lake and looking left and right. The temperature in the air appeared normal now and not even a spec of ice could be seen in the water, nor any mists around the area.

'A new soulless?' The firewalker asked himself, remembering every feature he could of the thing. It wasn't like anything he had ever seen... or heard of for that matter. It had the power of a known one, but that aside it was different.' Maybe they are evolving... predators adapt to hunt the prey and we've adapted to combat them in the past thus something new appeared?' He pondered the possibility as he crouched by the lake, touching the water.

“Even the lake's temperature has returned to normal... Considering it was frozen earlier I expected it would be colder, but...” He mumbled to no one, just speaking his thoughts aloud.” This is weird by itself too.” He added with a sigh standing up and looking around the now calm lake area, narrowing his eyes as he started walking back towards the tent city.

Time sure had passed so rapidly today. The danger, the possibility of losing a close friend and the feeling of powerlessness as he scoured the tent city for any clues or possible dangers, but not finding anything. It could also be considered a good thing if the city was indeed safe though. He just felt so powerless that he couldn't do anything to that beast.

Sunset wasn't far away now he noted as he entered the boundries of the tents again, heading back towards the tent he shared with his parents in this case the firewalkers/dancers tent. There were many different skills and performances out there. Firewalking an dancing was something that passed on the flashier side of things with the field of embers upon which he and his parents would dance and walk across barefeet. The burning of the fire and the spreading of the embers was an art on itself. It followed traditions older than his folk remembered.

Entering the tent he had taken to sitting by the fireplace for a moment, as expected it was burning, it was always burning really. He relaxed in the chair, letting the warmth radiating from the fireplace to envelop him. He enjoyed the sensation an the raging fires. There was something funamentally claming about it. Calming and purifying! Upon the field of embers, he felt his mind probably most clear, cutting all outside distractions away, allowing the purifying flames to clean his thoughts. Finally he took off his shoes as his parents and him use a small area they had covered with sand to spread embers on top without the danger of anything catching fire on. It was nowhere near the complete size they did for the official performance though. Those were big, this one was barely 2 or 3 steps wide, enough to step on it.

Practicing the ritualistic dance around the embers, Constantin finally stepped on them. This was a secret craft. Embers could indeed be stepped on if you knew what you did and you were careful and calm. That wasn't the craft he was taught though. Real Anastenaria required also a lot of dancing and stronger steps on top of the embers, kicking a little of the embers, to keep the fire burning and those watching in awe. He knew when he was just little baby, his mother often used to walk across the fields of embers with him in her hands.

While he and his family were taking turns stepping, kicking and standing on the embers, all the while having a bucket of water nearby just in case, the last vestige of the day were melting away, the light in the tent turning ever so dimmer until finally they had to light up the a few candles and start to splash water across the embers they were using." I so vish I could have set that thing ablaze..." Constantin finally said, watching the last of the embers turn into a cold black ashes.
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