[hr][hr][center][img]https://s23.postimg.org/h6shths5n/virginia.png[/img]
[img]https://s33.postimg.org/bbhqu462n/funeral.gif[/img][hr][color=9999ff][b]Location[/b][/color]: the Mournweald Estate [/center][hr][hr]	Had Virginia heard Beowulf's words, she showed no recognition of it. There were no expressions of fear or panic, nor happiness and certainly not event disgust. It was a perfected mask of indifference. She measured her each and every expression with careful calculation as she mulled over the options presented to her. She had very little choice but to accept Beowulf's offer, otherwise her brother would be in greater danger than was needed. She began to envision a future for her and her brother, one in which they left England behind. They could travel to the colonies in secrecy, perhaps even to Upper Canada. It would be a risky endeavor, yet Virginia needed to be able to see a rough path ahead of her. It was entirely likely that such an escape attempt would be unsuccessful. It may be necessary to fake the deaths of both her and her brother, but if it allowed James to have the life he deserved, then so be it. It would be worth any price, any misery, any judgment that would come to pass. 

	[color=9999ff]"No, there will be no need--"[/color] Virginia began, only to feel a scorching heat on her person. She made the mistake of looking towards the funeral pyre, staring directly into the blinding light for a precious few seconds. As she averted her gaze and increased the distance between her and the pyre, until it was a little over sixty feet. Even then, it took her willpower not to fall back even further. James was giddy with excitement, attempting to get within fifty feet of the pyre, only for Alfred to pick the lad up and carry him at least one hundred feet out of range. 

	[color=9999ff]"How peculiar,"[/color] Virginia murmured, raising a hand in an attempt to shield her eyes and to then steal another glance at the pyre. While she was familiar with the scientific meaning of a body that burned like starlight, Virginia's mind went to the tales and myths her mother had told her as a child. Those unmarked by the darkness burned like this. While many looked upon it as a marvel, in the Crypt family it was more or less a disappointment. The myth was more of a warning for the young children, in order to entice them to get their hands dirty and live their lives. 
	
	To Virginia, then, it was a sign that Mosi had been taken too soon. She may have died a valiant death and gone onto the next adventure, but she had hardly even began her journey on the mortal plane before her demise. [hr][hr][center][img]https://s8.postimg.org/nvq4ksl7p/maeve.png[/img]
[img]https://68.media.tumblr.com/0faf84b3d4f21ea24389bc53f8e6ed38/tumblr_of7eg3Hbnv1snu0flo1_500.gif[/img][hr][color=ff6600][b]Location[/b][/color]: Dressmakers', Annan[/center][hr][hr]	Maeve nodded, a bit relieved to hear that she wouldn't be prodded with needles again. It wasn't the most pleasant experience of her life. Somehow, the numerous little pricks hurt more than the (often accidental) blows had during her training. She was currently resisting the urge to rub at her arms, but felt that it was best not to do so. Impressing Lady Kirkpatrick seemed to be a full time job, and the attendants at the shop appeared to be feeling similar about the matter, moving into a frenzy of activity once more to finish each and every command of Lady Kirkpatrick's. 

	The prospect of eating in a tavern wasn't too troubling to Maeve-- the majority of the food she consumed on a daily basis was tavern food. Such was the life of a bartender, her "official" occupation beyond spy and gang member. Of course, she imagined that peers were used to finer choices of food than what Lady Kirkpatrick had deemed "vile." Maeve went at a bit of a dash and opened the door for Lady Kirkpatrick, just as the frazzled attendant came over to her, with the coat and other items for the moment at the ready. The rest were being packaged and would take another moment. 

	Throughout the entire process, Maeve had almost forgotten how cross she was with Calum. As she held the door for Lady Kirkpatrick, she couldn't help but wonder if the preacher would be traveling with them from this point on or if his duty was finished.