[center][img]http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ccff888e-d2a3-4f6d-a340-d0c5f453075c.png[/img][h1][b][color=2956b2]March 23rd, 1823[/color][/b][/h1] [img]http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ccff888e-d2a3-4f6d-a340-d0c5f453075c.png[/img][/center] Over at the place of mourning the two riders had arrived. Thanks to help of a well paid off periodical vendor they were able to get a read of the names in the obituaries. A Miss Jeanette ‘Mosi’ Mournweald Crane's name had been among the departed, mentioning that the woman had passed in the attack at Almack's and paired with Elizaveta had told a few in the circus the night before had given them their destination. Granted she hadn't told the riders herself but she had told a few. News spread like wildfire in the Circus. If you tripped and fell while walking across the tent city, news of your fall reached the other side before you could finish dusting yourself off. It was just how it was. "Ve vill not leave. Ve have message. Lady Virginia Crypt is to be handed this by us," one of the rider told the butler at the door who was, understandably, refusing to grant them entrance. "No, I vill not entrust it to you. Ve have job, ve hand it to her. It comes by order of Sister..." another started before turning to the other. "как ее зовут?" "Sister Mary Hale and the Great Bazhooli! Master Vladimir Alexandrov, heir to Baron Alexandrov!" the first exclaimed proudly as he took a step forward. It didn't seem to be getting them anywhere. "Good man, do vish to deny entrance? To those who serve at the hand of Grand Duchess Elizaveta Romanova?" the second said quickly but the first was getting impatient. "Lady Crypt!!" he bellowed through the open door. One thing about the circus folk, they knew how to project their voices. [center][img]http://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/ccff888e-d2a3-4f6d-a340-d0c5f453075c.png[/img] [h1][b][i][color=a187be]Elizaveta Romanova[/color][/i][/b][/h1] [img]http://68.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m4ytxwGdt01qhube3o3_250.gif[/img][hr][b][color=a187be]Location:[/color][/b] Russian Imperial Tent City: Her Tent[hr][/center] A sheepish grin came to Adams face, he was no con-artist but he had tried at least. Elizaveta looked over to the young man, she wondered to herself just why he had been pulled into all of this. More than that, she wondered just what horrors he had to have endured in his life to be able to cope so readily the way he was. Yet she knew he was an orphan, they tended to either survive or die. They found ways to live and to deal with situations the average person never dreamt of, even in this day and age. It saddened her heart to think that he had gone through anything but a young life of laughter and frivolity but it was a common tale not to. She lived in a circus after all and there were plenty of orphans in it. Even though her family was alive there were many times she was, in her own way, she was an orphan herself. The grand duchess knew the look that came over Constantins features, it was one that she had had to deal with many times herself. In fact it was near common ground in the Circus. Not common per say but there were plenty trained in the art and it struck at the oddest times. Apparently even when a tiger sneezed on you. Sitting up a bit more she reached out and laced her fingers with Constantins, giving him a concerned expression while she did. Sure they fought constantly but it was all in good fun. They were friends and had grown up together together in the circus. [color=a187be]"What did you see?"[/color] she asked softly. Her eyes darting over to Vlad in hopes he was taking note of what was going on in case someone had to catch Constantin if he fell. It happened more often than not and she was in no condition to try to do it herself. Sister Lazarus looked over towards Vlad and her brows furrowed. "I have dusting to do," she said flatly before her attention was grabbed by the others in the tent and a scene seemed to unfold. "Besides, I'm too old for this," she added before looking back over towards Mary and ignoring the rest. "This is a wicked indulgence of surroundings, brace yourself child," she added before turning and leaving the tent. Perhaps in her younger years she would have enjoyed such a night to be around people such as this, she was one of the more colorful nuns in the abbey but not anymore. Anyways, she had to get back to her home before Sister Alma forgot anything else.