[hr][hr][center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/6db984d3-4c29-457c-84f7-fd720c6f3470.png[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/3068ada6-2525-4e47-b1a8-14d98dfb6177.jpg[/img][/center][hr][center][color=firebrick][b]Passive Skills:[/b][/color] [list][*] [u]Fal'shbort[/u] - You are tougher, stronger, more Russian! [*] [u]Tretiy Glaz[/u] - An ability that gives a person a sixth sense into the future. Unpredictable and random.[/list][/center][hr][hr][center][color=firebrick][b]Location:[/b][/color] Russian Imperial Circus Tent City (Regent's Park) [/center][hr][hr]

	Vladimir was just beginning to give orders to the appropriate people to have this matter handled with expedience and grace when Elizaveta strode out, dressed in the appropriate finery befitting the daughter of an Emperor, and gave her own set of reasonable requests on the handling of the situation. Truth be told, Vlad already had a decent handle on the situation, but the advice about the hay on the ground was one that he had not considered. The nearby horse pens that the flaming clown recently entered and exited would be an excellent source for just this commodity; bales of the stuff should be packed away with the animals' fodder and it was easily replaced. The five hundred pound tiger licking the neck-hole of the very recently fallen woman was unsettling to the extreme, however, the beast responded to Veta's verbal cues readily. If Myshka ever decided not to one day, they would all be in a heap of trouble. 

	[color=firebrick]"Da! Right avay, Grand Duchess!"[/color] he called back to his adoptive daughter, waving one hand above his head and clutching the severed head by its hair with the other. He kept it low until he was absolutely certain that Adam was out of direct line of sight, the same forced smile upon his face, before dropping the highly unsuccessful act of pantomiming nonchalance. A great, blustering sigh escaped his face and he slumped over, seemingly exhausted with the mere thought of what had to be done in the face of one of the most important meetings that the Circus might ever have. 

	All at once, Vladimir rose himself to his full height and did one of the things that he did best - he began to yell. A forceful voice, to be sure, commanding and confident, spurring his people to coordinated action. [color=firebrick]"Sem'ya! Circus! You have heard vords of kind and beautiful Grand Duchess! Ve do this! Like never happened!"[/color] He looked around for a second, still holding the severed head of the young woman. When his eyes fell upon a nearby roustabout, he spoke to the man directly. [color=firebrick]"If please, find Ringmaster Viktor. Tell him vhat has happened. He is good vith speaking; tell him for please to inform family."[/color] His voice grew in depth and force again as he addressed the remaining persons about his general vicinity. Considering the crowd that gathered, they were plentiful. [color=firebrick]"Ve do this quick! Graveolase and other guests arriving [i]now[/i]. I have head. Get body, roll both in cloth. [b]Make sure head facing right direction[/b]. Is important."[/color] 

	There were a few members of his direct family nearby, the extended Alexandrov Family of the Circus, more appropriately known in these environs as "Bazhooli" (singular or plural). [color=firebrick]"Get Bazhooli Sem'ya together, ve must prepare. Graveolase avaits. Tonight, ve dance the Grand Mamushka! Everyvon else... ...be impressive. Be yourselves. [i]Squeeze[/i] every drop from your souls, and help these people to see our greatness. Above all, [i]panache[/i]."[/color] He raised his arms above his head, bringing his small speech to a crescendo, [color=firebrick]"Okay! Ve know vhat to do! Qvickly now, let us be off!"[/color] 

	It took him a spare second to realize that he still had an eerily staring head in his hand, prompting an immediate exclamation of [color=firebrick]"Дерьмо!"[/color] and the dropping of his arms to his sides. He palmed the human casaba and walked carefully in the direction of the formerly living person's horse. Other members of the Circus were advancing carefully from the other direction, and in a few moments they had the body corralled and the head more or less resting atop the corpse's neck, rolled up in a sheet of canvas. The worst of it was done. 

	The Great Bazhooli stood back up, and looked in the general vicinity of the salad-eating firewalker. [color=firebrick]"Costantin! For please, can you get bale of hay? Ve need ground cover, and the peoples are arriving [i]now[/i]."[/color] 

	


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[center][img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/82/54/0d/82540d6136ce1f6f809735b7e793127b--redhead-makeup-molly-quinn.jpg[/img]
[sub][color=c0c0c0]"I will speak the truth at all times, and forever keep my word."[/color][/sub]
[hr][color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] Russian Imperial Circus Tent City (Regent's Park) [/center][hr][hr]

	Sometimes the laws of the Church and the rules of her Order weighed upon Mary's freedom of choice. It was cumbersome sometimes, but she understood that their ways were there for reasons. Some of them were more obvious than others, granted. Their regimentation, their level of organization, their attention to recording events and, last but not least, their network of communication were powerful (if mundane) strengths of the Vatican. Mary was but a set of eyes and ears for her people, and a sword in dark times if called upon. A cog in the great clockwork that was The Church. It was who she was. 

	Then a thought occurred to her. As of that morning, she had officially received word of her promotion to Dame Commander of the Order of St. Sylvester. So far as her standing went in the Order, Mary was no longer outranked by Bishop Mansfield. Within the Church was different, but she was not part of the standing clergy of St. Etheldreda's Church - she was their resident Knight. The thought was a revelation. The rank of Dame Commander gave her the responsibility to command the Papal Knights and active Papal Dames of her region; assign tasks, initiate actions covered by the writ of the Order. In practice, Mary was the only one. She was a commander without soldiery to order about. This meant that she did [i]not[/i] have to pass her actions by the Bishop, though he still served as her liaison to the Vatican. She could assign herself tasks and carry them out accordingly, and report to the Grand Cross of her order as it was necessary. This was a touch more freedom than to which she was accustomed. It felt weird. 

	Renewed strength in her voice, Mary addressed Elizaveta. [color=c0c0c0]"The moment we have time, Your Grace, I wish to speak to you privately. Before we meet with the Graveolase, if it please you."[/color] There were a couple of things that needed to be handled before she stretched her newfound authority. Come to think of it, she needed to speak with Virginia before the meeting as well. There was a lot to go through before sitting down with these people. Much to do, little time in which to do it. Best to start soon.