[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=556B2F]Thalken Talink[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://media.giphy.com/media/2xPJ9k8Ku6YLnIS5he/giphy.gif[/img][/center][center][I][h3][color=556B2F]I've said it so many times. I would change my ways.
No, nevermind. God knows I've tried...

[/color][/h3][/I][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XbzkaznpZD0][color=556B2F]- [I]"Call Me" by Shinedown[/I][/color][/url][/center]
[hr][hr][center][b][color=556B2F]Location:[/color][/b] Russian Imperial Circus Tent City (Regent's Park) - Stables
[b][color=556B2F]Skills:[/color][/b] None currently
[/center][hr]
	Thalken leaned against the doorframe of the makeshift stall, stopping to rub his temple in a vain attempt at easing the pounding in his head. His brows were furrowed, his eyes downcast, and his face was contorted into a grimace. Even the dark ruminations that normally pervaded his mind were put at a standstill by the pain of his massive hangover. He was essentially forced to just live in the moment, a very sucky moment to be precise. Yet, the concept wasn't something he was particularly adept at, always too busy obsessing on the sins of his past and ever anxious about how they would affect his future. It was a pointless endeavor really that only served to make his life a living hell in the meantime. So, perhaps in some messed up way, this situation would prove beneficial, therapeutic even, for him. Maybe. Or maybe it would just give him amble opportunity to screw things up for himself once more, to sabotage all his hard work leading up to this chance at redemption. Well, only time would tell.

	His dark eyed gaze came up as he heard a commotion. His gaze looked past the guards to the woman they had brought in and were now conversing with. When his gaze landed on the platter of food and drinks in her possession, his hand fell back down to his side and he pushed away from the doorway. His stomach gurgled as he eyed the food, and he absentmindedly licked his dry lips. He was parched and famished. He tapped his foot impatiently as they wrapped up their little chat with the now miffed looking woman followed by their moment of joviality at whatever had just occurred. He breathed a sigh of relief when they finally brought the food and drinks over. And then, the guard suddenly pulled out a damn pistol on him! Thalken's eyes narrowed slightly and he cocked his head to the side with a expression that said "really?" He let out a small huff of annoyance and gave a roll of his eyes before slowly backing up into the stall with his hands raised.

	Thalken waited for the guards to safely retreat before he went over to the platter of food and drinks. He restrained himself from rushing over to it like he wanted to. He didn't want to give the guards the satisfaction. He sat down cross-legged and picked up the mug with the darker looking liquid. He recoiled as the unmistakable scent of alcohol hit his nose. [I]Like hell.[/I] He unceremoniously tossed the mug, liquid and all, over his shoulder. He cringed slightly when he heard the mug shatter into pieces somewhere behind him. [I]Oops.[/I] He then reached for the mug of goat's milk and gladly took several generous gulps of it before digging into the food.
[hr][hr]
[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=DC143C]Fyror Kildragon[/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[img]https://media.giphy.com/media/3oKIPfz9cQZIJsAMw0/giphy.gif[/img][/center][center][I][h3][color=DC143C]Good people are like candles;
They burn themselves up to give others light.
[/color][/h3][/I][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lhv_yFMuwxs][color=DC143C]- [I]"Vengeance" by Zack Hemsey[/I][/color][/url][/center]
[hr][hr][center][b][color=DC143C]Location:[/color][/b] Manchester, England 
[b][color=DC143C]Skills:[/color][/b] Court etiquette, Leadership 
[/center][hr]
	Fyror's gaze, which had otherwise been transfixed on the ruins of Manchester, moved, as out of the blue a woman's voice floated to his ears. He turned, following the sound of her voice, to face a foreign blonde-haired woman. The sternness that had previously overcome his features soon softened, taking with it some of the intensity of his mangled face, as his gaze landed on her comparatively more diminutive form. He inclined his head out of courtesy. His auburn brows furrowed the slightest bit at her words, and he was about to say something in reply when Mr. Connolly suddenly made his presence known.

	He looked back over at Gerard and nodded his head grimly. [color=DC143C]"Indeed, we must make haste. We can ask around a bit here, see if anyone has heard or seen Lord Rutherford or know of his whereabouts, but if we can't get a solid lead we must continue on as we were,"[/color] he replied, taking on the role of leader with a certain ease. His attention then returned to the woman, just as Mr. Connolly's did too. [color=DC143C]"And I am Sir Fyror Kildragon, infantry captain of Colchester Garrison,"[/color] Fyror added with a soft, albeit slightly strained, smile. [color=DC143C]"Perhaps you could tell us about this attack whilst we accompany you to the aid station, with your permission, of course."[/color]