[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=firebrick]Vladimir Alexandrov[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/3068ada6-2525-4e47-b1a8-14d98dfb6177.jpg[/img][h3][color=firebrick][b][i]"[u]The Great Bazhooli[/u]"[/i][/b][/color][/h3][/center][hr][hr][center][color=firebrick][b]Location:[/b][/color] London (Northwest Inner Wall) -> Exiting London (By means of Northwest Inner Wall)
[color=firebrick][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [i]Fal'shbort[/i] (Passive), [i]Tretiy Glaz[/i] (Passive), [i]Brivaldi[/i], English [/center][hr]

	Part of being a Bazhooli, or indeed any member of the Circus, meant that you lived a rather active life. Especially if you were a Bazhooli, and Vladimir was quite literally the Bazhooli'est Bazhooli living. This active life and constant training gave him certain physical advantages over more average working men, laborers, etc., reflected in the strength of his arm and nimbleness of movement. He used these attributes solidly to carry out Ludwig's directions as they played the most memorable game of Chess of the talented Rusyn's life. Just as memorable was the result of that game. 

	The movement of the Wall of Jericho was a truly impressive thing indeed. Vladimir, standing directly in front of the spectacle as the gap continued to widen, accompanied by the mechanical shake of the ground around them. This was not a thing that happened generally, seeing as walls were usually designed to stay solid and maintain a sense of security. Logically this had to have been constructed for a specific reason; The Great Bazhooli doubted that reason was to assist the Russian Imperial Circus in their unplanned escape from London. Ideas of philosophy or the motivation of long departed engineers aside, it was one amazing sight. 

	The Baron seemed to agree with Vlad's unspoken awe. His expression mirrored his son's, complete with the eyes sparkling with childlike wonder. Such was a sight never seen by the traveling folk, and they had seen much in their lifetimes. It was inspiring. Back in the procession, Konstantin Alexandrov stood atop his father's vardo, likewise highly interested in seeing an entire section of city fortification part before them. 

	The Great Bazhooli viewed the wonder of the sudden opening and looked to his father. He swept off his grand, tall hat and bowed low, drawing his hand to one side in a dramatic gesture. [color=firebrick]"Honor of first steps to you, my Baron."[/color] he said through a broad, gratified smile. The elder Alexandrov nodded his head and acted upon the insistence of his eldest son, leading his Circus out of London by means of a path not used in an age, if ever. As the Circus recovered from the event and pressed forward, Vlad put his fingers to his lips and blew out a whistle, following it up with a rather melodious call of, [color=firebrick]"[i]Tolstoy![/i]"[/color] 

	Within the matter of a quarter minute, a great black horse bred of Old Don stock came trotting up from the animal handler's mobile menagerie, fitted with full tack. It whinnied and snorted, then nuzzled up to Vladimir like they were old friends. The zealous Russian man leapt upon the noble beast, gently urging him ahead with promises of brushings and good, cold vodka. Upon rejoining the lead carts, Vladimir voiced a bit of a concern to Ludwig: [color=firebrick]"Vall? ...closes back, da? Vall closed, peoples feeling safe. Vall open, not feel as safe. Angry, scared peoples. Closes, da?"[/color]



[hr][hr][center][h1][color=c0c0c0][i][b]Sister Mary Ignatia Hale[/b][/i][/color][/h1][/center]
[center][img]http://image.phimmoi.net/profile/356/medium.jpg[/img]
[sub][color=c0c0c0]"Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit." -Isaiah 17:9[/color][/sub]
[hr][color=c0c0c0][b]Location:[/b][/color] Nottingham (Stables)
[color=c0c0c0][b]Skills:[/b][/color] The Sacrament [/center][hr][hr] 

	The notion that Virginia had some interest in a section of Catholic lore, however small a slice of it, was heartwarming. Of course, Mary figured only about half of the written history on the works of St. Gertrude would hold her interest. She was not a solemn death goddess in her own right; it was fairer to describe her as a representative of Christ who bore mercy for the dead and dying faithful. Though there were some accounts of her earlier life that painted a risque, occasionally sinful image of her. [color=c0c0c0]"I daresay you may find the teachings of the old Christian Gnostics worth a read, as well. Far less organized than the present incarnation of the Holy Roman Catholic Church, nonetheless their views on death and the veneration of Saints are..."[/color] She searched for the proper word to describe what she had been taught about the origins of her faith, settling on, [color=c0c0c0]"Provocative."[/color] Much of it now considered heretical, but yes, also provocative. 

	Mary listened patiently as Virginia explained directly to Veta the details of her spirit's trip outside of her earthly constraints. Occasionally, she looked over the big, white tiger, Myshka. The beast did not seem to want to go anywhere. After the previous night, Mary could not blame the poor animal any more than she could blame her own horse for needing to rest after the same journey. Fortunately for her horse, Elizaveta used one of her people's abilities to help it recover. It was now her time to return the favor. 

	Kneeling down near Myshka as Veta petted his fur, Mary called upon her Trained skill of [i]Timyne[/i] and fueled it as best she could with mercy and the urgency of their mission. [color=c0c0c0]"Loving Father, exhale a breath of compassion upon Your noble beast; be it Thy will, let him rise to our aid, nourished and refreshed by Your mercy. Amen."[/color] She made the motions of a cross before her, ending by kissing the crucifix at the end of her rosary. The prayer wasn't actually necessary for the invocation of the skill, but it helped to center her. Carefully. Mary lay a hand upon Myshka's flank and allowed the blissful, healing energy of [i]Timyne[/i] to sweep over the great, white tiger.