[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=B22222]Vladimir Alexandrov[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/6ae86d34-76ab-48bf-a41f-e16258a72749.jpg[/img][h3][color=firebrick][b][i]"[u]The Great Bazhooli[/u]"[/i][/b][/color][/h3][/center][hr][hr][center][color=B22222][b]Location:[/b][/color] La Canela Ship 
[color=B22222][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [i]Fal'shbort[/i] (Passive), [i]Tretiy Glaz[/i] (Passive), English [/center][hr]

	Vladimir felt a sense of floating for a moment, a sort of lifting, swaying motion counter to that of the ship in deep water. Was he aboard a ship? He could not tell anymore, caught as he was fluctuating between the land of dreams and the waking world. Never too deep in either, yet still fuzzy enough to make it difficult to tell upon which side of the line he was at any moment. The uncertainty was both blissful and confusing, as were many of the images that visited his thoughts in that time. Every so often, a flash of discomfort took him, most likely from one of the fleeting moments that leaned toward elusive lucidity. Dreams the mental flights of fancy never seemed be accompanied by sensation in a physical sense; it was more like a vivid and potent imagining. 

	Unfortunately, he used several delirious moments to vocalize. [color=B22222]"Mmm... da, u menya yest' chuvstva k tebe. No poka rano govorit' muzhu..."[/color][sub]1[/sub] Though he had intentionally made a big showing of the Captain repeating back a single word in his native Russian, it was perhaps best if she did not actually understand the language. She did understand English, however, and though Vladimir did not generally dream in the language, he did understand it better than he chose to speak it and he had been using it almost exclusively since arriving in London. Sleepily, one might hear him continue, [color=B22222]"Da, my saltvater flower. You have gluteus vith beauty of sky after summer rain. Come, let us embrace every flavor life can offer, vithin arms of each other. Our loins vill [i]sing[/i] duet of [i]impassioned burning[/i]..."[/color] 

	Vladimir's eyes snapped open. With haste but caution, they darted from one direction to the next, taking in as much detail as they possibly could in a scant couple of seconds. He was in a bed. Not his own, but around him were the colors of his people; red and black, gold shimmering in places. Throw in white moderately and he might have been convinced that he was back with the Circus, in a recently remodeled tent or particularly spacious vardo. But that still wouldn't have accounted for the rolling motion of the sea beneath him. As quickly as he dared, Vlad pushed himself to a sitting position and asked aloud, to no one in particular even if he was alone in the room, [color=B22222]"Hat... and bottle. Meeting vith Captain Montoya. Am requiring very fine hat and very finer bottle I vas having before door sprang to attack. Anyvone, for please?"[/color] Let it never be said that Vladimir Alexandrov was not a man of priorities. 

[hider=Translations]
1	=	"Mmm... yes, I have feelings for you. But it is too soon to tell your husband..."
[/hider]