[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=B22222]Vladimir Alexandrov[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://mpgirrrl.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/moulinrouge_25.jpg?w=490&h=204[/img][/center]
[hr][hr][center][color=B22222][b]Location:[/b][/color] Gretna Green, Church
[color=B22222][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [i][b]Fal'shbort[/b][/i] (Passive), [i]Tretiy Glaz[/i] (Passive), English[/center][hr]

	As unbelievable as it might seem, this was not Vladimir's first time being thrown halfway across a church. Time seemed to slow down as he hurtled back through the air, courtesy of the telling, sternum-staving blow that propelled him. It gave him time to think. Oh sure, the landing was going to be the least fun part of this while experience, but who gets to see stained glass from the inside hurtle by at 47 miles per hour? Really, it was an experience. Sure, he might die; but today, he was really [i]living[/i]. Just before he made epic landfall, the last thing to cross his mind was a question: If he really did die, which of his people would be bestowed the mantle of The Great Bazhooli? It had to be embraced by an Alexandrov, and there were certain requirements besides. His eldest boy had the skills, but honestly (as this was a moment for honesty, if nothing else), did he possess the depth of character? Of intensity? Did he have enough [i]panache[/i] to become Vladmir's successor? 

	The entire line of thought was rendered moot in one shattering nanosecond, as his body impacted with the heavy, wooden church pew. It broke into several pieces, partially burying the valiant Russian underneath its debris as it continued collapsing on top of him. A thin cloud of dust rose, and for too many heartbeats, the destruction lay still. 

	Suddenly, a great clattering of wooden shrapnel could be heard as pieces exploded up and away from the site of impact. Vladimir kicked himself into a standing position with a great bellow of, [color=B22222]"[i]HAAA![/i]"[/color] His hands still contained balanced, sharpened steel, and he appeared absolutely uninjured by the crash, as if an invisible shield made of pure intestinal fortitude and refined, weapons-grade histrionics surrounded him, protecting him from harms both supernatural and mundane. Vladimir leaned his head to either side, resulting in audible popping sounds from the bones of his neck, and then reiterated the concept of who he was and what he did with a raspy, accented roar of, [color=B22222]"[i]Fal'shbort[/i], bitches! RAAHHH!"[/color] Seemingly, absolutely [i]zero[/i] the worse for wear, Vladimir strode purposefully toward the inversely soulled creature, kicking the scraps of church pew from his boots in the process. 

	He paused, reaching a hand up to his forehead. There indeed had been a casualty of the attack upon his person, as a single lock of dark chestnut had pulled free from the rest of his marvellously groomed, oiled pate of thick, luxurious hair. It hung forward, swaying back and forth as he walked just at the top of his vision, until he lifted a finger from the handle of his knife and pushed it back. But it looked like it might fall free again. [color=B22222]"You!"[/color] he yelled accusingly to the beast, [color=B22222]"You disturb [b]follicles[/b] (is right, follicles? Da? Da, okay) [i][b]follicles[/b][/i], of The Great Bazhooli!"[/color] He nodded, a building of drama and rage noteworthy in his eyes. [color=B22222]"Vill not go unanswered,"[/color] he promised. Having made his way to the tapestry left unattended and unstrung by the acquisition of the cord as a weapon component, Vladimir tossed one end of it over a wall candelabra and pierced the other end with one of his knives. If all else fails, try burning. 

	[color=B22222]"NOW,"[/color] he boomed, [color=B22222]"let us try the same trick ...[i]ON FIRE![/i]"[/color] 


[hider=Roll Request]
Character current location: Gretna Green, Church
Characters attempted actions: To hurl a sharp projectile trailing a flaming tapestry into the creature
Any and all skills being used: Thrown Weapons 
Why each skill is being called: Because he isn't saying it with flowers
Desired location of the character: N/A
[/hider]