[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=a0522d]Gilbert Summers, "The Hat"[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://st2.depositphotos.com/5326338/8137/i/450/depositphotos_81379998-stock-photo-actor-jason-momoa.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=sienna]Location:[/color][/b] Ville au Camp (Kitchen House) 
[b][color=a0522d]Skills:[/color][/b] History [hr][/center]

	The frilly apron selection was hanging just inside of the door, near the coatrack and stand for galoshes. Charming if old-fashioned, and highly convenient for the cook on the go. He selected one that was obviously not meant for a man of his breadth, complete with a pocket in the front decorated with a lovely floral pattern. While he took a moment to tie the strings around his waist, Gilbert dipped into his memory intrinsic to humanity's history. It was one of the best, most useful things about being an Emendator, in his opinion. Truthful knowledge of the human condition from the beginning of civilization. This time, he used it to find out more about their guests. 

	It didn't take but a moment, as it usually did not, but when he brought his thoughts back to the present a confused look crossed his face. Gilbert turned and walked the couple of steps back outside, narrowed eyes taking in the scene in front of him. The young man who was with the carnies, Ben, was speaking to his Paradoxes. He stood, listening to the commentary all around while giving Ben a piercing, inquisitive look. It seemed that breakfast (or second breakfast, in Sophia's case) was a welcome concept by all of the Paradoxes, though response hadn't come from the young man present just yet. 

	Gilbert smiled in the manner that he usually did and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Addressing Andromeda, he proclaimed, [color=a0522d]"Then yours shall have chocolate chips."[/color] He nodded, and then looked back to Ben who had apparently decided to begin interacting with his people. Perhaps he meant well. But what The Hat gleaned from his look into history gave him more questions than answers; such unknown factors that he wanted to know more about before he was comfortable allowing them around the newer Paradoxes alone. Another factor was that the people of the carnival now outnumbered the total Emendators and Paradoxes combined present in Ville au Camp. This had not gone unnoticed by the eternal soldier. Some instincts never went away. [color=a0522d]"Benjamin? Ben... when was the last time you had a decent breakfast? Come along inside. Pancakes and pork sausage, and we will see if we cannot get some hot coffee brewing and a glass of cold milk. Or whatever strikes your mood this morning. We have, and to spare. And I feel that we should get acquainted. Do you not?"[/color] 

	Back again inside the Kitchen House. There was breakfast to prepare. 

 

[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=cd5c5c]James Grady[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]http://home.bt.com/images/hap-leonard-james-purefoy-136416888779002601[/img][hr][b][color=indianred]Location:[/color][/b] Ville au Camp (Main House, Room 209 -> )
[b][color=cd5c5c]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	James stood in the gallery, near the top of the steps for a couple of minutes. He was trying to figure out for himself exactly what he was feeling at that moment and he was coming up short. There were aspects of this whole dilemma that were painfully familiar. Enough at least to remind him of old wounds, if not actually reopen them. He remembered her death in his own timeline. This flash of light and sudden disappearance at least seemed like it was more merciful a passing than before. 

	He remembered Alicia's words from when he first became a Paradox. She had told him that she was not the Alicia of his timeline, not completely. She had the memories, technically she was still the same person, but this Alicia was of another history wherein there was no Undead Uprising. There was still a United States and the dead stayed dead. Whatever fairy tale universe that was, however, she was still murdered in it. James hoped that his friend found peace - one thing he could not have for himself. 

	Sighing, James put his hands in his pockets. He debated where he should go now and what he should do, now that he had free time. The mental debate wasn't which activity he should get into, personal training or working with his Paradox abilities, going fishing maybe, or just sitting on the porch and enjoying a glass of hot chocolate early in the morning; the debate was whether to do anything at all or crawl back into his bed and wait for the day to pass. James felt a slip of paper in his pocket, which he pulled out to inspect. It was his Emendator assessments. He unfolded it and read it again. 

	[color=indianred]"Intelligent. Personable. Patient. Protective. Leadership qualities."[/color] Then his voice lowered, [color=indianred]"Rage. Dangerous. Darkness in him."[/color] To be fair, it wasn't anything he hadn't said about himself. James was dead. These people had tested him, trained him, and still wanted him around. Hell, they even had a lot of good things to say about him, despite everything he was and everything he [i]did[/i]. Being a Paradox meant something different from being perfect, and loss, apparently, was part of that. 

	All hell breaking loose. One week of down time. Fine. James wasn't going to crawl into bed and wait to die or get over it. He had new friends, or at least new allies now who needed him to be who he was, darkness and all. Loss and all. Okay, James was going to go get some breakfast and meet this new challenge head on. With a resolute look on his face, James descended the stairs and began walking toward the Kitchen House. Tequila later.