Gilbert Summers, "The Hat"
Location: Ville au Camp (Kitchen House -> Carnival Setup)
Skills: Perception, Cooking
Gilbert walked as casually as he dared, moving back to the grounds that they had set aside for the carnival to set up. He kept his posture and tone of voice as nonchalant as possible, despite his growing lack of trust. It was not directed at everyone involved with the Carnival, however - Gil had the sight and historical recall that every Emendator possessed, and had utilized it earlier. Most of these people were average, hard working individuals who made a passable living as Carny Folk. Not his first choice for a living, personally. Yet it must afford certain perks and freedoms generally not visited upon your standard Joe the Plumber or cubicle dweller. There was a definitive "To Each Their Own" opinion about it, as Gilbert had himself lived under many, many different circumstances depending upon the culture he had blended into over his long years.
As he walked, he attempted to address Faith's concerns,
"The use of he words 'hidden' and 'sketchy' are premature, Faith. You should understand, we are a team. Emendators and Paradoxes, for longer than empires have flourished. Many times longer than the reckoning of a single human memory. Part of being in a team is playing your role within it. Trust that we have the best interests in mind and act toward them." Gilbert looked to Faith with raised eyebrow,
"And understand that we do sometimes make mistakes. It has happened before. If you believe that we are doing just that, reserve yourself until we might speak of it away from outsiders. Disagreement in mixed company makes us look weak. The appearance of weakness is a tool at our disposal; dangerous if misused." His voice lightened to something almost cheery and he summarized,
"Have a little faith, Faith." The broad smile returned, and he realized that they were then standing amid the carnival setup. Bright eyes scanned the crowd, easily picking out the Paradoxes where they stood, going about the tasks he had put them to just earlier. One such Paradox approached him; it was Bart, and he came bearing a gift. Gilbert took the wooden peg, eyeing it with scrutiny. His gaze went back to the hulk of disarticulated metal that was the Colossus, and back to the slender piece of wood in his hand.
"Thank you, Bartholomew. Keep near, we are gathering our people." Gil slipped the peg into a pocket. That would be the object of a talk later.
In the back of his mind, unexpressed, there was a nagging question as to the location of one of the Emendators. It was very much unlike The Watch to go missing - he was the one who was a stickler for schedule and punctuality in all things, even as Gilbert's views were a lot more relaxed unless circumstances dictated otherwise. Evie was gone to parts unknown, Nancy had her own task outside of the Loop to perform, Drem had been lost to them permanently. These were things he knew. Giosue? His absence was worrisome without prominent explanation.
James Grady
Location: Ville au Camp (Carnival Setup)
Skills: Perception
It was on James's mind, too. He'd only seen one Emendator that morning past the very first of it. This whole, seemingly unnatural event was made even more sinister by the lack of Emendators trying to oversee it. Oh, he'd trained with Gilbert near enough, and would follow the man into the jaws of Hell if the tall man told him they could fight their way back out. That was what he did. A damn good trainer and a damn good Field Marshall. But the more domestic end of things? He'd seen the guy destroy a kitchen like a pro. If there wasn't a task at had or training afoot, James had often heard obnoxiously loud snoring coming from Gilbert's workshop late in the morning, as if the man didn't feel like walking back to the main house and was sleeping in besides. The Watch was unaccounted for, and he felt the need for answers.
But first, he needed to cram that net back into the truck. Luckily, they were almost done. James was, in fact, just shoving the last bit back into place when Sophia made her comment about he and Andromeda. Him being close to anyone wasn't something he had thought about for a very long time, even from before he died. Yet, after all he had been though, all the carnage and the hurt (both inflicted and received), after waves of hope and despair punctuated with horror, murder, and finally the brutal training at the hands of immortals to make him into what he had become... Getting a kiss on the cheek and having Sophia make a casual comment made him embarrassed. At least he could take this as a sign that he hadn't lost his humanity yet. He clung to it, even if he really wasn't so much anymore.
James's initial reaction was to think that he was a little old for someone like Andromeda. He probably had a decade on the woman. But did that have the same kind of meaning in this place, with these people? It was a reminder of how young they all were, comparatively. And if they remained as they were for ten years, twenty, a century? Belladonna didn't look a day over his own age, younger even. But she was a few hundred years old at least. What began as a bit of boyishness turned into a full-blown existential question. What were they, anymore? The word "Paradox" was looking more and more appropriate as time passed. The only comment on it that he would make on the whole situation was a noncommittal,
"C'mon now, Sophie. Miss Andy can do way better than me, an' she knows it. I'm just grateful she don't mind me hangin' around." Her next question, James took seriously. His voice a little quieter, he answered,
"These people... They hidin' somethin. They're okay - seem cool enough - but somethin' ain't bein' said what needs to. But I'll tell you, I just don't think they're here to do us no hurt, neither. Tell you what I wanna know, and it's a whole other subject: Where's Gio at?"