[hr][hr][center][color=sienna][h1][i][b]Gilbert Summers, "The Hat"[/b][/i][/h1][/color][/center]
[center][img]https://robotmanmachine.files.wordpress.com/2013/07/jasonmshadow.jpg[/img][/center][hr][hr][center][color=sienna][b]Location:[/b][/color] Ville au Camp, Kitchen House
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	The impromptu education on the proper cup of Builder's Tea was a cheerful continuation to Gilbert's morning. It was nice to see Evelyn mirthful, if just a little. He noticed that "a little" became "a little more" as her accent shifted into something a hair more Cockney. The least he could do was acquiesce to her request for the perfect cup of tea in the broader but still early hours of the day. [color=sienna]"No problem, Evie."[/color] He smiled, showing off damned near perfect teeth framed with a warm expression. He picked up his burgundy ascot from the back of his chair and hung it about his neck untied, thusly doubling the number of visible articles of clothing he was wearing at that moment. Between that and his pants, he was (very) slowly amassing a passable ensemble. 

	He gave a nonverbal offer before adding an amount of milk and sugar to Evelyn's cup, and continued his end of the discussion. [color=sienna]"But of course. I would remind that the workaday ladies and gentlemen that are only allotted a handful of decades above ground have mastered the art of the perfect cup of tea. But I do admit that you have spent much more time in Western Tea Country."[/color] The comment about the choice of cup was also noted. Being honest, he would have said that he had completely forgotten the preferred style of cup in that moment, but there was no way he was going to just come out and say that. [color=sienna]"You are right, of course. I can't just hand you a [i]mug[/i] though, Evelyn. You are far too graceful for something so clunky this early in the day. We need to see you just like this: Petite, intelligent, powerful, and ever the lady."[/color] He smiled warmly again before sitting back down in front of his breakfast and shoving it into his face with semi-abandon. Luckily, there was a napkin present. It would likely be very needed. 

	The next bit of conversation took a more down note, sadly, as he may have overstepped a line with her concerning her abilities as an Emendator. Theirs were not gifts that they asked to obtain. Sometimes, even his were a burden. It must be doubly so for The Dice, if not more. Luck be a Lady, but no one ever asked the Lady if she wanted the honor in the first place. Gilbert tried to look as understanding as possible through his assault on steak and eggs and bread and fruit. Such was his way. 

	The last two things that she said to him were fairly pointed. Of course the day was unending. That was the point of their little temporal oasis. But the very last one... Checkmate. Gil invented the damned game a LONG time ago, and though it had gone through changes over the past few millennia, it was still Chess. Mentally reviewing the board however, she was correct. He sprinted to the back door which Evelyn had just left, calling out after her jokingly, [color=sienna]"This will not stand, woman! GAAHH!"[/color] Sighing, he continued with an almost defeated, [color=sienna]"...Pawn to Queen Four..."[/color] 

	At least he could return to what was still a nice, warm, massive breakfast, though now with less company. 




[hr][hr][h1][b][i][color=indianred][center]James Grady[/center][/color][/i][/b][/h1]
[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/71765f2d-e700-4975-ad6c-7bced9ae709c.jpg[/img][/center][hr][hr][center][color=indianred][b]Location:[/b][/color] Ville au Camp - Main House, Room 209 -> Room 107 [/center][hr]

	Sadly, no one passed by James's room while he was in clothing transition. Though his frame once went a little toward the girthy, he noticed that the years he spent living and laboring in what amounted to the worst parts of the Bible had worked some changes to him. He was a little older. There was no denying that. Time and terrors had taken their toll, but living to survive and help others survive had made him a leaner, stronger, more constitute individual. Okay, so it also drove him into a state of mental anguish wherein one particularly bad night and following morning nudged him to commit an act of murder. Maybe he had to, maybe he didn't. He'll never know now. But physically, James was doing just fine for a man in his forties. And now he had his troublemaking partner back. This might not be Heaven, but he was pretty sure it wasn't Hell, either. 

	During his rapid clothing switch, he heard something clatter on the floor next to him. From his pocket, a single curve of what appeared to be ivory fell and came to rest next to his boots. Carefully, he picked it up, examining the curious item. He remembered what this was from his previous life, though memories from what seemed to be just yesterday were still fuzzy. It was a tusk, one that came from a boar. He could not say why he had it now, any more than he could have told himself with certainty why he woke up in clothing better suited to ginning cotton. It was strange. But everything so far this day was, anyway. He tucked the tusk into a pocket of his overalls and looked around his room to see what else was provided for him. 

	The basic amenities were there; bed and dresser, mirror, etc. Basic furniture that one might find in a bedroom of the era. Interestingly, there was a fireplace as well. That was a feature he could appreciate. While he stood, giving a touch of awe to the respectable fire alcove, his eye caught a few things lined up on the dresser along the wall. One was a very familiar ornate brass necklace, featuring a detailed casting of a stag's head. Very gaudy for someone like James, but it wasn't his originally. It belonged to someone close to him, a fellow archer and agriculturalist named Maria. It was from Maria that the people of Newnan learned a very valuable lesson, turned into a horrifying cautionary tale: 

[center][b][i]Never kiss a corpse.[/i][/b][/center]

	The necklace went to her sister after her passing, and upon his exile she gifted it to James. He genuinely cared about those girls. They were like family. It was a bittersweet reminder of them both. He picked it up for a moment, looking at it wistfully, then put it back down reverently. Slowly, he moved to close his door. About halfway through the motion, he stopped, transfixed by what was hanging on the back of it. He started to smile. Then he started to laugh. The Call of the Mirthy Blackneck sounded down the hallway as James tried hard not to fall over, his hand coming to rest on the nearby wall. He laughed long and loud, and when he had to pause to wipe the tears from his eyes, he looked back at it again. Really took it in. It was a [url=https://tackyweddings.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/rtjacketvestbowtiepants1.jpg?w=450]tuxedo[/url], the last one he had worn for the last wedding he attended for the last night he spent in his home, around the people he considered family. It dawned on him, his tears weren't just because he was laughing so hard. 

	[color=indianred]"Hell with this, I'm findin' my girl Sophia..."[/color] he decided on the spot. Alicia said she was in room 107, so that's where he was going, and now. He pulled his boots back on and stepped outside of his appointed room, locked it up, and put the key securely in his pocket. He descended the stairs across the hallway, and navigated the rectangular path of the corridor until he located Room 107. James took in a deep breath, let it out, and gave three solid knocks. [color=indianred]"Hey there, neighbor! Y'all mind if I can borrow a cuppa sugar?"[/color]