[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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	Alicia and Gilbert seemed to have a similar style of table manners while at leisure. That is to say, none really at all except for the broadest of concepts. For example, neither of them had used their sleeves or tablecloth as a napkin yet and both of them were using forks. Being fair, there wasn't a cloth over the table at any rate and Gil wasn't in sleeves, but the principle remained the same. The fork issue was actually something that Gilbert had to learn, once upon a time, as his existence predated the invention of the personal table fork. Still, it was a welcome addition to his repertoire of common human knowledge. Gilbert was knowledgeable of, and indeed fond of formal dining etiquette when it was called for; otherwise he couldn't be bothered. This was particularly true of times when he was eating with Alicia, who again, shared a similar style of table manners. 

	He would have answered her question straightaway, but one of the few points of tact he possessed prevented him from speaking openly with a mouth crammed full of steak and eggs. He answered her first question (concerning why he couldn't be outside for a few minutes) with a shrug, tilting his head to the side. Not that he minded so much sharing a bit of his meaty preparations with her, but she seemed to have moved on from it as quickly as she brought it up. When she started cooking, Gilbert immediately started kicking himself for neglecting to include Bacon in his breakfast. Tomorrow, maybe. 

	Alicia's second question also seemed to resolve itself. He had attempted to motion over to where it lay, failing to pass along the message as she had already began turning back around to see to her meal. So, he continued to happily munch away until she had finished preparing her own food. 

	[color=sienna]"Yes, Eve was just here, actually."[/color] Finally, a question that he could answer. [color=sienna]"I think she was headed in the general direction of the servants' quarters."[/color] It was a funny and irregular language, English. He had become quite enamored with the continued use of it. Answering questions seemed a decent expression of the language. [color=sienna]"You know some of these people personally? This explains all the noise from earlier."[/color] The Emendator known colloquially as "The Hat" scraped a fair portion of chopped steak onto a bread plate and pushed it across the table to Alicia with his index finger. He raised his eyebrows for an instant and leaned back in his seat. Gilbert yawned a little and stretched, raising his arms high above his head and leaning back a bit. While his head was tilted back, his ears picked up the burbling sound of water on the stovetop. Deftly, Gilbert stepped out of his chair and procured two cups, dropped a full tea infuser in each, and poured the simmering water into each. He kept one cup for himself ad set the other in front of Alicia. [color=sienna]"Yeah, I'd say we do need stronger hot sauce. I'll see what I can do about that later. It's too bad that we can't easily find a Curry nearby. Have you ever tried Vindaloo? It's the closest thing to fire I think I have consumed. It's from India, or near there. Eh.."[/color] Gilbert was starting to ramble. 

	[color=sienna]"But to business,"[/color] he said in an ironically casual fashion. [color=sienna]"Did Evie mention how many will be joining the household today?"[/color] The tall immortal swept up his shirts and vest, finishing dressing himself next to the dwindling heap of his very large breakfast. [color=sienna]"I am to give the new group a tour of the grounds after they have settled in. I'd rather take care of it sooner than later. But first, you never speak much about your other timeline. The one with zombies? I think that is the term... This is where the new ones are from?"[/color] 


[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]

	James was relieved to see that she had taken the whole "Thou Art Dead" bit with grace and tact. He had half expected to see a woman who was broken and sobbing with depression. Hell, he kind of felt like doing that, himself. He didn't get to know Sophia all that well prior to her death, but she seemed like a stand-up lady. James accepted the hug and returned the gesture, giving her a formidable but not too forceful squeeze and lifting her off of the ground slightly. It was his way. 

	[color=indianred]"Ha HA, girl! It's damn nice to see another friendly face up in here! I mean, I'm sorry you're dead an' all, but still, it's good to see you. Now, you [i]gotta[/i] know I ain't needin' no sugar, Sugar. But I'll be happy to step inside an' visit a while."[/color] The optimistic blackneck took a step of two inside of Sophia's room, nodding his head with a grateful, [color=indianred]"Thanks ya much."[/color] He reminded himself that this was 1943and that they were in semi-rural Louisiana, of all places. [color=indianred]"Now, don't you go around tellin' folks we was talkin' all alone-like. Get a brotha strung up a muthafuckin' tree... But hey, how long you been here, an' what can you tell me 'bout what's goin' on?"[/color]  

	Considering the utter confusion and meeting of old friends, James could go for something along the lines of a nice, flammable nerve tonic. [color=indianred]"Come to think on it, I could really use some o' the Captain's sippin' mash. We got anything like that 'round here?"[/color] Maybe not the most appropriate thing this early, but to James's credit, he'd very recently been dead. Circumstances were a little extenuating. [color=indianred]"Maybe we can talk over a drink, hmm?"[/color]