[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=sienna]Gilbert Summers, "The Hat"[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/cf4e97ef-6c87-4737-a712-e978140cb06a.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=sienna]Location:[/color][/b] Ville au Camp - Main House (Sitting Room) 
[b][color=sienna]Skills:[/color][/b] Alter Form [hr][/center]

	A variety of reactions greeted the elder Emendator, from humor to surprise to seeming apathy. It was a relief, having the generally expected range of emotions present themselves. Even shock or wide-eyed terror might have been acceptable, so long as it didn't turn to violence. That had happened before, more than once. Sometimes the human psyche refused to accept what it was being bombarded with and responded with more a primitive instinct designed around survival. He didn't blame these people when they did, either. Nobody asked for this. And they were given a lot to swallow all at once. 

	[color=sienna]"It's not like I do this all the time, either."[/color] he stated, again in a voice slightly altered by his new jaw and nasal structure, not to mention a trace of Scandinavian accent. Leaning forward in his seat, Gilbert's features rippled again as the new form smoothed and bulged away, reverting the tall man back to the original visage of The Hat. [color=sienna]"This is the face I wore first, a long time ago. I have been a lot of different people over the millennia. A [i]lot[/i]. Some for decades at a time. I'll tell you though, I always liked this one best, even if some of the others were prettier."[/color] He flashed a big, disarming grin, continuing with, [color=sienna]"You just can't beat a classic, right?"[/color] 

	Gilbert cleared his throat and adopted a more serious expression. [color=sienna]"Miss Lucas is correct. Now is an excellent time to tour the house and grounds. I think the house will become the most familiar to you first. Most of you will be spending the brunt of your time in here, if the habits of prior Paradoxes are any indication. Anyway: house. I'll give you the nickel tour and then we can move on to the grounds. You all take a moment to process. When you're ready, I will be just outside."[/color] 

	He stood, made a token attempt to smooth his shirt, and set his fedora back onto his dignified head, and made for the door. Just before he exited, he left the group with a parting thought: [color=sienna]"I don't know what abilities you have been gifted with, but I'll tell you - some of them make what I just did look like a parlor trick."[/color] He tipped his hat to the group and walked out, taking the door opposite the one from which they had all entered, leading to the front porch. 




[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=indianred]James Grady[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://image.ibb.co/i56LZR/Blackjames.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=indianred]Location:[/color][/b] Ville au Camp - Main House (Sitting Room) 
[b][color=indianred]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	This was a LOT to press into his brain all at once. I mean, it was a good piece of news that the perils of getting older would no longer be an issue, seeing as he was into his forties already and, while still able to do most of the things he could twenty years ago, well... He paid for it. And for a longer time, too. It would have been nice to have just a [i]few[/i] years of hardship shaved off of his physical body, really, and he guessed that beggars couldn't be choosers. Also, the promise of superpowers was pretty cool, too. Or it would be, except for one concept that hung around his neck like a stone: 

	A world that has superheroes, by its very nature, is a world that desperately [i]needs[/i] superheroes. 

	What the hell did he just fall into? No, no... The devil you know was starting to sound a hell of a lot better right now, even if the devil that James knew was a world ravaged by an uprising of the Dead. He had people he cared about there. He had a purpose. Hell, prior to his untimely death, he was on his way to make sure that his loved ones would be safe. It involved killing a lot of people, granted, but it was a very [i]noble[/i] example of killing a lot of people. The were massive, massive asshats anyway. The kind that deserved to be executed by the rectal application of a cheese grater. Not that he wanted to be the guy nicking off parts of ass interior with a manual kitchen implement, mind you. He would have been equally satisfied to use a firearm or his woodaxe. 

	Basically, James was living the embodiment of "Too Much, Too Fast". When Gilbert left the room, he spoke up. [color=indianred]"Yeah, look... I don't know 'bout y'all, but I'm givin' some serious thought at throwin' up right now. I could use one of them recesses that Dice Lady was talkin' 'bout, an' I'm hopeful they got a good hard drink to settle some nerves, ya get me?"[/color] 

	Nonetheless, he stood. A little shaky at first, but over the next seconds he became more sure of the next steps he would take. Looking at Sophia, he extended a hand to help her up if needed. [color=indianred]"Hot [i]dayum[/i], this one wacky game show. Let's get this done, huh?"[/color]