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Sophia looked towards Bart for a moment seeing him going into some kind of trance, she then looked over towards Alicia as well still using her ability on him it looks like. A few seconds later he came out of it and saw him kneeling over and started to vomit, she wondered what it was exactly that he had seen. Sophia knelt down and gently rested her hand on his shoulder in a comforting way. "You okay?" Sophia asked him as she looked at the others. They all seemed to be ready to get some drinks, she helped him back up to his feet, before making her way over towards the kitchen house once more.

She made her way over to grab a few clean glasses that were there, as Alicia went towards a cabinet to grab some mason jars, Alicia started open one of them. The moment she did Sophia's ability started to rear it's head back in, and she was instantly bombarded with the smell from the alcohol. Sophia instantly reeled back and started to cough uncontrollably as she leaned herself up against the sink, her eyes watering. She closed her eyes as she willed herself to just man through it all, as she looked over towards Alicia after she had said that it was strong.

"You weren't kidding that smell is damn strong." Sophia said letting out the occasional cough as she whipped away a few tears, the good thing is that she wasn't passing out like last time. She wasn't sure that she'd like to have that drink a the moment, her stomach was feeling a bit uncomfortable again.

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The nod from Evelina was accepted, as was the whisper of gratitude for carrying Peter's body back and into his room. Gilbert had seen death in his lifetime, possibly far more than any other creature that had ever walked the Earth. It was equally possible that he had caused far more death, at least on a personal level, than any other creature that had walked the Earth. Not counting people that had ordered massacres and genocides, mind you. Such people were useful only as examples of the worst humanity had to offer. Gilbert was a warrior, not a monster. And even now, he was more of a historian or a trainer than that, anymore. Still, it was very hard to erase unfathomed millennia of killing, be it for duty, honor, defense, or glory. Soldier, not killer. Most of the time.

"You are welcome." he said simply, in polite response to Evie. He hadn't much in the way of Peter's blood on him, so it was a quick matter of using a pocket handkerchief to wipe the crimson from his skin in places, after which he pulled his slightly wrinkled shirt from the back of his belt, along with his vest, and tossed them back on. It was only then that he paid attention to the presence of the new Paradox. "Miss Aldrich." he intoned, giving a respectful tip of his hat to her. "It's a lot at once. More than most. You are in good hands." It was at this moment that he took a look into the more recent history of the past few minutes of the Destrehan Plantation grounds. George had help. More than enough offered, from the looks of things. He could, and probably should, return to his little tour group. Andromeda had an Emendator giving her personalized attention. The most he could do was offer a snatch of polite conversation before returning to his fledgling Paradoxes. A slight bow to her, and Gilbert was off, walking back to the Kitchen House to see what had become of the new people stumbling over their new powers.

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Sarcasm and vomit. Hell, James could have stayed in zombie-infested, post-apocalyptic Georgia for that. Sarcasm, vomit, transparent girl (ok, now THAT was an acceptable superhero name), and he was a big, tusky pig. It was enough to make him want to cry. Or vomit. Or say something sarcastic. Going glassy wasn't an option for him, though. You see, as previously mentioned, he turned into a pig. It wasn't that bad, really. The process would take a lot of getting used to, that was for sure.

But someone had mentioned a drink. That someone was him a while ago, but someone else did very recently, and that lady was busy walking into the Kitchen House, presumably for the purpose of acquiring said beverages. Now that was something that he could get into. Walking up behind Alicia, and upon noting with satisfaction that he was plodding behind her in work boots and not muddy hooves, James gave her the space that she required to sashay, saunter, or otherwise move freely and act like a boss with the other Paradoxes until he could get at whatever flammable, intoxicating liquid this place had readily available. When she pulled out the mason jars of clear liquid and set one down in front of him, James was in awe. Slowly, and with slightly trembling hand, the solid blackneck reverently lifted the jar to eye level, getting the best possible look at this wonderful, wonderful miracle. "Naw, girl..." he started, voice barely above a whisper, "Naw, that's just... Wait." More strength came into his voice as he mentally put a couple of things together.

The jar said "Holloway", not "Holloway & Sons". Further, James had only ever seen this particular spirit in a bottle, not a jar. And he'd only ever seen it from one source. Then it hit him - this was 1943, not the new millennium. Ash's father wasn't in charge of the distillery, this would be his grandfather. And by Distillery, James meant "Operation". There was still good money in tax-free liquor, and Prohibition had given a lot of people the taste for, as his good friend put it, "Homestyle Appalachian Sippin' Whiskey". Though the family had gone legitimate in the more recent decades of his alotted lifespan, in the 1940s it was still technically a criminal enterprise. An open secret, in the truest sense of the word. The Captain had nothing to do with this booze, oh no. This was his daddy's daddy. And the tradition went back farther than that.

A smile crept upon James's face that broadened into a full, toothy grin. He took in the aroma of pungent, mountain spirits, letting it linger for a while. While others were taken aback by the dulcet notes of fine moonshine, James welcomed it. This represented one of the few things that was good about the Apocalypse: The friends he made among the survivors, people he otherwise wouldn't have had anything to do with were the world to plod along as usual. He first sampled this spirit with a man who had held a gun on him, a man who had become his friend and ally, whose people became his people. The man whose name was emblazoned across the front of the bottle, and could work alcoholic goddamned magic with a late peach harvest.

James heard Alicia's warning about the booze, but waved it off. He brought the jar up to his big, friendly smile, and too a gulp. Time FROZE. Two or three seconds passed as he stood there, eyes wide and transfixed on something in the distance, despite the fact that they were behind walls. The smile remained, but there seemed to be pain behind it now, and a certain "begging for release" vibe in his eyes. His head tilted a few degrees to one side, only slightly, and then James calmly set the jar back down. "Ooh. Aw damn..." he exhaled quietly, slowly leaning forward as if to take pressure off of his stomach as the truly inspiring liquid hit home, exploding as warmth within his gut. It was definitely made by the same family. Notes of specific flavor and a telltale finish proved that to him. This was Holloway stock. It was just a little less people-friendly than the unoaked Virginian whiskey that he had grown accustomed to. Younger. Bolder. Possibly designed with weaponization in mind. It wasn't any stronger, persay, but like his newfound power, he was going to have to grow accustomed to it.

"Damn, but that'll take the wrinkles out y'sack. Mmmm. Thank you, little lady!" James's voice gained strength and clarity as he spoke. "It ain't The Man's, but damn if it don't do what it's supposed to!" He turned around, looking for whomever was around, "Hey! Y'all need to get in on this. Don't know what you missin'." He decided to take Alicia's advice on the matter this time, and brought the jar up to his lips again. This time, he started slow.

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Faith wasn't quite sure what was happening. The young, blonde kid was talkative and Alicia chewed him out, the next both were quiet and in some sort of trance. Before she knew it, the kid barfed all over the ground. Given her limited knowledge on all of this, but her quick assumptions on most things, she figured Alicia used whatever powers she had to make the kid do so.

And that was fricken' hilarious.

Faith started chuckling and before she knew it, the color came back to her....everything! IT was like liquid pouring into her, filling up her form. Soon, her whole body was back to normal. It seemed the others were right. Emotions played a role. Did that mean she had to get pissed off in order to be glass? That seemed useless and dangerous considering the lot she would be sharing a house with.

But someone mentioned drinks and she could forget about that for a bit. It was a while since she had alcohol. In the apocalypse, people rarely made alcohol a priority. She followed those inside as they went for some bottle that made both Alicia and...the other dude react. "Poor me a cup of that then. I could stand to be wow'd"

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"I specifically avoided counting you, Nancy dear. Any help you could provide is canceled out by the inevitable mess you'd cause," Gio teased Nancy in return. Honestly he was just expecting Nancy to stand back and watch him and George dig that grave by themselves. He knew she wasn't totally averse to physical labor, but she definitely preferred to leave heavy lifting to others. Even with her insistence that she'd help, he wasn't confident in her ability to focus on the single monotonous, boring task of digging up a grave. But knowing her, she'd probably demand to help, even if she was only going to get bored and stop after the first 5 minutes.

When George got nailed by the pie, Gio could stop himself from laughing at the prankee outright, but what he wasn't able to halt was an ear-to-ear smile at his misfortune. Instead, he covered his mouth with his hand, despite the fact that anyone there would be able to see the smile in his eyes and the laughter in his voice. That was a perfectly executed prank, and even if Alicia was an unwelcome participant in the prank war, he could still appreciate when a practical joke like that was pulled off flawlessly.

"I don't believe that was Nancy, and I didn't set that up. We had been preoccupied with much a larger scale project." Normally, he'd provide George something to clean off the pie, if only to assuage his own desire to see the mess cleaned up. But seeing as he had his hankerchief in his jacket pocket, and that was folded up dozens of meters away, the Paradox would just have to deal with the foodstuff caked to his face for the time being. Gio stepped around George to get into the Mill House proper. Now the issue was, where did they leave the damnable shovels again? Was it in the corner, or against the Eastern Wall? He couldn't remember.

"Nancy, George," he called as he turned back towards his two compatriots, "do either of you remember where we keep the shovels in here?

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Alexandra was walking towards the formerly blonde, but now invisible, chick when she was distracted by something else yet again. Man, this was really becoming a habit of hers. Maybe she should be concerned that she was becoming more of a ditz than usual. Eh, maybe later. She slowed down to a stop as her brown eyed gaze turned at the sound of Alicia chewing out some poor unfortunate soul. Her gaze followed the more experienced Paradox's gaze to take in the woman's victim of choice, the blonde boy Bart from Cal-i-forn-ia. Her gaze then went back to Alicia in time to see an odd haze come over the woman. Her brows furrowed slightly in confusion before her gaze went back to Bart to find that he was also the same way. As if things weren't complicated enough! What the hell was going on now?!

"Uhhhh..." she stated, her gaze going back and forth between Alicia and Bart. And just as quickly as it had seemed to come over them, they suddenly snapped out of their trancelike state. It was promptly punctuated by Bart vomiting all over himself. Alexandra's nose wrinkled up slightly in disgust, but she walked over to him nonetheless. "Vhat happened to you tvo?" she asked, glancing back at Alicia before returning her gaze to Bart. She stopped a few feet away from him, seeing as Sophia was already quickly tending to the boy.

She snorted slightly at Bart's comment about wanting a drink. "Da, that sounds like a great idea if you vish to vomit again," she commented sarcastically. She gave him a lopsided grin, in perhaps a hopeful attempt at making sure her sarcasm wasn't construed in a negative light this time around.

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Bart scrunched his eyes together when Sophia asked if he was okay. What kind of question even was that? She was well aware what he'd been through, what they'd all been through. She didn't see what he just saw, but this whole thing was fucked to all hell. His eyes welled up for a second, but he pushed it back. He had to be stronger than that. Bartholomew swallowed hard, and said, "Not now, but I will be." He settled on answering. He got himself up on his feet, and looked towards the Kitchen House. He shook his head at Alexandra, "You seriously don't wanna know." He said, gagging a bit, the taste of vomit still in his mouth.

He chuckled a bit at her last comment, and said ,"I promise, it'll help more than anything after what I just saw." He said, trying to sound lighthearted, but coming through hollow. He forced a smile at her, and hobbled towards the Kitchen House. He shook his head, slinking inside, and seeing Alicia holding a jar of white liquid...? He didn't really know if he should trust any kind of booze coming out of a jar of all things. That would be a step for him, but James quickly encouraged all of them to give it a shot. He sounded enthusiastic, but judging by what the sound of his voice, it was some strong stuff. Alcohol wasn't something he partook in often, but when he did, he went for hard liquor, since if he's drinking, it's pretty much always to get drunk.

Bart went to the table, and grabbed for one of the jars, opting to pour a bit into one of the smaller jars instead of drinking straight from a jar like James. He brought it up to his lips slowly, and recoiled at the smell. Sharp, strong, and reeking of alcohol. He briefly reconsidered this course of action, but steadied himself, and slowly brought the drink to his lips. Bartholomew shuddered, choking a mouthful down, the drink burning all the way to his stomach. He coughed, then gritted his teeth, and breathed deep, continuing to nurse the drink, giving himself something to focus on.

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Emotions were too much, all running together at this point. Alicia was lucky, more than some. She had been a Paradox for a bit now and had had at least some training. She could manage not to shut off her Empathy but scale it back to where it wasn't in the forefront of her mind. She had to right then. There was just too much running around in her heart right then. Even on the best of days it was hard to be so empathetic. A couple of people and good emotions were a lot to handle. All these new people, going through what she went through on her first day, and on top of that Peter being brought back the way he was. She had been hard pressed not to shut down already but she had managed to keep open. Yet now, that was enough. At least for a bit.

Looking over at Sophia she nodded. "Yeah, even without your ability it is some strong shit to deal with. Don't want to know how bad it is when you have a nose better than a fucking blood hound now," she said as she sat there. Pouring herself a drink into a glass she braced herself and took a drink. It was harsh. Moonshine couldn't not be harsh. It was just ~brewed~ that way. Well not brewed, oh hell, like she knew the process for making the shit. She didn't. An ex of hers in a life that felt like a dream most days did. She was never one even then to go toying around with the distillation building. Always smelt too much like rotting tortillas for her liking.

James was helping himself so Alicia poured for anyone else that wanted one and slid the glasses, well mason jars over to them, with a look of warning in her eyes. Not so much a don't do that thing but a be careful thing. Looking over at James she nodded. "Yeah, don't know the full story of how we got this but hey, was slightly nostalgic when I first saw the bottles. Granted, it is fucking odd speaking about someone that isn't alive right now but is. Shit I guess that is everyone outside of here isn't it?" she said before shrugging to herself and taking another drink. She hissed a bit and kicked at the ground. "Why do I think Papi would have loved this shit?" she laughed slash coughed as she looked over at James.

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Evelina nodded towards Gilbert before he left. She looked back at the door and turned the knob, opening it slowly and stepping it. Half shutting it behind her she slowly moved over to the bed where Peter had been laid out. She left it partially open in case that Andromeda decided to join her but closed it just enough to where Peters body wouldn't be in full view of anyone that passed by. She wasn't going to press for help in this matter. It wasn't that she didn't want some, it wasn't that she did. It was up to the new Paradox to what she did with her time currently.

Looking down at Peter her lips thinned slightly. This was never easy but she made sure to handle each Paradoxes death if she could. Part of it was a respect thing, for them choosing to live this life when they could have chosen something else. Though most of it was because as each Paradox was created she found herself feeling like a mother in a way to them. In a way she birthed them, she brought them into this world. She was the mother that breathed life into them, Gio was the father that bought them home. Gilbert was the fun uncle and Nancy was the strange aunt. They were one really damn odd family that made the Crypt line perfectly normal in many ways.

Unbuttoning her sleeves she rolled them up and stepped over to the dresser where there was a pitcher of water, a bowl, and same rags. Each room had this for morning clean up. Now it would be used to wash the body. She would fetch a needle and thread later to sew up as much skin as she could but for now, the layer of blood and sand was enough to deal with. "Death is hard enough but this is why you never go back, those that mourned you once will now have to mourn you again Peter," she said as she dipped a cloth into the water and rung it out. She spoke as if he could still hear her, as if she could still teach him a lesson. Though odd it was not an uncommon trait among those that tended to the dead. Many a mortician spoke to the bodies that passed into their lives.

George, while covered in oatmeal, was having a better time of things that Evelina was. Oatmeal was far easier to clean up than blood. Pointing over to the back of the mill he nodded to Gio. "Mmm, over there," he said before turning away and placing his back to Gio. Only two people within their home of a loop had seen him without his mask. Peter was one and now he would see it no more. Nancy was the other. Sure the Emendators could look through time and see it but he hadn't been comfortable enough in front of the other to remove his mask himself in front of them.

Walking over to the water bucket Gilbert had in there for cleaning he made sure to keep his back to everything and everyone he could as he pulled his mask off. Beneath it lay what remained of his face. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket he began to clean his face and his mask up. "Mmm, breakfast," he said, trying to crack a a joke as he got rid of the thick substance. At least she hadn't put dye in it this time. Last time he had run into one of Alicias pranks it had been a meringue pie that hit him in the bathroom when he turned the shower water off. It had stained him pink for three days.

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Nancy smirked a bit at Gio's observation. It was one way to get out of doing chores when you had been alive for centuries. And had it not suited her purposes, she might have protested that she didn't make messes - she just didn't feel like adhering to anything vaguely resembling order or structure. She didn't even move to the beat of her own drum - she defied any sense of pattern or order. For someone who could see patterns in the cards and predict the future, she adored the antithesis of that - she was in love with random and chaotic chance.

And while Giouse held back some of his laughter, Nancy laughed without restraint. "Unfortunately, I can't take credit for that one," she said with a bit of a wistful sigh, agreeing with Gio's sentiment. She then gestured at the now slightly bloodstained prisoner uniform that she was dressed in. "And no idea, Gio. You know organization is my Achilles heel," Nancy commented, still grinning a bit. It was a good thing that George knew where to find them. Nancy herself would have just walked through and by the time she found whatever she was looking for, it'd look like a small tornado had hit the mill.

She snickered some at his joke. "It has all the major food groups in it," she mused. She figured that if he needed help cleaning up, he'd ask. "If there's any Paradoxes we don't like, we could actually serve that to them for breakfast..."

Meanwhile, back with Evelina, Andromeda thought over Evelina's explanation for a moment. She had assumed that whatever caused them to remain in the loop had to do something with their spirits - whatever those possibly could be. In her timeline, it was pretty much accepted by those aware of the supernatural that everyone had a soul. "So it's something fundamentally different about the physical form that allows the body - or us - to remain in the loop, rather than something intangible like a soul?" Andromeda asked. She realized it could be seen as insensitive, but her mind was a bit of a death trap at times. She had a rather curious nature to her - one that probably helped lead to her death.

"Thank you," Andromeda said, giving Gilbert a nod as he left. She was still considering the answer to Evelina's question. She had studied history and there were so many time periods that she enjoyed studying, yet there were some that intrigued her more than others. Who couldn't appreciate the earliest civilizations, beginning so humbly and eventually spanning regions that she could not imagine? Or perhaps the medieval courts and battles? Or the conflict of brother on brother in numerous civil wars?

It wasn't until they had made their way to Peter's room, and Andromeda elected to answer as well, that she finally had decided an answer to Evelina's question. "The 1920's to 1930's," Andromeda said, keeping her voice low out of respect. "There always seemed to be so much to that time that people would overlook...Yes, there's prohibition and the stock market crash, the rise of the Nazi party and the beginnings of war...But it also has its fair share of peculiarities, little quirks that you'd miss if you weren't careful...I remember one of my college professors mentioning that Al Capone opened a soup kitchen in this period - it's the little oddities that fascinate me..."

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Sophia looked at James as he got himself a glass, she was tempted on taking a glass herself but she could smell it all over and was a tad bit overwhelming for her. Her eyes then met Alicia's and gave her a slight nod and smile. "Trust me, the smell is all around for me I could probably track someone down miles away now probably." Sophia said as she leaned back in the chair, looking down at her wooden hand, and then over at her wedding ring as well. Sophia reached over for a jar herself and started to pour a glass, wincing slightly at the scent, but she decided to get a drink anyway she really did need one.

Sophia then took a sip from it, not a big gulp like James had done, she winced visibly and shook her head as her eyes watered from taking the sip. It was all still a little bit overwhelming for her, being technically dead now, before looking over at Alicia again. "So are we still able to get drunk off of this?" She asked, Sophia looked over at the others she was curious about them since they all would end up having to get to know one another better now since they would all be living under the same roof.

"Since we are all going to be here for awhile, maybe a drinking game or something to get to know each other a little bit more?" Sophia suggested, she didn't know where the other Emendators were currently, they were most likely all right now tending to whatever happened that she could smell before she got way to overwhelmed and passed out

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Faith took the mason jar slid over to her. She wasn't about to admit it to anyone that this was her first actual drink. She was 18 around the time the apocalypse started and, since then, she had to remain dry for her own safety. Alcohol wasn't in huge demand when it came to supplies, though she had seen her fair share of them. She also wasn't that high school kid that drank alcohol before they were 21. She was too busy cheerleading, campaigning, and generally ruling the school to bother with alcohol.

She sniffed it at first and could tell already how powerful it was going to be. Still, she was no loser. She took a hearty sip. "Whoo!" She let out a startled scream without meaning to. It was strong! It was good though! She took another sip and let it burn down her throat. She could see the excitement now! "This shit is good!"

Faith fought an eye roll as Sensory Overload Barbie suggested a drinking game. But, it might be fun. And that meant she would drink more. Wait, could they get drunk? They were dead, weren't they? They couldn't get periods or pregnant, but they still needed to eat. How the fuck did this topsy-tury world work?!? Rather than question it, she sat down and leaned back in the chair, "Fuck it, I'm down."

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The conversations abounded around the table in the Kitchen House, but James was really only hearing bits and pieces of it. He regarded the alcohol in his hands. It was very much like the distillation he drank with its creator, seemingly just a short time ago. Days, really. And the night prior, he had a particularly wonderful (if a little young) batch of hefty and stout sweet potato beer. Or something like beer. Well, it didn't matter so much what it would have been called, it wouldn't really exist, such as it was, for several decades to come. His booze was familiar, but it was not exact. Such was his continued existence. It was quite like that to which he was accustomed, but it simply was not it. Damn, it was welcome, though.

He almost didn't catch it when Alicia posed a question to him. He stared blankly for a second at her until the words made sense in his brain, then shook his head a little. "Sorry there, girl. Head took me somewheres else fo' a sec..." He allowed himself a small sip, significantly smaller than the first one he gulped at the outset of the jar opening. It was still enough for him to cut an awkward face and snap his fingers until the burn in his gullet went away. He exhaled a little, ending with a suspicious, "...gah... Smooth." It was a hell of a thing, Moonshine. There was good flavor present, but only if you could somehow drag your senses past the medicinal grade kick of alcohol. "Your old man... damn but I missed him. Yeah, that sumbitch'd be all over this. All over this. Hey, maybe I didn't meet Caesar in that other timeline, the one you from, right? We ever head thataway, maybe I can introduce him to it an' ask him." James wasn't 100% on how this whole thing worked; he was given the briefest of rundowns on the situation of being a Paradox by the Dice Lady earlier. But if the Walkers hadn't overrun the planet in that timeline, getting hold of some Holloway & Sons would be a possibility. "Yeah, your Papi'd be up for this. Maybe he'd've even given Cap'n Ash less shit for seein' you if he started out the talk with some of this, huh?"

It was about this time that James noticed the light from the doorway was blocked by the silhouette of a tall, muscular man wearing a lightly distressed fedora. He wasn't sure if drinking in the middle of what was supposed to be a tour was a great idea, but he was far too old now to try to cover it up with his shirt and insist that he take a field sobriety test instead of the breathalyzer. Instead, he raised his mason jar to the man and casually turned back to Alicia, hoping that were this an actionable offense, he'd get some kind of warning rather than the alternative.

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Gilbert had made the decision to get back to the two Paradoxes that he was supposed to be showing around the grounds. There was little else he could do until the hole was dug and Peter's body was made ready for interment. Perhaps continuing the tour wasn't the greatest idea right at that moment, anyway. There was nothing like bringing a slashed-up corpse into an area with confused and shaky people who had just been brought back from the dead to find themselves in a different time and place to throw one off of one's plans for the day. So maybe this would have to be postponed for a little bit. At least until Peter was buried and respect had been paid.

It did look a little odd to see that most everyone else had crowded back into the Kitchen House. Gilbert was fond of that place, insomuch as he was fond of any place that had the basic creature comforts of food and warmth, good solid chairs to sit upon and broad tables to load down with yummy things. He liked it almost as much as his workshop, or the armory. But here he was now, along with his two charges for the next bit of time.

As he stood in the doorway, he noticed the slightly nervous expression given by James. He and Alicia weren't out doing their little tour, either. So there they all were, lounging in the Kitchen House and drinking mountain made whiskey. Gilbert sighed and shook his head, then walked over to the jars on the table. He picked one up and examined it as one might an old book or an unusual bi of antiquity. "A drinking game? I never required a game to dull my senses and bring about projectile vomiting. I will caution moderation. If you abandon sobriety entirely, they might not appreciate what comes after." He walked to the cupboard, secured for himself a smallish coffee mug, and poured a dram or two for himself. "Enjoy, but do not abuse, what we have to offer."

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Gio didn't know what it was with George, but there was just something about him that seemed to drain away any joviality a situation contained. He had read about phenomena known as black holes, the remains of dead stars bundled so tightly together that they drew everything into their center never to be seen again. Even light was not able to escape its grasp. George was kind of like that, but for positive emotions. Even when he tried to make a joke, it somehow brought the mood down. How Nancy was able to act her usual chipper self around him, he would never know.

Leaving the Fun Sponge to clean up, Gio traversed the mill, carefully stepping over any low obstacles that may have presented themselves and walking around those that were too large to do so. They certainly didn't utilize the building very often, it was in dire need of serious organization, but he knew that even in a time loop, there were so many things that needed doing, that something as low on the priority list as a bit of Spring Cleaning (actual season notwithstanding) would never get done, even if it would do everyone some good.

Actually, perhaps he should have the new Paradoxes handle it. They were all very unused to the situation they found themselves in. Perhaps having them do something as mundane as cleaning the place up would better acclimate them to their current circumstances. And it would help them start working as a team, rather than thinking of themselves as alone in a batch of strangers. He'd have to remember to bring this up later, without the idea being buried behind all the other things that needed doing within the next few hours.

Gio grabbed 3 shovels and made his back back to the entrance. He still wasn't entirely convinced that she wouldn't just get bored and/or tired after a few minutes and actually help as she claimed that she would, but he would give her the benefit of the doubt. Speaking of which, he handed one to his fellow emendator before starting to leave the mill.

"I'll find a suitable burial place. You can catch up once you finish with your business," he told George, looking at him out of the corner of his eye. The Watch left the third shovel nearby so that it could be grabbed once he was done getting clean. No need to stand around and wait for him to finish washing up. George was a big boy who could figure out where Gio had gone. It was just far more efficient to go about things this way.

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"Oooooh a mystery, nov I vant to knov even more," Alexandra stated in response to Bart's poor attempt at dissuading her curiosity. She wasn't so easily deterred. She practically bounced after him on her still bare feet into the Kitchen House. She was a picture of bliss, or maybe it was insanity. Whichever. It was really open to individual interpretation. Her dark brown eyes took in the group congregating inside around the containers of strong alcohol. It wasn't much unlike home really. She quickly brushed aside the emotions that that notion stirred up within her. Now was not the time for melancholy. Now was the time to drink!

She reached over and picked up one of the mason jars of white liquid that Alicia slid over. All the while, she kept Bart in her peripheral view, gauging his reaction to the strong liquor. Why? Because it was amusing, obviously. She turned back to face him fully and smirked at his reaction. "I bet I could out drink you. I could probably out drink you all," she jabbed with a note of cockiness. "After all, I'm tougher, stronger, more Russian!" And with that she took a sip of the mysterious substance.

Though she had had strong liquor before, she admittedly wasn't quite prepared for the punch that this one packed. "GAH!" she sputtered. She coughed and covered her mouth with her free hand as the liquid burned its way down her throat. Damn. "Я не достоин. Я не достоин," she muttered in Russian under her breath. She gave Bart a weak grin as she coughed a few more times. She then squared her shoulders, bracing herself for the next sip. Maybe it would be easier the second go around, she thought as she took another swig. Nope. Nope. Not at all. She let out a small hiss between her gritted teeth, shaking her head.

Right about then, the giant man, aka The Hat, aka Gilbert, chose to make his reappearance. "G-giant--man--y-ou're back," she exclaimed between poorly concealed coughs.

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He pursed his lips, the moonshine burning still as he exhaled at Alexandra's apparent attempt to tease him. He scoffed when she gagged from the alcohol. "Now I see why we won the Cold War. Not quite as tough as us Americans, eh?" He smirked playfully, before realizing she would have no idea what that was. He gave a glance around the group, as he smiled. They seemed to be a bit of a motley crew, but he could see himself at least getting used to these people, if not becoming friends with them. In time, he thought, however weird things may be now, this too would pass, and become a new normal. This thought, in a way, was a bit of comfort that Bart latched onto, the promise of a happiness latter on. It was bittersweet, but it was something.

Bart, who's drink was close to half empty at this point, gave a small laugh and shook his head, as a drinking game was suggested."I don't know if I'm ready for that quite yet." He said. He had two reasons for his denial; one, he knew somebody was dead, so the Emendators had enough on their plate without dealing with a bunch of drunken idiots, two, he was lightweight as fuck. He was relieved, therefor, when the Giant's voice came out from behind him. He turned to face him, as he chided them for the idea. He didn't like the idea of being spoken to like a child, but he put those feelings aside for the moment, given whatever grief he might be feeling.

Bart raised a careful eyebrow, "So, on that subject, what exactly do you have to offer?" He was curious about the exact amenities of where he'd be living. That, and the fact that it was yet another distraction to push him away from the endless carnival ride of insanity and depression that this life seemed intent on thrusting him along. He was quivering a bit, still shaken from what Alicia showed him. He took another sip of his drink, the burn kissing his lips, and cascading all the way down into his stomach. He took a breath, steadying himself, clinging on still.

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While the rest of the people in Ville au Camp were tending to this and that, drinking or dealing with dead people or both, George on the other hand was still cleaning up the oatmeal from his face. The gaping hole one one side made it impossible to see anything but the damage but the other side, cracked into a small smile at the suggestion from Nancy. "Mmm, obvious. Too obvious. Use the water to make their tea, mmm, and the oatmeal to make cookies. Mmm, Alicia will eat anything," he said as he picked out some of the oatmeal from the nose area of the mask.

Alicia would pretty much eat anything, it was a reflex considering her fathers abilities in the kitchen. She vaguely remembered something about spicy ice cream enchiladas not too long before she died. Granted she also remembered a bottle of tequila, some fuzzy bunny slippers, happy face boxers, and an exploding front door. Her dad sure as hell knew how to make an entrance yet looking back now on that day, more importantly that morning something dawned on her for the first time since her arrival. That morning she had awoken from a dream, one where she had been killed and eaten by zombies in. She had dreamed of her other life. "Dios mio..." That was a hell of a shit storm memory to come to the front and she found herself downing the rest of the glass and nearly choking on it but refusing to stop until every drop in her cup was gone.

Gasping slightly she wiped her mouth with the back of her arm and nodded towards James. "Shit, should have seen the man then. He was far more ...." she began before stopping and searching for the words, "Scary." It was a single word but one she knew would get the point across. Sure her father was intimidating in Newnan but over in Justice, he was still working actively. That mans legend was still growing even now in some timelines of the Earth. "Though doubt he would have given him less shit but makes me wonder, just what the fuck is going to do when he see the father of my boy, poor Keystone," she said with a hint of concern in her voice before starting to crack up at the thought. It was both terrifying and hilarious at the same time.

"Oh yeah, drunk comes," Alicia said, snickering between thoughts. Then the suggestion came, a drinking game? That could be interesting and it seemed at least one was up for it.It was about at that time Gilbert came in and Alicia started pouring herself round two. She heard him but she really wasn't listening much. The though of big ass Keystone being informed he was a father by Caesar was just too fucking funny to her. "What, afraid we might learn it was you that caused the war of 1812?" Alicia taunted before looking over at Sophia and leaning back in her chair with her newly poured cup. "Shit, I'll start. If you've ever lived in a time line before 1900 take a drink," she said still chortling slightly and eying Gilbert in the process.

Would have been interesting to see George play the game Alicia thought, he really didn't speak about anything before he arrived in the land of the forgotten as Alicia called the place from time to time. And right then he wasn't thinking about anything but oatmeal and burial. It was an interesting combination. Gio said he'd find a place and George nodded as he flicked another piece of oatmeal off his mask. He was nearly done cleaning it up. Peter would be buried down by the water. Everyone that had been in Ville Au Camp knew that Peter loved the large oak tree down by the waters edge, he would sit there for hours reading books on architecture and math as the Spanish moss moved back and forth in the wind. "Mmm, all good," he finally said a few minutes later before putting his mask back on and picking up one of the shovels left behind for them. Picking up his coat to bring with them he started out of the mill and went off to catch up with Gio.

Hearing Alexandra cough made Alicia perk a brow and smirk. "Oh yeah, good shit," she said before looking over at Bart. Seemed he had questions. Wasn't surprising. "We have a continental breakfast, maid service, afternoon tea under the trees, and cricket to play afterwards. Might want to check with the events coordinator later to see what is happening on the Ledo deck," she said in all seriousness before cracking up. It was nice to have her empathy shut mostly down right then, made her feel much lighter. So did the booze.

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It was an interesting question and one that Evelina herself had pondered once long ago. "That is a perplexing question and one that I unfortunately do not have an answer for at this time. I doubt that I may ever be privy to such information. You see, despite our abilities and long lives, how much of them come to be and how we live is still one of those things that are a mystery to even us. Just as we do not know what lays beyond death if anything, if there is a god, and more. There is much in this universe that even a life as long as humanity itself you cannot learn the answer to, some things we are just forced to accept as because the universe said so." Evelina spoke as she began to undress and clean the body of the Paradox known as Peter, it did not bother, or at least didn't seem to irk her that Andromeda had asked the question. Curiosity was like death, it was just part of life.

Turning her head slightly she looked over to Andromeda and held her breath for a moment before continuing. "Yet, physically I do not believe so, others will come into the loop today and leave without issue. I have had a non paradox remain in a loop before." It was an interesting little tid bit of information but it really did not answer the question yet it seemed to be about as good as one could hope.

The Dices attention was back on Peter for while cleaning could be done by touch while she spoke, placing flesh back together to be sewn took more attention. Yet she did say one more thing before picking up a needle and thread. "Al Capone, interesting man. The man which brought our Peter back to us, George, knew him personally. If you would like to know more about Al, perhaps you could speak with George," she suggested.

Looking over at Andromeda she motioned towards Peters body. "Would it be too much to ask for you to hold his wounds together while I stitch up his form? I do wish to make this as neat as possible," she asked and explained the reasoning behind. It was one of the reasons she wanted Andromeda to join her. She felt the woman could handle the situation considering the life she had just come from.

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Sophia looked towards Alexandra when she took a drink from the Moonshine and couldn't help but smirk at her reaction, it was her first time having it. She did sample Moonshine once when she was younger before the outbreak started it was the legal kind, but she remembered that it was very strong. She frowned slightly when Bart declined to take part in the drinking game that she had suggested, but it was also his choice anyway to not drink as well. Faith seemed to want to join in on the game as well, which was good in her opinion she just wanted to get to know everyone a little bit more. It seemed that Black James and Alicia were talking about someone that she didn't really know, but she assumed that it was someone before her time in Newnan.

She then heard the door opening, and turned her head when she saw The Hat coming into the kitchen house, she gave the man a friendly smile and wave, the Emendator seemed to be friendly so far at least as far as she could tell. Then Sophia did remember that they were all about to get separated into different groups, but she hadn't seen the really deathly pale girl for awhile. Sophia was really curious about the giant of a man, and did want to know more about his past. "You should join us, it would be fun." She said giving him a smile.

Then Sophia turned her attention back at Alicia, when she answered her question and frowned slightly. "Well I guess I cant out drink some stupid frat boys if we ever go to some college." She said then Alicia decided to start, looking over at The Hat wondering if he'd actually join in, she didn't take a drink from her's since she was born way after that, and Sophia couldn't help but smirk slightly when Alicia answered Bart's question.

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Faith didn't take another drink as she was clearly not born before the 1900s. Thank Christ for that! A world without cell phones and the Internet? No thank you! Hell, she appreciated the zombie apocalypse more now having been through it with modern technology. Their new guest had a tone of judgment in his voice, at least from what she gathered. What, were the Emendators too good to sit around and drink with them?

Alicia responded to the blonde kid with a healthy dose of sass that she appreciated. She was slowly starting to piece together how this upside-down world worked. "So, I totally get how some things work now and I don't want to sound unappreciative because, damn, I can turn somewhat invisible and that is fucking awesome! But how does this all work? I mean, we can't get pregnant, have periods, and all that, but we still need to eat and we can get drunk? And we are dead, but have alive people functioning? After the drinking game, I hope the tour continues and my questions can get answered, cuz I got a lot more than that."

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Nancy took the shovel from George, feeling the weight of it. As George cleaned his mask and Giouse set off to find a spot for a proper burial, she took the shovel out and extended her arms, attempting to balance the weight of it on the middle of her forearm. It was a bit of an odd sight to see, no doubt, but Nancy had done far stranger things in even more unusual situations before. There was a reason that she was the strange aunt of the family of Emendators and Paradoxes. The shovel clattered to the ground after a moment and she bent down to pick it up, before trying the same balancing act again.

"We could frame it as a welcome tea for the newcomers," Nancy proposed with a mischievous smile. "And no tea, of course, is complete without sweets. Though...does Alicia drink tea?" she then asked. She could only picture Alicia drinking spirits. While it was entirely possible the empath did drink tea, Nancy simply didn't know - and it seemed almost out of character for Alicia as well. Maybe they'd need to use the water somehow as a part of an alcoholic beverage - though it sounded horrible off the top of her head. She nodded once George said he was ready and she headed out with him, tossing her shovel from hand to hand.

Back inside the main house, Andromeda nodded at Evelina's response, digesting the information she had learned. Her theory was quickly disproven by the fact that a non-Paradox had stayed there before, but it didn't upset her. Her mother was a scientist - she had been drilled that a result of no was potentially even more meaningful than just confirming a previous suspicion. However, she had to wonder just who Evelina had invited into the loop before that hadn't been a Paradox or an Emendator - and how she had explained everything to them. From what Andromeda could tell, some of the other timelines didn't seem to have the supernatural as a reality. She had lived through a bunch of strange things herself, making the concept of the loop not nearly as daunting.

"Not at all," Andromeda said, before carefully positioning her hands to push together Peter's wounds as described. Had it been someone she knew, it would have been too much to ask - potentially. But Peter was a complete stranger to her. And with all of the death she had just seen, she didn't have the time or really even a reason to be squeamish about these sort of things.

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A broad smile caught Gilbert quite unaware, even despite the blow they had all taken with Peter's death. He was a man who was fully enamored with the ups and downs of humanity, identifying strongly with them and what their world had to offer. As a soldier, possibly even the Eternal Soldier, he had downed and killed more people in combat than anyone who had ever been. But this is part of the experience - war brought out the worst of people, but it also brought out the best. The heroes. He never wished strife and bloodshed upon anyone (maybe in his much younger days), it was just that he was so damned good at it. Coupled with the unerring fact that there would always be the need for warriors, it was most definitely part of the experience, forevermore.

Hopefully, this particular experience would bring out the best in the new Paradoxes. It surely was bringing out something in them. No, the smile was for the Russian lady, trying hard not to spew The Original Mountain Dew out of her nose. The smile continued as Bart addressed him. It was a fair question, and from one of the new Paradoxes he was supposed to be showing around the grounds. Before he answered though, he did have the courtesy to return Sophia's wave and give a friendly nod in her direction.

"Fair enough, Bartholomew. There is a broad answer and smaller, more specific ones. The broad answer is that we are offering a second chance at life, of a sort - a life that for... all of you, I think, was ripped from you without cause or meaning. Though we're not offering it persay, you are receiving new abilities that humanity only dreams about. They're a little unstable at first, but almost everyone gets the hang of them in due time. And lastly, you have something that cannot come at any price: Purpose." His voice stayed friendly and even, not pushy or condescending, at least as far as he could tell. It was a little vague, but sincerity flowed from his lips as he spoke. "Now, I think you've already seen your rooms, if that's what you're asking about, and the house. For the rest of the tour, well, we will have to get back to that sooner or later." At this last sentence, he looked knowingly at Faith, who seemed chock full of questions about the implications of the new rules under which they existed.

"Metaphysical and existential questions are really best left to Evie, ah, Miss Lucas." he started, continuing to clarify with, "The Dice."

But it occurred to him that he hadn't yet responded to the good natured sarcasm offered up by Alicia. He thought it was good natured, anyway. But with the requirement of drinking being that someone live in a time period before 1900, his smile got even bigger before he actively suppressed it, and took a drink from his coffee cup full of Corn Squeezin's. Even he winced a little bit, followed by a light exhalation. "That's not quite fair, now is it? Anyway, you cannot hang the War of 1812 on Yours Truly. That little brouhaha was kicked off by President Madison of the United States, though if you asked me he didn't have a choice in the matter, and the British were hoping to soften up their former colonies before a full invasion anyway with allied movements in Canada and extreme sanctioning." He gave a small laugh, "Just wait until I get going."

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There was a lot going on in the room. Conversations happening all around James, of which he was involved. The one, anyway, with Alicia. Then she said something that gave him serious pause. She had mentioned earlier that she had a child in her other timeline, an adorable little boy. That was well and good; James was even happy for her. Well, happy and sad both at the same time. It was a lot to lose, and the little boy would never know his mother. But the fact remained that there had to be a father involved in this somewhere, and from what Alicia had said, still alive. Until Caesar got to him, anyway.

James did not know the incarnation of Caesar in the other timeline, but he indeed knew the man in his own. Scary beyond all imagining was a start. Full of love and vigor was a continuation. And damn, could he cut a path through bodies like it was nobody's business. Whomever this Keystone was, he would have a lot to answer for. James didn't know why he was compelled to find out more about the man, though he suspected that it was because of his close friendship with Alicia's boyfriend st the time of her death in his own timeline. It almost felt like she was cheating on him, though that was silly. Even in marriage, the deal was "Til Death Do Us Part". A separate incarnation on a different, parallel dimension of temporal possibility probably counted for double.

The Wereboar Blackneck (who was toying with "Hog Wild" as his new superhero identity, though Wereboar Blackneck sounded pretty good, too) raised his glass to Alicia, saying, "Hey hey, scary lady? Tell me 'bout that baby-daddy o' yours. He a good man, right? Take care o' that boy? If'n your pops lets him live, I mean. What he do for a livin'?" He had to admit a growing curiosity. For someone to have a child with Alicia? Had to be something about him.

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Gio walked with purpose towards the large oak tree. If Nancy and George jogged or ran, they'd be able to catch up with him, otherwise he'd probably get to his destination well beforehand. When he arrived, he would inspect it with some degree of satisfaction with the selection. Yes, this would do nicely.

It was a no-brainer that if he had to choose somewhere to rest eternally somewhere on this property, that he would almost certainly pick under this tree. He basically spent all his time there anyways. But for practical reasons, he still needed to be a bit choosy on the exact location they'd start digging. This close to the water, there was a risk that if they did this poorly, the thing could potentially come undone and then they'd have to fetch the cadaver and make a new grave for him. A most unwelcome outcome.

So Gio circled the tree, testing the soil here and there with his shovel to see how easily it gave, how hard it compacted and how intrusive the plant's roots appeared to be. Eventually he found a place that seemed like it wouldn't be too difficult to excavate, but not in any immediate danger of falling victim to the whims of the elements or overly careless Paradoxes.

Now all he needed to do before they could start the actual labor of digging out the ground was measure and mark out the perimeter of the area. Having that done just made things a lot easier. They needn't worry about making the hole too small and having the widen the thing or going too large, wasting time and energy shoveling dirt that could have stayed put. Continually piercing the ground with the tip of his shovel, Gio roughly marked out a rectangle that was roughly a meter wide by 2 meters long. It was a bit uneven and his lines could have been straighter, but he didn't have the meterstick on hand to put things as uniform as he would have liked. For their purposes it would be good enough, and leave enough leeway for Peter to have a bit of elbow room down there.