[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=sienna]Gilbert Summers, "The Hat"[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]http://sharovarka.com/pictures/jason-momoa/27512-jason-momoa.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=sienna]Location:[/color][/b] Ville au Camp (By the Oak) 
[b][color=sienna]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	It looked very much like the party was moving in the direction of the Oak. Conversations seemed to be pulling Belladonna toward the area and the nearby cart full of goodies where everyone was gathering anyway, and it was no surprise that she was indeed the center of attention. She tended to be. But as it just so happened, Gilbert wanted to pay a little visit to the cart, himself. He took a leisurely walk alongside the slender, extremely popular lady as their individual discussions brought them closer and into the clearing near the monolithic Oak. As they neared James, the oddly cheerful fellow manning refreshments (and his protege for the evening), Gilbert cleared his throat and nonverbally offered to top off Belladonna's tumbler of scotch. 

	Being as he had a later appointment with the woman, he figured that the other, significantly more recent residents of Ville au Camp could benefit from her confidence and experience. He let a reassuring gaze linger with her before nodding slightly and motioning to the cart, indicating his next intended destination. 

	Gilbert approached the cart, giving a mind's eye listen to the recent conversations nearby. He did not know exactly how to feel about the implications around "Wake The Dead", considering that the person interred was a friend and fellow warrior, and very recently at that. He was certain that Evelina would handle the situation with grace and tact; it was her specific forte and perhaps her most powerful ability, even over her abilities as an Emendator. It was often his belief that the proper application of mundane abilities were as useful, if not moreso, than the most enigmatic of powers. 

	But that thought wasn't at the fore of his mind. What [i]was[/i] revolved around a set of two smallish logs of sponge cake filled with a light and airy creme that was, until the Second Great War, flavored with bananas. Since the hostilities began and the oblong yellow fruits were rationed among the soldiery, the nigh heavenly gift was instead flavored with vanilla. Gilbert had no preference; so far as that was concerned both were worthwhile endeavors of the human condition. Approaching the cart, James, and everyone else nearby, his content, laid-back smile turned into a childlike grin. He crouched, pulling back the drapery covering the bottom shelf of the wheeled chariot of earthly delights, and stashed his bottle. Simultaneously, he procured a handful of cellophane-wrapped packages and held one out to both James and Alexandra, the two who seemed most interested in the cartbound goodies. [color=sienna]"The two of you might or might not be familiar with..."[/color] he began, interested in their take on the confection.




[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 (By the Oak)
[b][color=indianred]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	[color=indianred]"Holy shit, y'all gots TWINKIES!"[/color] exclaimed James, cutting off the taller and painfully more powerful Emendator. He accepted the gift with something akin to reverence. He hadn't seem one of these for a long, long time, and he remembered them damned fondly. He didn't actually see what all Gilbert had loaded into the bottom of the cart, just that it was supposed to be backups for the show pieces and beverages along the top. But Twinkies? He was sitting upon the motherlode of spongy golden deliciousness this entire time and no one had thought to tell him? Of course not... and it was probably good thinking on their part. He might have been tempted to destroy the entirety of their Twinkie stash by means of instantaneous inhalation. James had lived without luxury items of any kind for a very long time (camouflage tuxedo and homemade whiskey notwithstanding), and this, well, was like a little slice of mana of his very own. 

	It was even enough to take his mind off of the overabundance of particularly witchy women in his immediate surroundings. That was not to say that, after ingesting - no, [i]savoring[/i] - the amazing little prepackaged treat, he would not fall back into old habits. Just that right now, priorities shifted from the concept that he likely wouldn't embrace (and probably shouldn't pursue) to the idea of a moment's sugary bliss. Yes, bliss. The rest could understandably wait. 

	Remembering his manners finally, [color=indianred]"Why, thank you kindly there, Mr. Hat, sir! You just trade up fo' a Coke and a smile now, y'hear?"[/color] He popped the top off of the bottle he was holding just a moment prior and handed it over to Gilbert, then paid close scrutiny to the package in his hands. [color=indianred]"Now, Miss Alex? If you ain't never had no [i]twanky[/i] before, you are in for a real good time. Mmm hmm, mmm hmm..."[/color]