[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 (Main exit -> Room 203) 
[b][color=sienna]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

        It was a fine night, Gilbert noted, in Louisiana. Thanks to the time loop it was [i]always[/i] a fine night, but sometimes it still bore notation. He marveled at the fact that, even though it was an endless loop of the same piece of time, things could still come out so differently. Their actions, no matter how small, blossomed into other happenings. And now with the introduction of new Paradoxes, things were getting interesting again. And he was hungry. But that wasn't especially new, no matter what happened to the loop. 

        So, perhaps a quick jaunt to the Kitchen House would be a grand idea just before the reset. Mentally Gilbert inventoried what they had available. He was feeling a bit [i]meaty[/i] just then, perhaps something left from breakfast in the icebox would suffice. Or he could go for a can of corned beef hash. He did like the stuff, even if it did remind him of dog food. Then a notion crept into his memory: There were several cans of asparagus sitting behind the dried beans in the pantry. The thought of it suddenly made him lose his interest in a midnight snack. I mean, what the hell was canned asparagus anyway? Aside from disgusting... only to stave off starvation. And he wasn't sure if he could even die of starvation. No, wait for breakfast. Go settle in for the night. 

        The jog to his room was brief. He could do it in the dark. Had, many times. Up the stairs, around the bend, and into Room 203. Grab some sleep, etc. He did not count on what appeared to be an errant banana peel laying suspiciously on the floor. His hand still clutching the doorknob, Gilbert planted a foot upon the dim yellow prop, and said foot skidded out wide in front of him. The ponderous weight of the tall Emendator caught fully upon the doorknob, ripping it free from the door with a series of wooden shards. Gilbert plopped on the floor hopelessly, knowing full well that one of two people was responsible. But he was done tonight. Without bothering to right the door, he dropped the knob, stripped down to his boxers, and lay down on his bed. Gil had enough of this day. 



[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 -> Room 209)
[b][color=indianred]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

        Meanwhile, James busied himself with putting the cart back into the Kitchen House. So far as he knew, this "reset" they were talking about would fix everything anyway, but he at least wanted it out of the way. Keep the grounds tidy, that sort of thing. He bid a couple of polite good nights and excused himself, rolling the cart into its assigned building and turning back around to the main house. Briefly, he saw Gilbert move in the direction of the Kitchen House, but then stop, look a little green, and continue to the main house himself. 

        James wondered what h8s life was going to be like, starting tomorrow. Maybe like one of those old kung-fu movies he loved growing up, where he would receive massive training and a snazzy outfit. Maybe a new, fu-esque name upon graduation. It was all in the realm of fantasy, but objectively, he was a dead guy magically transported to rural Louisiana decades before he was even born. It could happen. 

        What could also happen was him getting rest. Being dead and the events of the day had flat worn him out. He decided to take Evelina's advice and settle in for the night, leave tomorrow's business for tomorrow. Approaching his room, he mentally prepared himself for what he would find inside. Memories and souvenirs from his old life, but also a comfortable bed in a venerable house. He could do with that. Time for sleep. The rest would sort itself out.