[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=sienna]Gilbert Summers, "The Hat"[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://st2.depositphotos.com/5326338/8137/i/450/depositphotos_81379998-stock-photo-actor-jason-momoa.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=sienna]Location:[/color][/b] Ville au Camp (Gate) 
[b][color=sienna]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	It had been quite some time since Gilbert had someone else's voice reverberate in the back of his head. It was unexpected, granted, though the magic trick of telepathy was not the startling thing for him that it might have been a few thousand years ago. Time and experience had shown Gilbert many, many things; within the whole of creation and its multitude of timelines, he had been exposed to more things undreamt of in the general philosophies of humanity, many of which existed right under their noses, hiding in plain sight. It did suffice to invoke a quick eyebrow raise as Gilbert acknowledged the fact that someone was speaking directly into his mind. His charming smile remained exactly where it was throughout the entirety of the message, however. 

	[color=sienna]"You know, [i]Joe[/i], it has been a long while since I have been to a carnival. And we were just discussing what to do about being shorthanded today. I am inclined to say yes. We might discuss the particulars with their headman this evening."[/color] 

	Gilbert noticed the sudden appearance of a couple of the Paradoxes. It made sense that they be drawn to the one piece of abrupt difference in the otherwise steady time loop. He would be puzzled otherwise. Sophia addressed them first, so it made sense to start with her. [color=sienna]"No of course not, Sophia. They have enough manpower to tend to their own labors. Besides, you have the week off, remember? Relax. Reflect. Enjoy yourself."[/color] 

	And to Faith, [color=sienna]"Why Faith, this is a carnival. Curious, is it not?"[/color] He nodded is head in the direction of the assembled caravan of trucks, intoning, [color=sienna]"I am certainly in the mood for a little diversion. I think our evening guests may appreciate, also."[/color] 

	It was times like this that Gilbert knew, despite his ages upon ages of consciousness, that he did not know everything. Oh he knew much. More amassed history than any single source upon the earth, but that didn't count as everything by a long and fair shot. Moreover, one of the things which puzzled him was the nature of this Emendator-esque force that lay within the confines of the carnival. Even that voice - unknown yet oddly familiar, all at the same time. It rekindled a sense of wonder about the world around him. He was rather fond of it, and every interesting thing humanity had to offer. This... this was just another facet of it. Apparently, yet [i]even another[/i] facet of humanity was presenting itself in the form of James, hauling ass up the secondary thoroughfare to join them. 	



[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=indianred]James Grady[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]http://home.bt.com/images/hap-leonard-james-purefoy-136416888779002601[/img][hr][b][color=indianred]Location:[/color][/b] Ville au Camp (The Mill -> Gate)
[b][color=indianred]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	Okay, so he wasn't in the Mill. That was a bit of a letdown. The thought had crossed his mind briefly to jump into one of the sets of armor and outfit himself as some kind of time hopping walking anachronism, his plumed Roman helmet contrasting against the brace of magnum revolvers and conquistador breastplate. It would be the thing to do now that he was left all to his lonesome inside of The Hat's workshop; or as he had called it just moments ago, "The Hatcave". The image was short lived, however, as he remembered that he had a job to do before rushing back out of the front door. Next time, definitely. 

	For just a second or two, James's thought process on what to do hit a scramble. He stood impotently outside of the doors to The Mill, aware of only a need for urgency but unable to make any sense of it for himself. He wasn't the type to wring his hands and pace furiously with worry, incapable of helping himself. He just needed a point in the right direction and he could start on most difficulties himself, thank you very much. That was it! Right direction. His eyes drifted into focus, noting something just up the pathway a ways. It was [i]both[/i] of the Emendators he was looking for, plus about half of the Paradoxes, [i]and[/i] a frigging convoy of strange Caucasians in trucks. That'd do. 

	With purpose, James poured on the effort, hauling himself up the road to speak with the tall, tawny-skinned Emendator known as The Hat. As he approached, Gilbert noticed his approach and waved him over. James wasn't sure what he should be saying in mixed company, so, the second his breathing began to slow, he stood close to The Hat, his back to the people in the trucks, and said with a quiet voice, [color=indianred]"Alicia... She gone, man. Girl done poofed away in a flash of light, comin' from her eyes an' mouth, Mr. Hat, sir. We was up in her room. I need help, man. I don't know what to do."[/color] 

	Gil's smile faded. He sighed, and gave James a knowing look. Barely at a whisper, he responded, [color=sienna]"I might know what this is. But I want to check anyway. Show me."[/color] Looking up at the others nearby, his smile returned and he said, [color=sienna]"You know my thoughts on this. Please excuse me, I need to check on something. Andromeda?"[/color] he addressed his would-be traveling companion, [color=sienna]"Next cycle, circumstances permitting. You may join us at the house or stay here, at your choice."[/color] 

	With that, James started to jog back to the Main House. Gilbert tipped his hat to the people present, and moved to join the newer Paradox. The ramifications of what might have just happened weighed on his thoughts.