[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=a0522d]Gilbert Summers[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]
https://www.summerofdan.net/.a/6a00d83431352e53ef01bb09f83ab5970d-500wi[/img][hr][b][color=sienna]Location:[/color][/b] Ville au Camp (Kitchen House) 
[b][color=a0522d]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	Gilbert was ever the tactician. Most of what he did was based around the presumption of human reaction surrounding him, or at least the focal point of whatever had his interest. Or because he was bored. Or hungry. It could be a number of reasons, but [i]this time[/i] his actions were due to the hope of cause and effect. It turned out that he was, in part, correct. Though the free sharing of what information he had just acquired was not expected. From the look on Ruthie's face, the same held true for her. Very casually, Gilbert brought down a couple of boxes of different teas from the cabinet above as he listened to Ben and Ruthie's conversation. It was some intriguing stuff.

	The part that got to him was the sudden wash of realization creeping over Ruthie as she did the math on the situation of her being alive right then. Ben had to have killed someone to bring her back. From what he said, depending upon how long she had been dead and what condition she was in, it might have been someone of some power. Or more than one. It was hard to say what he meant in full by the way that he spoke, it was quietish and left some room for interpretation, but Gilbert most certainly understood the basic premise of the conversation; it was the same as balancing a mathematical equation. To get something, you had to take it from somewhere. Even life. Especially life. It was how life worked. For the first time, Gilbert had a sense of sorrow for the boy. He thought Ben rude, a poor guest certainly, and that he had taken liberties he should not have, but there was a sort of odd kinship to him. He had made decisions that no one should have to make, ever. And he had to live with the repercussions of those decisions. 

	As for Ruthie, Gilbert quietly popped the stopper from the bottle of Glen and topped off her glass. It was turning into a hell of a day for her, too, knowing that someone was dead for her sake. [color=a0522d]"Let me know if you will want something to eat with that. I will take care of it."[/color] 

	So Ben wasn't quite a Healer in the truest sense. [color=a0522d]"We call that Shunting."[/color] he said to the guy. Elaborating, [color=a0522d]"Your version has qualities that are not ordinarily associated with Shunting, as we are aware. You are a catalyst, essentially."[/color] As he thought earlier, it was some intriguing stuff. Likewise, Gilbert was interested to see if that patch of grass would be restored with the loop reset at midnight. Considering the series of revelations issued around the kitchen table that day, Gilbert looked to Andromeda, gave a sly glance to Giosue, and favored her with the tiniest of smiles. It was no secret that she was his star pupil out of this group of Paradoxes, and he did think that Gio's use of words concerning a possible lack of interest in the events unfolding. [color=a0522d]"You have a knack, Andromeda, for being in interesting places at the most interesting of times."[/color] 




[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=cd5c5c]James Grady[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/11325d90-1162-4f69-a2f3-7ece57b6cc3c.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=indianred]Location:[/color][/b] Ville au Camp (Kitchen House)
[b][color=cd5c5c]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	James had already stuffed a sandwich fully into his mouth. It was a mechanical motion more than anything else; his hands and face went into autopilot while he was holding onto the thing, so enraptured was he in the conversation unfolding before him. This was some of the most interesting shit he had the privilege of being witness to in a long, long time. Hell, not since he learned that the recently deceased were standing back up and claiming living victims was he more caught in someone else's conversation. Leaning over to Sophia, mouthful of sandwich, he used the lesser part of his manners to speak around ham and cheese, [color=cd5c5c]"If'n I wake up tomorrow with my head stapled to the carpet, Miss Sophie, I [i]still[/i] wouldn't be [i]any[/i] more surprised. Mmm hmm."[/color]

	It was at this point that he realized that he hadn't put any sort of condiment on his sandwich and it was sticking mercilessly to the roof of his mouth. He didn't see the coffee that Sophia had made in front of him, so his initial action was to shake the jar of mustard over his agape visage in hopes of dislodging a bit of it and breaking up the monotony with his half-chewed impromptu meal. Well, it dislodged all right. A large glob made in to its intended destination, but another decided that landing in his eye was a better way of going about things. Amid a cluster of chants sounding much like [color=cd5c5c]"[i]Ow ow fuck ow damnit fuck ow ow ow mutha ow fuck ow damnit ow muthafuck...[/i]"[/color], James staggered his way over to the sink and held his face underneath the faucet. A few seconds of water mercifully cascading upon him later and James popped his head back up, flinging droplets about the room that he seemed completely oblivious to, happy with his personal relief of the removal of a vinegar based condiment from his eyeball. [color=cd5c5c]"Whooo! That was a little adventure, now wan'nit?"[/color] 

	Suddenly remembering that they were in the middle of a life altering discussion, James tossed his two cents in. [color=cd5c5c]"Aight, now I [i]know[/i] you gettin' both barrels a'questions, but if'n you'll bear with, it's the '[i]like all them before me[/i]' part you said what makes a man curious, get me?"[/color] He held up a finger as if to ask him to hold on for a sec, and turned to Andromeda. [color=cd5c5c]"I'm sorry as hell, Miss Andy. I'm forgettin' my manners [i]all kinda ways[/i]. Would you like a sandwich too?"[/color]