[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=a0522d]Gilbert Summers[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]
https://list.lisimg.com/image/2428138/300full.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=sienna]Location:[/color][/b] Ville au Camp (Kitchen House -> Carnival) 
[b][color=a0522d]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	Gilbert acknowledged Andromeda's concern before continuing with the rest of the discussion at hand. [color=a0522d]"You are much stronger now. Never forget this."[/color] Otherwise, he grew silent as the conversation progressed. Gil knew a thing or two about having to make hard decisions, the kind that people had to live with for the rest of their lives. For someone like an Emendator, that was literally an indeterminate span of time. You made peace with it somehow and moved on, or you let it consume you. He didn't even want to imagine what it would be like for one of his fellow immortals, or even himself, to succumb to something related to the darkness he had caused before he fully realized what kind of responsibility his abilities gave him. And he had caused a LOT of darkness. In one of his eras, he was even referred to as a demon. 

	The young man had traded one life for another, and now the lady knew it for certain. Gilbert knew nothing about the nature of the trade, although he hoped that the guy at least deserved it, so far as his ability to judge such things went. Gil did decide to respond to Ben's question to him, affirming what he had just said to the Paradoxes in the room. [color=a0522d]"It is part of being who we are. Like a tradeoff. Potential life for present life."[/color] The world had a funny sort of symmetry to it, if one gave it thought. Much of the time these things didn't make any sense unless viewed through the glass of hindsight, but eventually light was always shed into the darker places. 

	However, it seemed like the opposite of that was happening outside. The sudden onset of dusk was problematic, obviously. If this was a true coming of night; the manipulation of time or the like, then that meant they had guests coming for which they were not yet prepared. If this phenomenon was limited to the boundaries of the Time Loop, that was a different matter entirely. Then again, this utter manipulation of reality was a trifle unnecessary in Gilbert's eyes. Waiting was never the problem for him. He had waited for years, even centuries for certain things to come to pass. A few hours was [i]nothing[/i] to him, but apparently it was for the leader of the Carnivale. Gilbert had things he wanted to accomplish that day. 

	Well, there was always tomorrow. In this place, tomorrow was both eternal and nonexistent. He wouldn't mind in the least extending the Paradoxes' leisure time for another day to account for this sudden departure from the plan for them. The other departure of the moment was that of Ben's, moving immediately to respond to the drastic alteration of their environment. Remaining upbeat, or appearing to at any rate, he spoke after Ben, [color=a0522d]"By all means, lead the way,"[/color] and strode to follow. 

	His biggest regret in the moment was that the water for his tea hadn't come near to a boil yet. 



[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=cd5c5c]James Grady[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/b0c1bca3-09d6-44bd-9e30-4651777b3ef6.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=indianred]Location:[/color][/b] Ville au Camp (Kitchen House)
[b][color=cd5c5c]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	It was said that the manners the American South was so famous for was taught to them by the British. James didn't really think that was so, considering his own family history with persons of European descent was a little sketchy. He didn't blame the generation of them present at the time of his birth, though, and certainly not the generation present at his death. There were a ton of assholes to go around, rather than lump all of them into one specific group of people with which he and his historically had difficulty. And being fair, James was rarely burdened with an overabundance of formal manners. He tried. Really he did. But he failed a lot, too. So when The Watch made comment about his oversight that could have been easily remedied by a hand towel, he didn't take it personally. [color=cd5c5c]"Ah shit. Sorry, Boss."[/color] he said quietly so as to not interrupt the conversation in progress. It probably didn't hurt matters that Giosue seemed particularly British to him, like someone he'd seen who looked a lot like him in a sci-fi program somewhere along the line. So okay, James would listen to his advice on manners. 

	His initial difficulty could be handled by drying his face off. They had plenty of things that might be useful in that regard, but he chose a nearby apron, hanging on the wall. The other issue was one of basic sandwichry. As it so happened, he had access to a basic sandwich, which he wasted no more time in placing upon a plate and sliding it over to Andromeda. It wasn't anything special, just something that put solidity into one's stomach and was perfectly palatable, if uninteresting. Regarding the lone item on the plate, James shook his head. [color=cd5c5c]"Naw, Miss Andy..."[/color] he shuffled together another sandwich and placed it next to the first on his fellow Paradox's plate, followed up by another quiet intonation of, [color=cd5c5c]Gonna be a long day, and you been pushin' y'self. Hmm?"[/color] 

	Of course, the light of day decided to recede, instantly making a liar of him. [color=cd5c5c]"Really? [i]Really[/i]? Guess I'm wrong again."[/color] There was a touch of sarcasm to his voice, birthed of making light of yet another unprecedented showing of power. In a more serious tone, [color=cd5c5c]"Might ought put somethin' on your stomach anyway. Might just have us a long [i]night[/i], now."[/color] He glanced out of the window, half expecting the sun to re-emerge like some celestial practical joke. On the inside, though, he was worried. Very worried.