[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=a0522d]Gilbert Summers[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]
https://i.pinimg.com/236x/16/91/a3/1691a360c6ee2650086a5af9e7a10d74.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=sienna]Location:[/color][/b] Ville au Camp (Carnival -> Main House, Room 101 (Sitting Room)) 
[b][color=a0522d]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	Yes, Gilbert had to agree that indoors was indeed best. Give the option, he could stand overnight in a swamp in the middle of a thunderstorm and be able to tolerate his surroundings; anyone who had seen him in what passed for his original lifetime (all of whom were dead and dust, if even that) would have seen him surviving with a smile on his face while being scoured by desert winds in the throes of a sandstorm. Even for an immortal, he was one hell of a survivor. He was aware enough to realize that not everyone in the whole of creation was as constitute as himself. And [i]tolerate[/i] did not carry the same sort of weight as [i]comfort[/i] for social situations. 

	He did make mention of the minor scolding he received from Siduri, though he thought it strange to be subject to it, all things considered. Nonetheless, he made lighthearted not of it with a casual, [color=a0522d]"I am not best qualified to teach the Paradoxes about etiquette, being as I was originally what would be considered barbaric."[/color] He laughed a little, [color=a0522d]"Evelina does love to refer to me as a barbarian when I do something disorderly."[/color] The statement made Gilbert a little sad, but he pushed through it to complete his thought. [color=a0522d]"However, Faith - Siduri is correct. Failures of the student represent failures of the teacher. I apologize. Perhaps instead of etiquette, we might institute some basic protocol for accepting visitors that would simplify things."[/color] It would be a first. A huge first. Being in a time loop where knowledge of differing timelines and eras within them had zero bearing, coupled with the fact that unexpected and unfamiliar visitors literally never happened, such protocol was completely unprecedented. But seeing as they had exactly those kind of visitors before them, obviously that was a possibility. The implications were heavy. 

	Gilbert began to lead the group gathered in the carnival's area back to the main house with an imperative sounding, [color=a0522d]"Right this way. I believe the Sitting Room can accommodate all of us."[/color] Once he stepped onto the porch and reached the appropriate exterior door, Gil removed his hat, opened the door, and held it so as to admit everyone behind him into the relative comfort of their residence. He was curious to hear of the coming of, what Siduri had mentioned in passing, The End of Times. There were [i]so[/i] many applications of that phrase that would, did, or were happening throughout the lines. They would get to the business of the one who had chosen not to deal with a second life in a bit. Gil had his suspicions. 



[hr][hr][center][h1][b][i][color=cd5c5c]James Grady[/color][/i][/b][/h1][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/110f59a7-f09e-40d4-b96a-9754fb285add.jpg[/img][hr][b][color=indianred]Location:[/color][/b] Ville au Camp (Carnival -> Main House, Room 101 (Sitting Room))
[b][color=cd5c5c]Skills:[/color][/b] N/A [hr][/center]

	Well, this was just peachy. Really. What started out as a simple, if highly unexpected, carnival coming to town just flipped into something leaning toward the truly epic. Not "this is an epic sandwich, bro", nor the slightly less expected, "Did you see that interstate pileup? It was [i]epic[/i]", nor even the news that The Lord of the Rings was being turned into a series of really long movies featuring that guy who played Satan in that movie about the prophecy about Revelations, the name of which escaped him for the first few seconds of his train of thought until he facepalmed and said out loud, [color=cd5c5c]"The Prophecy! Duh!"[/color] That last thought slingshotted him back in the direction of the topic at hand, which apparently also had to do with the prophecy of Revelations, or something close to it as a couple of the people around him at the moment were alive at the time of its writing. Hell, James wouldn't be surprised if one or two of them had a hand in the initial drafting of it. James looked over in Gilbert's direction with raised eyebrows and an expectant expression, as if to punctuate his thought with a well placed, [color=cd5c5c][i]"Lookin' at you there, Gilgamesh!"[/i][/color] that he didn't actually say aloud. 

	But otherwise, he was glad that the incident about manners was brushed to the side, handled, whatever, and they were headed indoors. The weight of something he had quite forgotten about on the temporary shifted in his back pocket, prompting him to ley a hand back there to investigate. It was a half second before he realized that he had a cylinder full of Oreos back there still, which he needed to hand off to the squirrel population of the Destrehan Plantation that evening (or day, something - he wasn't sure about time anymore), as represented by the one he referred to as General Fuzzy. James wondered if they reset with each day, too, or if they simply continued as they always had amid the never-changing day of early Autumn, unaware or uncaring about their situation. If they were not aware and did reset, then he could just avoid the squirrels until midnight and all would be well. If they did not, and he did not pony up the sandwich cookies... well, he didn't want to make enemies of the tiny woodland creatures that he may be able to strike mutually beneficial agreements with at a later time. Something to ask about. Well, later on. This bit about End Times and someone choosing not to deal with a second life and the general failings of humankind was becoming a little much for James to listen to without making some sort of inappropriate comment. 

	Instead, he bit his tongue and moved along with the rest of the group, though he did hang back a little to interpose himself between the last rays of the prematurely setting sun and the fair-skinned member of the group who [i]didn't[/i] have her own umbrella caddy, Andromeda. Hopefully, his taller and broader frame would shield her from the more annoying parts of the remaining light. As they neared the house peoper, James did risk a question: [color=cd5c5c]"Um, y'all mean Alicia, or someone [i]else[/i] disappear in a flash of light?"[/color] He still had her pendant around his neck, the one that depicted a folk saint that he never really believed in but thought sounded pretty badass anyway. A good compliment to both Catholicism and the Gonzalez bloodline. But getting back to the question, did they just lose someone else? Inquiring minds wanted to know. He hoped there would be a straight answer as he entered the building and found a chair for himself.