Norma
Emil Pecheur
Road to an Erillian Market

Emil nodded pensively as Esme spoke about the servants being dismissed. While he couldn't imagine wanting to work, he knew that shitbloods loved it, and he felt bad for them, due to the fact that they had now been deprived of their sole joy in life.

When Esme asked him how things were going on the coast, Emil's face fell even further. In that moment, he looked very much like his grandmother, whose face, by the time she had died, had fallen all the way down to the floor. "Dad's balding," He said, by way of explanation. The thought of his father clutching at his hair and screaming at the mirror made him smile, but immediately after, he frowned again. "He's crying all the time. He even replaced the painting of the *S.S. Guimauve*." This, of course, was the most heinous transgression to his father and therefore the most indicative of his current, devastated state of mind.

Emil continued his heavy, plodding walk for several more minutes. He did not, in reality, have much idea of where he was going because the glaring sun had caused him to squint most unattractively and, beyond that, deprived him of his sense of vision. By the time he noticed there was another person walking towards him, he was within several feet of her.

"Oh! Hello," He said lamely. Blinking rapidly in an effort to get rid of the hideous black spots distorting his vision, Emil adjusted the wooden boy in his arms, so that his beautifully-carved facial features were facing the stranger in front of him. Emil's merchant senses were tingling. Where, he wondered, shaking his head to clear his view of the remaining black spots, was Esme?
David
**Esme Pecheur
Road to an Erillian Market**

"That's a horrible shame," Esme said as she heard the unfortunate things about her uncle. He had become weak, unlike Esme's father, who she viewed as being quite strong. It was a shame Emil hadn't been born her sibling. He might have inherited the strong bones of Esme's father rather than the twiggy, undesirable bones of her uncle. Then again, perhaps Emil's boney-bone bones made it easier for him to swim, whereas Esme often had trouble staying afloat.

Esme came to Emil's side and noticed a woman approaching them when Emil greeted her. "Perchance we make your acquaintance, muchly good," Esme echoed her cousins salutations in the customary way for ladies of Erillian social circles. She had a reputation to uphold, even for strangers. As she spoke, she displayed her gloves by extending her hands before her limply, for she dared not flex a finger lest she tear the delicate white lace.
James
Cecilia smiled at the two and replied with a quick hello before responding to the girl's greeting. Shifting her sword once again she relaxed her pose somewhat. She wasn't sure how to introduce herself. She decided to settle on simplicity. 

"Hello! It's nice to see some friendly faces, my name is Cecilia Lanchester." She dipped into a small courtesy after introducing herself. 

Now that she thought about it she probably shouldn't have told them her last name, but it's not like she can undo time.