Note: Fancy seeing you here on time this fine morning. How are you doing? Good? Good.
PREVIOUSLY ON THE CLASSIX: So Emeray's going through a bit of a crisis. She saw Foster, right? But who was that bouncer who saw Foster too since the other bouncer on duty didn't know him? And why did Emeray suddenly start caring so much about what Norax thinks, especially after we all previously agreed that Norax sucks? Why is Emeray taking a thousand steps backward all the sudden??? Don't you hate when the protagonist does something you hate!?!?!???!
So let's take a little breather.
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chapter stones, everybody
There's something up with Emeray. Not in a she-seemed-a-little-distracted-this-morning-at-breakfast way. Not in a she-missed-her-piano-lesson-two-days-in-a-row-and-I'm-concerned way. No, there's something up with Emeray in a way I struggle to compute––in a way in which I can only describe using words I don't want to use.
To be perfectly frank about it, it's gotten to the point where I don't even recognize her anymore.
The thing is, she's changed. You can see it in her walk, in the way she speaks, in her entire disposition. It's been gradual, discreet in a manner that reminds me of how Lex started to change on the Onward Train set. A few personality dips here and there, a new way of dressing––nothing too incredibly drastic so as to imitate some kind of warning sign. The differences have been developing so slowly, too, that one might not even notice Emeray's really changed at all unless they recall to life the person she was months ago. I, for one, don't voluntarily go prancing through most of my memories, good or bad as they may be. That's probably why it took me so long to realize.
But when I did realize, it was unavoidable.
March may be drawing to a close, but it's another arctic day today in Colburn. From the window I can see a mixture of rain and snow sheeting down on the frost already on our grounds, covering the grey slush with a newer, whiter coat. Coming from a place in Eldae where it only ever really rained, snow had been a really new thing to me when I joined the Famoux a couple years back. Today, it's nothing out of the ordinary. Colburn is located in a northern region of Betnedoor, and so snow in March––even in April––is something you get used to quickly. In fact, I can't even remember what spring used to be like without seeming to be winter's drearier sequel.
Most of the Famoux are using today's snowstorm as an excuse to cancel their calendars for a day. I've been sitting at one of the dozens of drawing rooms on the Hideaway's first floor for hours now, and one by one other members have been trickling in and joining me. For a rare moment, almost all of us, Classix and Fanatix alike, are gathered together in one concentrated place.
