She had always liked the train, the beat to it, the steady movement, the repetition of it all. When she was on it, time just seemed to slip by as she listened to the rails against the wheels, the stampede of people getting on and off, the monotonous voice of the conductor, either asking to see her ticket again or telling the entire station which was the next station. She felt unseen on the station, away from judging eyes. Nobody frowned at her hair, nobody sniffed at her piercings, nobody tutted at her tattoos. Everyone had seen it all before. It was the one place where the weird was accepted.
But she wasn't on the train for her own benefit, no. Today, it was for a real reason. She had been sent here on a mission, to find someone. Well, two someones. They were here, on this train from Florence to London. It was an odd pick of transport, especially for this kind of thing. A six hour train trip on an express train. Wouldn't it be easier if they took a plane? Didn't the Royal Family have about six thousand of those?
She had been on this train for a while, just waiting for those two someones to get on. As far as she had been told, they were on this train, then heading to London, then getting escorted to Boston to the Royal Family mansion. It was kind of ridiculous. They were free. Why did they want to go back to the jail that was the Royal Family.
She barely even batted an eye as she watched the two someones get on the train, putting their luggage above them and sitting in a quad seat, conversing quietly. Cira and Alexander Gaile. They were an interesting duo and their Atlantean heritage only made them more intriguing. Their file had been a good read. Abilities which allowed them to control (or attempt to control) the laws of physics? It was cool.
When the train had started moving, she got up from her lone seat next to the door and slowly stepped over to the father and son, swaying with the train. She invited herself to their conversation, taking a seat next to the boy, Cira. She looked so out of place, with her 'half'-mohawk, her tattoos of sakura trees, dragons, demons and smoke down her arms with a huge spiral on the left side of her head, seen on her scalp through the shaved part of her hair. She was dressed rather rattily, a singlet top, ripped skinny jeans and a pair of ruined shoes. Her piercings were odd, one on her eyebrow (or lack of. She had no eyebrows) and at least nine or ten on her ears.
"Hello," she said, her accent a strong Italian. "Where are you headed?"
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