open Ill-fated Odyssey

<sub>Angel, was not the person to be so chipper in travelling but being on a magical train certainly was not in her list of priorities but in a literal sense yes it was. Trudging along with her luggage which to her surprise was heavy, along with her cat Krio who seemed to be enjoying himself with his slumber, Angel sighed and wish she could have the same luxury as him. Blast. It seems like everyone has friends already, cabins filled. One was empty and there was a boy with sleek hair and rather refined. Pure blood? Angel wouldn’t know unless she went her way to ask.

“Hello, I was hoping if I could at least join you going inside the cabin? You seem to be the only one available or approachable!” she asked earnestly

In hopes of being allowed to enter, Angel waited for a while to anticipate a response from the boy. Her clothes were new and fresh, as well as her looks. Angel loved to keep being kept and tidy and prepared. In waiting she found herself pondering on what is to come for her in Hogwarts. Truthfully, she was quite scared who knows how she would do in that strange odd place, good or bad? If anything she did not know one bit of the wizarding world and quite frankly did not know if a kid like her could ever fit in especially one who in wizard terms was used to the muggle life. How will they get started? Getting to the train or simply planning was already tedious enough what more trying to get used to a school that was new and possibly confusing as well?

Checking her baggage, everything seemed in place. Krio her cat, the remembrall, extra stuff that either was essentials or items to prevent her from being homesick. Either way she did not need to worry about lost items or losing anything and anything forgotten for that matter. She was a person to do things beforehand as to not feel so rushed for a big occasion like this. Being prepared had it’s perks she’d have to admit but from time to time she’d love a little loose tie in schedule where everything was a surprise and random. Describing it as unstructured or going with the flow as some would say. Angel was very fond of the idea of being loose and just going through the day, fun that was the word Angel would often say to others when she feels a bit adventurous in a idle day. Always loved to do something that girl. Anytime she’d find herself sitting still with absolutely nothing to do for the day, musters up something to do, taking the initiative to be busy. Though those words couldn’t be anymore true she does have her moments where she’ll just take a break.

Now back to the boy, looking over the brightly lit skies it was still very bright outside. Looks like the sun has been beaming brightly! Taking a few steps closer she leaned in for just a bit to imply a question if she was welcomed to sit with him.</sub>

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ The blond-haired angel rested his head against the window in a sleep-like state. The sun, now shining directly on his face, only warmed him further as he half-sat, half-lay on the train seat in a stiff position. But what else would a perfectionistic child know if not stiffness? It was home to him, a comfort. His mind wandered even in the mundane rest of the morning; memories of the future flooded his thoughts – flashes of light, white, gold, neon – all of it tainted his eyes, but after all this time, he found comfort in it. In his sleep, he sensed a presence approaching – not passing to another compartment as he’d felt earlier that day, but something moving toward him. It drew closer and closer to where he lay, and before it even happened, the click of the compartment door handle echoed through his mind – not a real sound, but it startled him slightly, and his mind was no longer as engrossed in rest.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Suddenly, the boy was, (not entirely) to his surprise, jolted out of his wandering and daydreams when he heard someone open the compartment door. Since the train was still stationary, it could not have been the conductor checking tickets, so he clutched his pocket to make sure the gilded-edged ticket was still there, safely hidden beneath the denim of his pants, then turned to see who the mysterious intruder was who had entered his compartment.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Standing before him was a girl who appeared to be about his age, perhaps a first year. The boy was immediately struck by her exceptional appearance, which stood out in any room – from her pale skin to her black hair and auburn eyes. She carried herself with an unreadable energy; when first meeting people, he could almost always sense something about them – fair or not – at least their intentions. But this girl was mysterious, or so she seemed to him; her expression revealed nothing, and despite her inviting appearance, there seemed to be a cold barrier separating her from him. Was she fully human? The question arose in him instinctively, though consciously he did not really care. For a moment, he could not look away, as her appearance was unlike anything he had seen before, though the sound of her voice pulled him out of the trance-like silence. She seemed to say something, her red lips moving as she looked at him. It took him a moment to recover and catch what she was saying. Finally, like an owl flying far too slowly, her words reached him – a question, in a tone that seemed eager and earnest. If every interaction at Hogwarts would be like this, he did not really mind. Her voice was friendly, yet at the back of his mind there was a buzzing noise that seemed to repeat the same fact over and over again: “Be afraid, for you might ruin the moment.” His conversation skills were not well developed, as his only conversational partners for most of his life had been two seventy-something-year-old people and a ninety-year-old lady. This interaction was quite different from what he was used to. So, in his mind, he scrambled for whatever came up and blurted it out just to get it over with, yet the voice he heard come from his lips was poised and calm.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Yes. Please, make yourself comfortable, as you wish,” he said, repeating the polite phrases his grandmother had taught him, his eyes politely fixed on the ground, though his posture was turned toward where she stood in the hallway.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ He remained seated as he waited for her to step out of the awkward position she had taken outside his compartment – not fully in, not fully out.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ He was uncertain whether to stand or remain seated. Should he offer her a hand, or would that be strange and awkward? Should he introduce himself? A storm of thoughts swirled in his mind, yet his face remained calm and collected, with the same expression in his eyes as when he looked at the ground like a timid baby deer.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Do you need any help with that?” he blurted out, surprised at himself, glancing up at her trunk, which looked heavy, with her cat perched on top. The sight of the cat made him feel more at home, slightly comforted in a situation he feared he had made miserable for both of them.

dialogue ; #0a0a07 / #807a60 word count ; 732/200 mention ; @Angel Dayes

<sub>It was a sigh of relief to know she was welcomed in. The boy looked rather stoic very well put. What caught her off guard was a sudden asked of help. Angel laughed softly not boisterous or hearty but one that was very posh. Unfortunately she did not like having to be so "well put" but being from the countryside she was rather quiet and social. Not sure how that worked but it must've been instinct to her otherwise it would felt fake. Hating to admit it she loved the best for herself, even if it meant being into the grand life. Her own parents remarked on how she was collected or mature for a young one like her. So what if she was? Still a kid is she not? Sometimes she wished she was like other kids reckless and fond of thrill, but instead she was interested in gardening and culinary. Maybe the word she was looking for was being loose. Still working on that, Angel can be seen as too serious or calm in situations where she should not. Still she was again a kid herself laughing and being reckless. Some don't see it because they don't want too.

"Why yes I would like that thank you very much." she said calmly

As she gotten inside the cabin it was rather quiet and quite quaint too. Her padded feet crossed against the carpeted floors of the train. To her surprise it was also simple.Words could not have expressed how curious she was to know what Hogwarts was like? New environments always interested in exploring weird or exotic places. How they came to be and such. With that in mind people were also interesting like characters in a book. Each having their own dialogues and events. Sonder was how she felt with that. Everyone has their own lives and we'd be in the background or their side characters.

"Have you ever thought of going to a train like this? I certainly did not!" she chuckled amused by her own question rather than the way she randomly asked it.

Most wouldn't have especially muggles or people who lived the muggle life for a while. Somehow everyone was the same age. Maybe the window was being eleven and having some sort of weird incident. What would really await her in a brand new place she has no knowledge of? The specific thoughts of what it will be like was occuring more often.</sub>

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Unnamed deities flourished and came to life in the initial hum of machinery that now filled the background. On the tracks, the metal train wheels screeched, and with a gentle shaking, the train came to life. The machine, bound to its path with no conscious choice, rushed forward toward a known yet blind fate that led them to a goal – though for now, the goal remained clouded. Adolescents from all compartments leaned over the window sills to wave goodbye to their parents and loved ones who had accompanied them to the station that day.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ He wondered if his new compartment companion would rush to the window to wave goodbye, but he himself remained seated. Perhaps his position seemed rather pathetic and lonely – not having or not wanting to wave at anyone on the platform outside the window, – but in his mind, it was better to sit and remain true to himself, completely alone, than to stand and wave to no one in particular outside. That might have made him appear more valued by someone who had brought him today, but it left a bitter taste of guilt in his mouth for how blatantly insincere it would have been. Still, he pulled his legs closer to the bottom his seat to make room for the girl, just in case she had someone worth waving goodbye to.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Her answer to his question rang out and reached him like a snow-white messenger pigeon, and once the words settled in his hands, he stood up from his seat, at the girl’s acceptance of the offer of help. His hand lingered in his pocket where the ticket lay – not to protect it from the girl, as he did not think she would take it, but to feel a sense of familiarity amid all the new and unknown things happening to him moment by moment on the train. His tall, lanky figure moved awkwardly through the cramped compartment as he made his way to her luggage.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ With some tension in his jaw, he lifted the trunk and stacked it onto the metal racks installed above the worn red seats of the train. After some internal struggle, he managed to slide the trunk into place, though he showed none of it, keeping his calm mask on. What eleven-year-old boy would dare show a girl his age how he had struggled to stack her luggage on a shelf? Certainly not Sebastien, who sat back in his seat across from where she had chosen her spot.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ For a moment after he loaded her trunk onto the shelf, and before the words from her mouth would soon break the silence, an awkward pause settled between them, slipping uninvited into the interaction and clinging to the quiet between the two soon-to-be students.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ At the mysterious girl’s amused chuckle and voice, Sebastien lifted his eyes from the ground where he had been staring out of shyness and presumed awkwardness, and offered a restrained smile of his own – a quick quirk of his lips in response to her question. Although the Hogwarts Express was a special, student-only place, symbolizing the beginning and end of the school year as well as holiday travels, it did not fascinate him much. To Sebastien, a train was just a train, nothing more, even though he had never visited or ridden the Hogwarts Express or been to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Perhaps his lack of excitement simply came from having known about magic his whole life, so this was not something he had only discovered a few months ago. Or maybe the issue ran deeper – worries that had clung to him ever since he received his Hogwarts letter and had to leave home, along with the sense of greyness that had settled over him earlier today at the thought of going to school and leaving everything familiar behind. Maybe that was why the atmosphere of the train did not excite him. While pretending otherwise, he nodded and smiled faintly:
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “I have thought about it a few times… Though you are right, it is certainly magnificent,” he remarked, his hands awkwardly resting at his sides, his gaze shifting from her to the door of the compartment as if searching for something to focus on.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Then his eyes finally settled on the cat that had wandered freely around the small train compartment, much like his mind, which lacked a place to rest yet was not entirely drowned in chaos. He observed the animal, his gaze lingering on its fur as it caught the sunlight, reflecting a golden tinge along its strands. Cats fascinated him more than any other animal – their poised nature and often mischievous attitudes. He could have sat in the compartment and watched it all day, not as a spectacle, but as a quiet, slithering presence. His flashes of intuition always led him to cats; their unpredictability brought him comfort. It did not affect him directly, but it added liveliness to an otherwise gray world.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “What is his name?” he found himself asking, expressing his curiosity. A name was not exactly necessary, since the stray cats he often cared for at home were nameless and he remembered them only by the color of their fur, but it was still a way to fill the atmosphere that had settled in the room after the girl's last question and his answer.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Outside, in the sunny weather of that September day, the train chimney’s exhaust released clouds of gray dust mixed with ash, clouding an otherwise promising morning.

dialogue ; #0a0a07 / #807a60 word count ; 917/200 mention ; @Angel Dayes

<sub>Angel sat down quietly and did not so as much went to the window to say goodbye. Parents were not there but they already said goodbye prior to her going in 9/¾ so it was already done. Feeling independent she wanted to go inside alone and that her parents knew Angel would've preferred that anyway too. The boy did not seem to be so eager to wave goodbye to anyone for that matter. Unless he chose too. With his answer to her question it seemed a bit strained but good enough anyway.

Her presence went back once the boy asked what her cat's name was. Well did pet names need to be sophisticated or cute? Lots of people want hidden or deep meanings into things but to her own way of naming things it should be practical and well yes maybe clever. But her cat's name isn't really that special but it helps her call him and identify him so that's that.

"His name's Krio." she says softly

"No it doesn't have any special meaning it was something I made up. But I think it's special in itself because we can use names to identify or call people. At least that's how I see it." adding on to her phrase

With many more people boarding the train alot of kids were still getting on or waving goodbye to their parents now in their compartments or cabins. Which one was it? Angel preferred to call them cabins but the rest liked compartment which is completely valid. Wondering if her parents had attended something like this. Doubtful because her parents needed help from their friends who did. Besides Hogwarts was their any other schools like it? Maybe. What was more interesting was the boy himself. Who he was and what he calls himself. Couldn't help but noticed a tint of hesitation in his eyes, could he have sense she was something else not entirely human? Why most people thought she was just ominous but never had they thought of her being not entirely human all together.

"What's your name?" Angel asked with a bit of reverence she didn't want to be so insistent so she just waited for a response in hopes it will break the barrier.

Looking over the window everyone was on the train and the people left were parents or extended family to see their child go off to a far away place one that's different from their own. Angel was beginning to be a bit homesick already but pheraps she always felt it since she gotten her letter. Her bright red eyes shined and reflected in the basking sun.</sub>

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ With the train in motion, wind rushed in through the slightly open windows, as if left ajar by mysterious morning spirits who had wandered the train before the students had even boarded. Everything felt different. The dark tunnel they entered on the Hogwarts Express just after leaving London seemed like a portal to another world – no family, no obligations. Each student was on their own, with only a trunk, perhaps a pet, and the hope that there would be owls at Hogwarts to contact their families. Beyond that, they were headed into the unknown, their destination obscured by the train’s chimney smoke and by the uncertainty and eagerness in most students’ eyes.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ He noticed she sat down without waving out the window; in fact, she didn’t seem bothered by it at all. This impression of the girl, for some reason, made a strange impression on Sebastien. Of course, this was just the portrait he had painted of her in his mind – the real reason she remained in her seat could have been very different from what he imagined. Still, he found comfort in this idea; even if she had come with her family, it somehow reassured him to think his compartment-mate was just as miserable and lonely as he was – or at least, that’s how he saw it, his view clouded by selfishness and ego.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “His name’s Krio.” Sebastien’s eyes snapped up from observing the cat at the sound of the girl’s words, spoken softly, almost reminding him of a warmly baked whipped cream pie, which he remembered as the softest thing he had ever tasted in his life, once at the Leaky Cauldron.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Her words resonated with him; he had just been thinking about names like that before asking her, and now she was basically speaking his thoughts out loud. Her portrait shifted again in his mind. Though to any observer the two would have seemed like complete opposites, the boy felt the shield he had imagined at the first minute of their meeting drop like a theater curtain, revealing the real performance in all its glory. It made him quietly excited.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ He nodded at her statement blankly, staring again at his fingers as he fidgeted with them nervously – a small gesture that could be easily hidden, yet revealed much more than the expression on the boy’s face.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ As the unknown girl’s second question rang out, Sebastien stumbled a little. He only now realized he had asked the cat’s name first, before even asking her what her name was – and she was a human! Quite disrespectful. He imagined what his grandmother would say at that moment. She probably wouldn’t say anything, just stare at him with a tense expression, as if to say: you hear, it’s not sophisticated to say such things in front of girls. But here he was, completely on his own, with no bickering at his ears, no tense looks shot his way, and it had turned out, much to his dismay, on the verge of awkwardness, worse than he could’ve imagined his conversation skills being.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Sebastien Knox,” he answered, the sound of his own name unfamiliar on his tongue after what felt like years of not saying it, hence not introducing himself to new people. “What’s yours?” he asked, internally cringing at the fact that he hadn’t thought to ask this before becoming so invested in her cat’s name.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ His words sounded awkward and performative, though he swore they weren’t. With the cloud of smoke from the chimney slipping in through the slightly open compartment window and the fog that clouded his mind, he grew less and less sure where this was headed – both the destination and the conversation, as both seemed to wander through endless labyrinths: fields planted in agriculture, hay and flowers, small towns and woods, and the mind games of souls not physically present but lingering somewhere in the corners of the boy’s eyes, following him forever, even into nowhere, even into here.

dialogue ; #0a0a07 / #807a60 word count ; 661/200 mention ; @Angel Dayes

<sub>"Angel, Angel Dayes, charmed." she said quickly with a soft touch with the word charmed. Introductions aside the boy seemed or was more energetic than he already was before. Did he became more enlighten? Surely something happened that made interested with the whole thing. Again she was quite amused maybe even intrigued even. Sebastien Knox. Sounded quite grounded and rather fancy, that was her assumption though. Not knowing much about the boy herself he was distant. Was every pure blood like this? No assumptions are very dangerous and likely the boy himself didn't really want to bring himself so much attention.

"You seem troubled. Lots in your mind right now?" she asked

"Can't blame you, especially now right? Sometimes I wish I can be back at Wales. But in order to grow we change and adapt, and sometimes we go back to the way we were to make a change of pace too! Goes both ways." Angel said but stopping herself afraid she might've let more than she could keep. Truth be told she can't always be this open. Wanting to add on to her statement she spoke again

"Well we always want to change for the better." and that was the phrase that tied her sentence together.

"Oh sorry! Talking too much am I? Please tell me if I need to tone it down, really I don't mind! Sometimes I spill too much." she put her hands slightly in the air.

Angel can be quite animated sometimes to make a point, expressing what she says if it's hard to translate her thoughts into words. Noticing her attention derailed to grab a red lollipop, it kept her focus although she could do without it. Being a Dhampir is hard than it already was. If most people could guess she was that was fine no need to try explaining anything. Many different acquaintances she met from getting her supplies to well she'd include now. New faces and potential enemies, rivals, allies, and friends. This was certainly getting interesting with a smile that was showing she was overall excited now maybe jittery too. No words could really express how much she was looking forward to their arrival now.

"I'm from Caerphilly Wales. The South Valleys. I do gardening and into culinary arts." she says, hoping to keep the conversation from going quiet.

Angel was many things but reading minds was not one of them or being a bit more flavourful with her tone or speech. Coming off rude or blunt sometimes, going as far as annoyed or irritated when speaking. Angel hated that. Feeling like she needed to be chipper or boisterous when she felt her raspy casual tone was natural. Her parents would always ask her to at least be more clear in her tone. It wasn't like she had bad manners or gave people trouble, many people regarded her as well mannered and poised. Angel was a person to be laid back although you can never really see it in her. Wanting to flow like the wind, yet again she's adaptive and when action should be taken it will, when it was the right time. Angel was not the person to be acting then thinking first. Which somehow annoys a person for some reason though she never knows why. Is it not better to think things through?

"I do wonder if this train is big enough to carry every children? Maybe it's magical after all, I suppose."

Looking over to her bag she quietly unzipped it and swiftly grabbed a small sketchbook. Very handy for quick sketches and small drawings she grabbed a pencil as well and drew the little clouds in the skies.

“I’m not one to talk about myself so much but it doesn’t seem all that bad to introduce yourself.” she said her voice trailed attentive to her task at hand.</sub>

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Time slipped past his ebony fingers like water from the small, quick rivers near his home – not large enough to impress like those in the Amazon, but just enough to make you feel as if you have lost control as they ran through the gaps in your palms. Although the conversation formed slowly, thread by thread, word by word, and question after question, even the silence between words was filled with internal wonderings and thoughts about what was to come and what awaited in the near future of that September day, which filled the time spent on the train and made it unbearably fast. After little thought, the boy, sitting in the empty yet cramped compartment, gave in and let the river’s flow swallow his hands, immersing himself fully in the experience. His anxieties slowly slipped away, but like dirt immune to washing, his awkward and dry image remained a stain.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ With his compartment partner’s introduction, as if her words were the ringing of a bell that brought him back to life, he raised his eyes from his fidgety fingers, which clung desperately, trying not to drown in the waters of nervousness.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Nice to meet you too,” he said, his head tilting down in a small nod as he desperately tried to put on a sheep’s facade, hoping to match the softness she had given the word “charmed.” Yet he failed miserably, the sentence leaving him with what felt like a screech against a chalkboard.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ He would have looked past it, hoped the girl would brush over it or not hear the attempt in his voice, if not for her next question, which hit him like a blow to the stomach. Of course, she hadn’t intended it that way, yet it made him doubt his entire facade. Was it not convincing enough? Had he left cracks in his carefully crafted expression? Or was the giveaway his restless hands, a trait he had not yet learned to master? Either way, her question rang out sharply; in his mind, he probably heard it even sharper than she had meant it, and she seemed kind, not at all ill-intentioned. “You seem troubled. Lots on your mind right now?”
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Oh… No, there’s no need to get yourself in a twist. I’m fine, not troubled so far into the journey,” the boy said, his lips quivering into a slight attempt at a smile, lying. The lie slipped out easily and smoothly, practiced over time at home. He certainly wasn’t an amateur at it.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ The words that flowed quickly from her mouth seemed to snap him out of his trance, in which he was internally proud of the smooth lie he’d told, and, it seemed, had brushed off any suspicion she might have had about what was on his mind. Angel’s words were like an arrow, carefully aimed and shot at the target; they hit the bullseye, and for Sebastien, hurt as much as a bullseye would.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ "Oh sorry! Talking too much am I? Please tell me if I need to tone it down, really I don't mind! Sometimes I spill too much,” she said, seemingly catching herself mid-sentence, and Sebastien just stared at her for a second, confused. So many words had spilled out of her mouth that he did not know where to focus first; his eyes kept darting around her face, searching for a feature – a part of the sentence to focus on.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ The latter part seemed more inviting and fit the image of himself he had painted in his mind. It did not require much thought to answer and was crafted in a way that made it easy to lie, so he responded to her concern about herself:
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ "Don’t worry," he said, shaking his head and acting quickly to reassure his fellow passenger. "I don’t mind... I–I mean, I am not much of a talker myself, as you can see," he chuckled quietly, though the makeshift laugh sounded more like a sigh at his own lack of ability to talk to people. "But I really do not mind listening to you talk," he finished, offering her another one of those smiles that hid misery and sharp wolf teeth beneath it. He hoped his sycophantic response would help him ingratiate himself with the girl, to gain her favor, because she was the only one he had talked to so far. She could possibly be the only one who would be this nice to him during his upcoming time at Hogwarts.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ He watched as her hands flew in front of his eyes, and out of nowhere, a red lollipop appeared in her grasp. It was the color of blood; the boy knew that shade too well from his nightmares to mistake it. He just stared, shaken – now there was no doubt she was at least somewhat of a vampire, perhaps a descendant dhampir. Though he said nothing, he kept his mouth shut, pretending to be as clueless as a deer in headlights, hoping that might work in his favor later.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ And just like that, jumping from one subject to the next with no time to ponder or sit in silence, she began telling him where she was from and what she enjoyed doing in her spare time. Sebastien had little idea how someone’s mind could move that fast, and it took him a moment to collect his thoughts and nod, staring like an absolute fool.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “That’s… nice. I’ve never been there. Those activities could certainly come in handy here at Hogwarts and in life. I suppose you are much more practical than I will ever be,” he said, his mind slipping into the ruts of his grandfather’s thinking, who always found Sebastien’s activities pointless and doomed. His grandfather would certainly like this girl, Sebastien thought, silently analyzing her manners. He probably needed to be more like her, even though she annoyed quite a lot, and in his daily life he would avoid people like her entirely.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Her thoughts once again derailed; it seemed she had been saying whatever came to mind, from train size to rummaging in her bag to pull out a small sketchbook, whose pages looked far from new – flipped through at least a dozen times, though still kept in fairly good condition. Sebastien’s eyes drifted curiously down to the notebook in the girl's hands. He did not say anything, just stared silently, awkwardly pondering what to say next.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Then her final remark slipped out, and he nodded. Seizing his chance to join the conversation, to which he had contributed barely anything so far, he murmured:
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “There is no need to worry. You are an interesting person. If it were anyone else, it would be fine for them to be quiet, but when you have things to say, I do not mind listening,” he said casually, not even realizing how his words might have offended the “anyone else” he had in mind. “I cannot say we have much in common. I do not garden or cook, nor do I draw,” he said, gesturing awkwardly at the sketchbook. “And I live in Oxford… I read and walk. I seldom talk or create. I cannot say I mind it much, but some people would definitely prefer me to have different interests,” he added, now rambling more to himself than to the girl in front of him. He had not said this much since they started talking, and now it seemed he was oversharing, offering up words that were never needed in a first meeting.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ The words flowed like water from his mouth, an unstoppable river he had received through his hands, coming full circle – a snake eating itself, being fed yet dying slowly. He had done the same, and it forever repeated the same cycle of starting and ending, both in the worst ways possible, as if he had been born doomed to fail. His lips were coated in water from the words that had left his mouth, and it would soon dry and be forgotten, yet the impact would leave a stain for much longer. At least for now, that stain was not poisonous.

dialogue ; #0a0a07 / #807a60 word count ; 1351/200 mention ; @Angel Dayes

<sub>Angel laughed at Sebastien's timidness and she find it quite endearing. For the first time she was able to have her face express something other than nonchalant or reserved but bright and a big smiled painted her face as something pleasant or resilient. Her laugh was big and loud. Her eyes flickered into his eyes and her gaze met. This boy was seemingly honest and being with someone who was kept to self or reserved too was something Angel longed for. Sometimes her outspoken persona can be a toll as she is a person who can be both outgoing yet quiet too. Knowing that someone took an interest in her topics was a breath of fresh air. Who knew someone found her as a interesting person?

This feeling was new, in fact she got caught off guard. Does it have a name? Did it ever had one? Will it ever find her? This person never found her uncanny or anything alike. Instead he listened to her words. With great interest. From her demeanor to the way she spoke her words with great resonance he never felt nervous about it, he didn't mind. Sebastien never found her cynical, because she feared due to her well off upbringing and decent life people thought she was a snobbish girl who was carefree and she hated that. Stereotypes and assumptions never sat well with her. Angel tried to be more casual people thought she was blunt and aggressive, elegant and proper, and contemplative. Always the one to find middle ground she find it hard to even please people sometimes. Nothing was expected of her, at least not the expectations to make her busy. But she learned not everyone can be pleased and sometimes hatred was something the preparator has to find out themself.

The train moved with great speed as the wind moved with it. Closing her eyes she wanted to concentrate and focus. But putting her pencil at rest she felt like she couldn't. Her mind restless and body too. Now the tables had certainly turned. It was her turn to feel nervous and confused. Maybe she felt nervous around the boy? Not at all his presence was just fine.

"Uhm— I am quite flattered by your assessment..." she said quietly keeping her head higher still

"You know, I think your quite interesting as well. It's fine to be simple in a world full of people doing just too much." she said with a much different tone higher pitched maybe a little rushed

"This boy really is different from what I expected too."

"Living in Oxford huh? That place always interested me. I believe it has a abundance of buildings yes? Caerphilly never had so much buildings but it was still plenty especially for a small place I lived in." she said

The conversation was at best a bit of a collaboration. Angel was completely opposite of Sebastien, she was one much for words and quite alright to be a spokesperson. She can try to keep a social setting afloat and she did. But being a chipper and highly social person, Angel sometimes find herself keeping her tongue inside. It was hard for her sometimes to talk when she didn't have the time or energy in her voice to do so. Everything was new. With him she felt like she can just say phrases or able to say anything long or short. She had time and wasn't placed in a time. Angel could catch her breath and can take her own pace.

"I know it's a bit too early, but I think I would like us to be more than strangers. Pheraps aquaintinces but maybe friends? If your up to that sort of thing I certainly don't mind at all." she glanced at the window

Being with another person different from her have her a own challenge and riddle to work with. Angel found herself stuttering sometimes especially if she's nervous or shocked and flustered. This guy really gave her a hard time to keep herself steady. Whenever stressed she can find her legs tapping and her lips covered by her index finger. If anything changes Angel hoped she'll find out a way to sit still.</sub>