| The Train. Normally, its quite the thing. Its a pleasant stroll through the British countryside from Wales to Scotland. Except at the last exchange a porter came to mention that his baggage didn't make the transfer. They're terribly sorry and they'll be sure to have it for him the day after he arrives. No, really! Oh and did I mention it was raining? So much for the view of the pleasant countryside. The pair at least had a berth to themselves so they could talk shop. Delays had meant the trip was pushing into six hours and they weren't even halfway there. Sigh. Lohengrin had spent the last twenty minutes engaging in a staring contest with the upholstry opposite him.
"You do realize, of course, that I will forever associate buggered train rides with you," Ash said without looking at him. She stared out the window at the rain soaked countryside and bruised skies. Her voice was soft and deep; it's always impossible to tell if she was kidding or not by her tone alone. She sat opposite Lohengrin in the berth, her legs crossed, her arms folded across her abdomen.
Lohengrin blinks. Its hard to win staring contests with chairs. Their buttons don't blink. He closes his eyes tightly a moment to force them to rest before looking over at Ash. "You're the student of fate. You tell me. Whose beer did you piss in or did I cock up something at work and some vampire thought I was getting too cheeky?" His accent was hard to place. He spoke every major language on the isle and traveled a lot. It was a nice baritone, though, and he had a presence about him.
She turns her face toward Lohengrin and raises one finely shaped eyebrow. "There's no doubt you were getting cheeky," she stated matter-of-factly. She exhales a sigh and turns back to staring out at the chilly rain. "Everything happens for a reason," she softly says. "We're going to Edinburgh and maybe something doesn't want you there in a timely matter." One corner of her mouth pricked up into a wry smirk and she looked to Lohengrin. "You're still on your quest." Her dark eyes seems glassy and unfocused. Ash's gaze seemed to look through him at something else, examining him as if he were a smaller part of some greater whole, something grand and nigh-unknowable.
That thought brings a certain pause to Lohengrin's expression. His brow knits and he leans back into his chair. "I was afraid you'd say something like that." He folds his arms across his chest and muses a moment. "I suppose I should thank Corbin for insisting you come along with me." Lohengrin was surprisingly capable with a blade.. for a Ladder acolyte anyway. "But since he's not here, I'll thank you instead." He turns a wry smile her way. "Of course, you know what this means don't you?" A beat. "I'm all the more determined to get there." Leave it to an Obrimos to relish the thought of facing that which doesn't want him there.
"It doesn't matter how eager you are: your doom will meet you at the appointed time." Again it was hard to tell if she was deadly serious or being flippant. Regardless, it seemed to be the truth of the situation, even it was morose. "You may tour around with me until your baggage turns up," she offered. "I wouldn't be doing Corbin -- or Aoife -- any favours if I allowed you to roam the city streets with no money, no identification, not even a change of clothes." She seemed more concerned with disappointing her own Master, Aoife, than she did with doing you or Corbin any favours. "Your mí-ádh had better not rub off onto me."
"Hey, I've got my id... and.. eighty seven pounds." Lohengrin had to double check. Make sure something else hadn't gone missing in the last twenty minutes he'd spent brooding with a seat cushion. "Now lacking spare trousers? That will be a problem. Though if you wouldn't mind my borrowing a jacket we could make a stop by a laundrette in a pinch." Hey, at least he still has his sense of humor. "Come now. It can't be that bad. I'm hardly of any great significance." Not yet anyway. Perhaps someone was afraid of the future? "I'm touched that you care so much." He places a palm over his heart.
Ash half-smiles, half-pouts. She shifts in her seat and makes her self comfortable, leaning her head back against the headrest. She thoughtfully eyes Lohengrin through half-lidded eyes for a brief moment, and then lets her eyes fall closed. If this train ride was going to be bajanxed any further, she wanted to get plenty of rest to refuel her patience before they arrived in Edinburgh.
A nap. Lohengrin had napped already. In lieu of that, he took up the paper he'd bought at the last stop and shook it open. If he was lucky, it might last him an hour. With the crossword. "My apologies for that. I promise I won't tell a soul." Because Moros don't have feelings, right? He smiled to himself as he considered the resting Legionnaire then turned his attention to the paper.