"....I can't say I ever thought about it," neutrally, as if this is reasonable small talk.

"You haven't? You seemed friendly enough. ...I'm not going to lecture you, I should say. Just making conversation."

"We've talked but not--"

Is that an admission. Is Sal personally interested, does this make it safe to say things like 'I don't generally do that with men,' she can't tell.

He shrugs. "A pity," he says, not very seriously. "I could have complimented you on your taste."

Smile. "He does, admittedly, look good in red."

Smile. "I knew you'd agree."

Lately when Oscar sees people talking and can't quite hear, he has to fight the feeling it's about him. But Sal and Inaaya are nice kids-- good to know they're getting along.

He'll find a seat by himself and pretend to read, though he hasn't really accomplished much of that lately.

Meanwhile, between their shared flat and the train, Terrence is keeping his voice low but conversational. "So, what do you think the, the gameplan is? We could ask at a pub or the like about local sites of, let's say, historical interest. Or we could ask outright about Roby or other tourists."

"I would be careful about asking about Roby straight up. It's not a big place, and five people died-- the locals could be a bit touchy about it."

"...Excellent point. We'll just get the lay of the land, then, I suppose."

"I think once we're on friendly terms, we could probably ask about it."

"That's true. I'm sure it was quite the stir, we could probably find someone eager to share all they know."

He nods knowingly. "The bloodthirsty little old ladies."

"Exactly. Devout scholars of their own sphere.

And the site - it might be useful to see if we can find it - perhaps on our own, or under another lead - I don't know exactly what we glean from it, but I have some knowledge of ritual sites... Inaaya knows things... I don't know. Seems worth doing."

"...checking out the site would probably be worthwhile." If there are standing stones he's going to... punch the standing stones. Or some other dramatic expression of frustration.

"Good morning, are these seats taken?" Terrence sits down by Inaaya and Sal.

"Terrence, it is nearly 6pm," Sal says, not without affection.

"They are not! Good not-morning."

"This is the start of the academic morning, though."

Terrence blushes. "It's morning, in, uh, New York, at least."

He thinks about that for a second.

"Wait, no it's not. Dammit. ANYWAY how are you."

"Looking forward to our destination."

Rituals! Death! Ritual death!

"I hear the rural views there are very pleasant."

The beauty of the countryside is generally nationalist hogwash. (Seeing Jing Yi sitting with the rest of the group isn't great.)

Tired. Wishing the world were different than it is. She spent the last few days at work and with Joan-- and Thursday night at Elsie's, because Elsie and Simone have a work schedule better described as modern art-- and hasn't managed to stop thinking about the zoo lion for very long.

"I've been doing alright, mostly. Looking forward to being somewhere you can see the stars."

Astronomy, especially as practiced by Inaaya, is not nationalist hogwash.