Rebekah was homesick, or at least that's what she assumed this longing was. She hadn't ever been away from home, not without a set return date. She knew that at around her age, Midgardians left home in a quest for themselves, and there were plenty of others, in Asgard even, who would leave at around her age but her father had been almost a hundred years old before he was allowed to join the military, and several hundred years old when he joined Prince Thor, Prince Loki, Lady Sif, and the Warriors Three. It was extremely unusual that Rebekah would be allowed on Midgard of all places when she was merely 17 years of age. 

Except for the fact that Tyson Lokison factored into the equation. As a prince of Asgard, he did need protection on any sanctioned mission but Rebekah was the only one who was part of the Royal Guard who was remotely qualified. She also couldn't lie, so if they wanted to check up on him she'd have to tell them truthfully. She didn't really like that bit, after all they were nothing like their parents, so why judge Tyson by that standard? Rebekah had brought this up to her father before she left but Fandral simply stated that she was young and that she didn't understand yet. Which she was young, and didn't understand a lot of things but this is something she didn't feel as if she would budge on. 

Rebekah tore her mind away from Tyson Lokison, as it would do her no good to dwell on him and what she has left behind but rather to look forward. There were other's on the vehicle, all from Midgard though. Mostly male, although that wasn't anything new. She suspected it had less to do with sexism though and more with genetics, since she highly doubted any of them chose to be stuck with their abilities. It didn't affect much, just something to tuck away in her mind. 

Finally they stopped moving, just as she felt like her home sickness could morph into moving sickness, as she was the first one off the 'bus'(at least she thought that's what it was titled, she wasn't sure), as she was sitting near the front. She hated the inactivity of sitting for so long and was glad to be off it, but even more glad when she saw the building. It looked, almost, like it could have been from Asgard. She knew this wasn't the purpose, of course, but it still made her homesickness go away a bit. 

Rebekah was bouncing on her feet as the other's emerged from the vehicle and formed a herd behind the man titled Jarvis, which was quite an odd name but then again so was Tyson. Midgardian names, something she was not used too, but probably should familiarize herself with, since she would be spending an undetermined amount of time among them. Eventually everyone was off and they started moving. Rebekah positioned herself next to Tyson, mostly so she could talk to him. It would be lonely for the both of them if they weren't at least friendly with each other. 

"I wonder if the architect had ever been to Asgard. It looks like home, almost." Rebekah said in a quiet town, still listening to Jarvis give the tour of their new home. She could feel her body relax a bit, she had wound herself up but now that she was actually here, she could see herself maybe enjoying it. 

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David Ward sat near the middle of the bus, not paying much attention to anyone on the bus. He had his laptop out on his lap and was chatting with Skye, or more accurately trying to hack her computer before she hacked his and them sending each other messages as they did so. Skye nearly always won but it was something that he could share with her, since she was basically his surrogate mother. She had to log off though, about ten minutes before he arrived at the school so it worked out quite perfectly. He followed a few others off the bus and stood off to the side a bit. There were all sorts here, from some particularly broody fellows to a hyperactive teenage girl. He knew he should reserve judgment until he actually got to speak to them but still, first impressions were rather important and he’d much rather be at home, eating what Skye called Una agradable sorpresa, which was just her throwing stuff in a frying pan and hoping it turned out good.