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Rivka's fingers drifted along a piano that no one could see, keeping time to a piece that no one could hear.

Herself included. Her earbuds were tucked away in her pocket. They would have been in the way of any instructions she needed to hear, or the first words from the four other girls in the car. Not that it kept her from keeping her eyes closed while her fingers tapped out a melody on her outstretched legs. The airship had been nice, but she felt... cramped. At least she had been able to unpack a little, practice the depressingly few instruments she had been able to bring with her. Mutiny had been a heartbeat away when they told her she couldn't bring her target pistol. On an intellectual level she understood the concern about bringing an unaffiliated firearm on any transport that would bring her to the academy. On a personal, reproachful level she thought that if they couldn't stop a single girl with a .22 sport pistol from unpacking and loading it, let alone firing it, then humanity was in much worse shape than she thought.

She missed the chance to practice. She wouldn't admit it out loud but growing rusty with her firearms felt as awful as her instruments would. Part of her ritual was missing, something that she did if not every day then as often as she could. It was unnatural. The escorts didn't bother her, the confinement didn't bother her, nor did these new locales that she traveled through. But that disruption got under her skin.

Probably, she mused to herself, she should chat up the others. She had listened and watched through half closed eyes in silence as they found their own seats but she had yet to acknowledge them. Probably rude. Her luggage was piled in front of her, the largest case providing a rest for her feet that admittedly required her to slouch way down in her seat and elevate them both above her head. Whoever designed suitcases, shockingly, had not considered putting them at below seat height. By all rights she should have been uncomfortable and in half an hour she probably would be. For now the unorthodox position was stretching her spine very pleasantly.

[color=8407c2]"Sokolov. Rivka."[/color] She drew her name out lazily, lending a stretched, musical lilt to her pronunciation. [color=8407c2]"Privet."[/color]

She certainly was [i]big[/i], that first speaker. Selma. That was what she said. The other two seemed a little withdrawn, if not nervous, and she wondered if that was because trees didn't walk where they were from. This one had evidently learned, and picked up a bubbly personality while she was at it. Then Chie and Crystal, in order. Her fingers slowly tapped again as the big girl reminded her of some piece of music somewhere, a tune she could not name. Hm.

[color=8407c2]"If it's no trouble, [i]bol'shaya devochka[/i], you could help me stow my instruments."[/color]

She pulled herself upright in a single motion with eyes finally open, planting her feet squarely on the floor and absently adjusting any purple strands that had gotten out of place during her recline. The hard case at her feet received a gentle nudge. [color=8407c2]"If you can do so gently, Miss Selma. They let me bring so little that I would hate to lose what they did."

"A pleasure to make all of your acquaintances. I think we'll get along fine."[/color] She added, glancing around the car. Despite being willing to keep talking, she found she... Didn't have any small talk to make. Hm. [color=8407c2]"Has anyone learned the school anthem yet?"[/color]

Her fingers were already finding the note progression on her leg.