[@psych0pomp][@Prosaic]

Opportunity arched a sculpted eyebrow at the sudden appearance of even more potential passengers. A wide grin tugged at her lips, the habitual expression of someone who was thrilled with life rather than in reaction to any specific stimulus. One of the men was powerfully built although age had begun to soften his hard lines, the other was slender and freckled, with a touch of the aesthete to him. She pushed the door open with one foot but made no move to disembark to lower the stairs.

"Well it might be a bit of a squeeze, but I'm game if you are," she told the partygoers. 

"Come one, come all, on the express coach to Wilde Hall," she intoned as though reading poetry before the dean of Cambridge and guesturing theatrically with her hand for them to embark.