"Of course it would have to be water.  Flooding in New Orleans, a bridge washed out in Tennessee, and now this. Why can't I ever catch a break from water." Elysia grouched to herself under her breath, recounting upon how she really, seriously does not like water in larger amounts than a cup of water, or any used for cooking.  As she is grumbling about this, she gathers up her stuff, packing away her book, and unplugging herself from her bag, the wire coiling bag into the recesses of the bag.  She then walks on board, obviously not at all happy about being this close to that much water, finding a seat that is decidedly a good distance away from any of the railings.  Any who glance her way can see that she is in what looks like a constant state of agitation.