Special Delivery: Rúsien & Erulissë

Rúsiєη
 -[ After the night in the gallery speaking with Fabienne and Wesley, Rúsien had made contact with some of her kin. That the outbreak was potentially supernaturally influenced (they didn’t have outright, direct evidence, but enough circumstantial variables to make it worth investigation) was disturbing. More so, when such figures as the literal incarnation of humanity’s Pestilence or alchemists and mages as potentially having some hand in all this. Her communications had reached what was known as present day Estonia – a land where her sect of elves originated from; where her sister yet dwelt. Their relationship was complicated – as a longtime bond of any kind with meaningful investment should be, she figured. It was natural in her mind that they had their disagreements, times of distance, and irreconcilable divisions. Yet, testament to other facets to their connection lay in the fact that when one or the other called in genuine need – as Rúsien had reached out to Erulissë – they answered. The nature of the contact was known only between the elven sisters, and that Erulissë was even arriving in Portree at all had not been shared to anyone. Why would she need to? She knew and trusted no one, not on a meaningful level yet. She didn’t owe it to her agency nor her new partner to divulge. So, the ivory-haired elf stood near a bus depot, watching the road – and soon, the approaching public transit. Rúsien’s mouth broke against its serious repose, cracking a smile to the right at the idea of her sister on a bus. While there was humor at the notion of some child staring the *entire* time at her elegant, elongated elven ears, Rúsien also felt for her younger sister who endured whatever exposure she would to humanity for the sake of her request. The elf stood in a black suit typical of her present occupation, though she’d put on heels for the function of peering passed any others waiting for arrivals. She didn’t care if *she* was an obstruction to anyone else. Where Rúsien had imagined Erulissë being pestered by a human child, it ended up being *herself* with some human offspring standing too close, staring upward unabashed. Her demeanor could hardly have been more uninviting as she felt the stare, but refused to deign meet the eyes of the youth to reward it – she didn’t even bother to check if it was male or female – or reward the parent who allowed their child to be so rudely unchecked. Slow breathing. It was a bit tedious to imagine that her dangerous work went to benefit snots like this one beside her. Maybe the outbreak could take him out? Everyone had their more vicious thoughts. Though, she was not an actual threat to the kid, nor his absentee parent, because *her* word *meant* something. And her word was connected to the pact set between human and elven governments. “Gurtha rato…[die sooner…],” she breathed quietly enough that the kid’s stubby ears couldn’t pick it up. A bus arrived.  Thank the fucking stars. ]-

Erulissë
֍ Through Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and Poland, and then to Berlin, Germany by way of train. Because, firstly the willowy seamstress considered, there was no way she was putting that much distance between herself and the Earth. More importantly-- private cabins. Airplanes were full of traveling humans. (So were trains, but for the right price, and just enough uncomfortable staring...one could find reasonable accommodations entirely alone.) Traveling humans packed into a small space were a special breed of hell. Their disgusting habits, nasally voices, and incessant small-talk were enough to make her feel like a true martyr, coming to her sister's aid in a time of need. When it came time to switch transits, Erulissë collected her belongings and moved swiftly out of her private cabin, into the hall, and out of the train to embark impatiently toward the next train in Berlin. She carried a heavy leather rucksack, slung casually across the length of her lithe frame whilst a pair of porcelain hands cradled a small parcel more carefully against her chest. Having to queue was the worst part of it all. A family with far too many red-haired children practically boiled over in the line for the next train. She stiffened, nostrils flaring, as one of their small children reached out a chubby hand toward her face. "Nuuta." she hissed under her breath, pale hues narrowing without any reservation for the feelings of the receiving end. Once safely stowed away in (again) her own private cabin, she felt like she could breathe again. From Berlin to Brussels, Belgium she slept. Or tried to. Was there no way to make ground transit quiet? The train, though modern, was running on rusty rails over uneven terrain. She occasionally watched the trees pass, imagining the land as it had been, before industrialization. Before humans. Rerouted from Brussels to Ostend, and from there, a short boat ride. Nothing to write home about, as Erulissë was fairly confident in her ability to swim if the boat went down-- and she didn't suffer from sea-sickness. Most of the others remained below decks, and in the crisp night air (too cold for them, she supposed) she stood on the deck and breathed in the spoondrift and communed with the velvet-black sky and glittering scintilla. It would refresh her spirits and bolster her for the rest of the trip. Arriving at the Port of Dover in the late hours of the night, most residents remained somnolent in their cabins, and the elf departed. To the nearest train station, toting her package and rucksack with an air of distinguished importance. In her mind's eye, she was a god damn Mensch, get correct. She stalked as such. The last leg of the trip was blessedly uneventful by train. From Dover to London and Leeds. The countryside was appealing, especially in the misty morning sunrise. Peachy-violet over mossy green hills and deep peet bogs. Lambs dotting the landscape and bleating at the rising sun as water collected in trails on the window. Erulissë hummed peacefully-- a melodic throat-singing to fill the silence of her solitary train-cabin. And then Leeds to Glasglow, non-stop. The last, short leg passed with insurmountably frustrating hiccups. Glasglow meant almost an entire deluge of it's riders into their corresponding routes. In her case, remaining aboard... to be walked in on by three separate groups. One containing a rather insistent Scottish gem whose name was unimportant and voice was fucking unbearable. She prayed it wouldn't be like this all around in Portree. "We loading in 'ere, ain't we?" she asked, forcing a cumbersome suitcase through the door. Erulissë used one long leg to block the path. "Taken." she offered in a careless common tongue. She stared up at them with piercing blue hues and an uncomfortable, alien stillness. "Train's full up, Miss! We're comin' in!" She announced, which had the lissome Elf drawing up to an imposing stand. "You will not be coming in. Ride in the Hall, or find some other car for your mice if you don't want them eaten." she spoke harshly, without reserve or concern for policing parties. She paid their fee, all she wanted was privacy. Shrinking back, the woman's eldest teenage daughter slid the door closed as the sound of her mother yelling for a steward echoed down the hall. She didn't hear from them for the remainder of the trip. A train ride, a small ferry, and finally, the final train ride. She assumed she'd be making the journey without a cramped tin-can space...such was not the case. The last bit of the trip was by god damn bus. It didn't matter where she sat, she was packed in with the lot of them (nosy Scot with forgettable name and all her brother-cousins included.) She was sneezed on. Her hair was pulled. She could smell someone's morning breath. The man beside her kept plucking up the hem of his shirt to pick at his belly-button lint. A blue-eyed cherubesque baby vomitted down the back of the seat in front of her. Woodenly, she shifted her knees to one side, cramming herself into the corner between the seat and the side of the bus. She opened the window and breathed in cold air, closing her eyes to stave off distraction. Someone had taken off their fucking shoes. It was absolutely wretched. When the bus pulled into the station, it took everything in her not to climb over the seats, shoving heads aside with a tack leather boot and clawing her way through the hellish inside of the bus. With reservation and determination, she reminded herself that the package to deliver had greater purpose than whatever extreme irritations she had to survive in order to deliver it. When she emerged, only Rúsien might have been able to discern her ire. Otherwise, the halo of space around her provided by uncomfortable riders had absolutely nothing to do with her charming disposition at all. "Quel undome, seler'." [Good Evening, Sister] Erulissë greeted her more militant sister with distinct pride. It was a relief to see her-- after all of that. If she hadn't taken up the fine title of "Officer", she'd have been where she ought to be-- away from the Pestilence, and they would have both been better for it. She couldn't mentally afford to hold all of that against her right now-- she needed the solace her sister's home would provide.֎