Lethal River - piranhaprincess
[piranhaprincess]
The smell of the river settles on every corner of these docks. A smell of earthen rot, musky and thick, one that lingers upon the long-stagnant waters. To say it's an unpleasant smell would be giving it too much credit. Combined with the general decay of the crumbling city (Dunwall, spoken through lips caked with long-dried spit), the stench could only be described as a way similar to unbearable.
And yet here she is.
Miranda's eyes scan the waterfront with a sense of personalized scrutiny, feels her nostrils flare as they take in the smell (now considered an odor, one with which adaption was necessary). All around her stand husky men and women, matted and worn from wear of labor and donned with similar clothing, tattoos…members of a g a n g, perhaps?
Regardless, it's simple enough to avoid them (stick to rooftops, alternate pathways - how the stealth training and reconnaissance proves its worth to her time and time again), and soon Miranda finds herself overlooking the river in all its deadened glory, where the rot peaks and Miranda almost retches. Oh, how the heightened senses fail her here, leaves her practically gagging and swallowing a watery mouth, skin clammy and the light feels too bright.
It would the work of a miracle if Miranda doesn't vomit at least once.
Instead her eyes focus on the ship ahead of her, worn from use and age but otherwise functional, watches it totter against the occasional current. In particular, she focuses on the activity on deck, of the people that bustle in and out. It appears this ship has a crew.
And with every crew comes a captain.
