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Chanel No.2
Topic Started: Jan 17 2016, 12:19 AM (204 Views)
Gale
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Assassination Extraordinaire

The pulsating surface squelched wetly as Gale put his foot down on it, multiple trails of muck sticking to the bottom of his boot as the assassin made his way forward with as much silent caution one could manage to gather striding through a sewage processing tunnel blanketed with dark-colored waste. The waste material, as Gale had discovered half an hour ago, was quite frankly terrible for moving silently and quietly, and even worse for people who wished to move cleanly. While Gale wasn't a germophobe, and saw no reason to be obsessed over such a trivial matter, he gave a silent thanks to his earlier decision in deactivating his external sensory suite. With the way the muck smelt with human senses, he could only imagine how crippling it would be when his olfactory capabilities were around that of a bloodhound. Decidedly gross, most likely.

Still, even without his enhanced olfaction the smell of the sewage pervaded into every crevice of his armor without any difficulty, and through his plugged nose a small desire to retch revealed itself at irregular intervals. The smell, truly, was something extremely unpleasant. And had this task not been an unusually well-paying one, for reasons that Gale felt he know understood fully, the assassin would not have stepped afoot into this place if he had the liberty in choosing.

Glancing over his shoulder, both to check if his companion was following him properly, and to ascertain that his rear was clear, Gale trudged onward, having spoken approximately two sentences to his current comrade-in-arms for the entire duration of the day so far. Sounds traveled rather well in tunnels, the assassin had found before, but perhaps the ever-pulsating waste plastered onto the walls and the floor dampened some of it?

Regardless, he was not one for small talk, and whatever information that had to be exchanged between the two had already been communicated earlier. Unprompted chatter only served to distract himself, and to draw attention to himself, which usually meant danger. Besides, what good would there be even if small talk was exchanged? Gale had little to contribute if it came to everyday topics, assuming that was what small talk commonly consisted of, and even if he did his character was far from a sociable, pleasant one.

He glanced over his shoulder once again, the second time in a minute, and came to a stop as a fork in the sewage pipes appeared to his right. The map he had consulted minutes earlier had marked the correct pathway as the one that followed the right turn, before continuing into a series of transfers into a larger sewage main, until the two emerged at the central processing plant of this sector. He was certain of this, having gotten accustomed to memorizing directions many years before due to the nature of his "work".

Turning his body so that it was pointed towards the correct path and looking to his companion, Gale spoke, his voice bouncing softly within the dimly-lit pipes. He forced down a wince - he hadn't meant to speak in anything more than a whisper.

"Do you remember the right way forward?"
Edited by Gale, Jan 17 2016, 12:20 AM.
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Inara Serra
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Honesty without tact is cruelty.

Ah yes, once again her loving guild family had seen fit to send Snow on the absolute worst possible assignment they could have thought of. She was paired with a taciturn fellow she had met once before, though she couldn't quite recall his name. Something wind-ish. Breeze? Nope. She didn't give it much thought, though that might have been a good distraction from her current predicament. Their current predicament one might say, but she was sure she was getting the brunt of this one.

Having heightened senses was usually a bonus. Not today! The stench of waste in these sewers was enough to make her want to wretch. It was stuck in her nose, despite the fact that she had long ago tied a piece of cloth around the bottom half of her face to keep the worst of the smell at bay. It was not something she would wish on anyone. Except perhaps her worst enemy. Then again, human detritus in all its forms usually stunk to the high heavens, and occasionally beyond. This though, this was concentrated.

Her companion was silent. Which was fine by her. She didn't actually feel the need to converse right now if it could be helped. She didn't have issues with germs either, and she wasn't squeamish by any means, but everyone had their limits. This was pushing her own. The sheer amount of raw sewage through which they walked was disgusting enough. Feeling her boots (the sensible sort for once) squelching through the yuck was enough to make her hate this place.

Like Bluster (nope that's not it either), she was stuck into this though. She had no choice in the matter, so she was here, quite literally wading through shit, to do what must be done. Why she hadn't thought to bring along anything useful (like a gas mask perhaps, or the worlds largest can of Febreeze,) was beyond her. Oh yes, now she remembered. Because the details of the assignment had been brief, and vague, giving only bare bones information. She had known she was coming to a sewer, but she hadn't know she would be coming quite this damn deep into a sewer.

Snow winced with Gale (oh there it is.) as he spoke, sending small.echoes reverberating through the sewer system. She only nodded, pointing ahead of him. She was sure he was mostly asking to confirm she wasn't lost herself, moreso than because he was. She moved forward with him, sighing behind her make-shift mask. She really really had to have pissed someone off in the higher ups to deserve this fate. Blech.
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Gale
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Assassination Extraordinaire

Gale was less than surprised at the fact that his companion - Snow, if he had remembered her name correctly, which he was almost certain that he did - did not respond to his rather pitiful attempt at starting a conversation. In his own honest opinion, however, Gale didn't think too poorly of his attempt. Rather, it was probably the context being what it was that resulted in such a noticeable lack of small talk. Probably. Though if Haruto was anyone to trust, it really was just Gale himself being an extremely poor conversational partner in the end.

Ah well.

Pushing the issue to the depths of his mind and focusing once again on the mission at hand, the assassin moved deeper into the labyrinthine network of sewage mains and drainage pipes, turning at every odd ten few meters or so, the path he so readily took leading the duo more and more into the bowels of this public installation. After another half-hour of walking the tunnel lights - already dim and flickering beyond what seemed to be the kilometer mark - died out completely, a nearby light bulb bursting with a rather unexpected display of violence. Fortunately - or maybe even unfortunately, depending on the circumstances - the fragments of the light bulb hit the pulsating material on plastered on the walls, which had only grown thicker and possibly more active as they had gone deeper, and disappeared silently into the darkness.

As of now, each step that Gale took resulted in his armored boots sinking no less than five centimeter or so into the waste, the remaining being fully capable of supporting his body weight. With a squelch that seemed to grow louder after every step, despite the assassin's best efforts in silencing his footfalls, the end result of the mess was that the two mages, both highly skilled fighters in their own right, sounded each like a waterlogged, sandal-clad toddler. Except much, much stickier and at much greater risk of a bio-hazard.

Wrinkling his nose slightly at the emergence of a stench-laden draft that flowed down the pipelines, the assassin turned to Snow, intending to ask if she had brought a flashlight just as he had, before the draft abruptly turned into something wholly different. Something noticeably less irritating and notably more... chilling.

It was a chill that struck quick and deep, burrowing it's way through the skin, the flesh, the muscle, and embeds itself in one's bone. One that, despite the armor Gale wore and the skintight clothing he wore underneath that, and even the thick, heavy cloak that Gale had draped around his shoulders, penetrated into his marrow with ease.

Gale shivered involuntarily, his footsteps coming to a sudden stop as the draft ended as fast as it came. With a sharpened gaze, the assassin summoned his blade, a faint whistling accompanying the materialization of his sword, paused for a few seconds, and then motioned for Snow to follow as usual - but with more caution this time.

Something was off about these pipes - something that went far beyond pulsating waste.
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Inara Serra
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Honesty without tact is cruelty.

It was dank, disgusting, and more or less the second worst place Snow had visited thus far in her many and varied journeys. She moved as quietly as she could, which was to say not very quietly at all. The man before her seemed to be just as unhappy about all of this as she was, though it was hard to tell. Snow tended to end up hanging out with taciturn stern sorts of people more of than she might have liked. Or, maybe she ended up hanging out with them because she did like them. Who knew? Either way, she made a few assumptions, based on logic, about the sort of feelings he might be having about being in this place. The detritus which lined the walls and the floors still gave an obnoxious odor, even as all the lights in the place went out.

Just what she needed, she thought with a sigh. A dark place full of yuck in which to lose her way. It was lucky for her that her senses were heightened, and she could see some way in the darkness. That didn't make anything less gross. She paused as Gale did, hearing an unnatural hissing sound, which one might mistake simply for pipes rattling if they were trying to dispel uneasiness. Snow knew better. The pipes were buried beneath mounds of the disgusting slop here, and there was no hope in hell of the sound coming out anything but muffled, had that been the case. Gale's sword snaked out a moment later, and Snow was happy to stay behind him, allowing him to take point.

She brought her own blades to the forefront, making sure they weren't linked as she did so. It would be an awful thing, if she ended up sinking the chain into something disgusting. Either way, it wasn't as though they could sneak up on whatever might be down here with them. They sounded like elephants trudging through this muck, as their feet with every fall sank down into it above their ankles. The sickening sucking sound that accompanied each attempted move forward was the thing which made Snow want to gag. She held it together though, stoicly reminding herself that she was a professional, and she could do this.

After a few more steps though, she looked at Gale in the utter darkness. "I think whatever it is that is making that noise, is ahead and to the left." Her keen ears could hear it growing steadily louder in that direction, and then summarily easing away, as if it were fully aware it had been detected. She tried, in vain of course given current conditions, to move fast enough to keep pace with it. Instead she hoped it would come back to them. If it was what they were looking for, after all, that meant she could get the hell out of dodge.

As the saying goes, of course, it is wise to be careful what one wishes for. You just might get it.
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