[Open] A venture of rain
Posted: Wed Nov 07, 2018 4:55 pm
mid-afternoon
31 Dentis 2718
Gale swayed as they escaped the steam boat. Grimacing they joined the various passengers that looked to leave the vessel and set foot upon the solid ground of Old Rose Harbour. There was a wince, the faint pattering of moisture as the skies threatened to open and release a downpour. Grimacing, the smith trundled their way down the planks, eyes catching the lingering look of the various Seventen who were stationed here. They seemed largely disinterested, more annoyed by the turning of the weather as the autumn continued to pass on by. The smith did not dally, folding up and securing the booked return ticket. It was due in a few days, which was hopefully more than enough for them to find what they needed to find, and quickly escape this more illicit city.
On the flip side, at least Gale could get away with carrying slightly more openly here – at least based on the implication Corwynn gave her last season. It did not mean she did not exercise caution however, the firearm was tucked behind her coat, which in turn was mostly buttoned up. She would have to physically reach into it to draw, but it still would be a shock – or six – when Liberator was drawn.
The stomach knotted, clenching briefly. The sound of cracking shots rattled in their ears, a memory but still very much real.
It should not come to that. Just keep your head down, get what you need to get and leave. And don’t get into trouble.
Footsteps clacked against the earth, shrugging deeper into their coat as the chill cut. The pattering of droplets were beginning to grow more intense now, the bodies of other pedestrians picking up the pace. The smith trudged along however, head turning, feet sloshing in the growing puddles. As the weather tipped, the hiss of rain coming down, the smith trudged onwards. Leather grew damp, hair slick against her skull, the annoying twitch upon her lips as she ducked beneath an overhang.
Shaking out her head, the soaked features studied the street. She had planned to follow the main road down to the markets, sticking to the obvious through traffic – from there they could get directions to the so called Mad Queen. Not that the smith knew exactly what to expect there, they were told to simply slide a note across the counter with a muttering of ‘The Gentleman sends his regards’ and begin to play the waiting game.
The smith adjusted the weight of their pack, hearing the faint rattle of tools within the base of it. Perhaps they did not have their forge near by, but it did not mean they were about to go out into the open without the basics to hand. Who knew what they would end up expecting in the city? Fingers pushed back the fringe that gathered in their eyes, blinking away the droplets that gathered on eyelashes.
“Well this is shit,” the smith spat. They fumbled for their tin of cigarettes and upon find them mostly dry, promptly lit one up to smoke. The end smouldered away as they waited, head leaning too and fro as they waited for it to ease. Above the tin roof grew louder; she was certain the rainfall was starting to turn to hail by the sheer volume of it all. Others in the street scattered, others pounding their way down the road while others hurried inside.
Gale however, had no such luxury. Tutting, she took a long drag of it, held it, and then exhaled. Clothing in places begun to cling uncomfortably, the free hand peeling the fabric that stuck away. Another mental note was added to the list of things to do: find lodging, dry off and do not catch a cold. The plume of smoke was exhaled, “Come on, hurry up and ease you bastard.”
On the flip side, at least Gale could get away with carrying slightly more openly here – at least based on the implication Corwynn gave her last season. It did not mean she did not exercise caution however, the firearm was tucked behind her coat, which in turn was mostly buttoned up. She would have to physically reach into it to draw, but it still would be a shock – or six – when Liberator was drawn.
The stomach knotted, clenching briefly. The sound of cracking shots rattled in their ears, a memory but still very much real.
It should not come to that. Just keep your head down, get what you need to get and leave. And don’t get into trouble.
Footsteps clacked against the earth, shrugging deeper into their coat as the chill cut. The pattering of droplets were beginning to grow more intense now, the bodies of other pedestrians picking up the pace. The smith trudged along however, head turning, feet sloshing in the growing puddles. As the weather tipped, the hiss of rain coming down, the smith trudged onwards. Leather grew damp, hair slick against her skull, the annoying twitch upon her lips as she ducked beneath an overhang.
Shaking out her head, the soaked features studied the street. She had planned to follow the main road down to the markets, sticking to the obvious through traffic – from there they could get directions to the so called Mad Queen. Not that the smith knew exactly what to expect there, they were told to simply slide a note across the counter with a muttering of ‘The Gentleman sends his regards’ and begin to play the waiting game.
The smith adjusted the weight of their pack, hearing the faint rattle of tools within the base of it. Perhaps they did not have their forge near by, but it did not mean they were about to go out into the open without the basics to hand. Who knew what they would end up expecting in the city? Fingers pushed back the fringe that gathered in their eyes, blinking away the droplets that gathered on eyelashes.
“Well this is shit,” the smith spat. They fumbled for their tin of cigarettes and upon find them mostly dry, promptly lit one up to smoke. The end smouldered away as they waited, head leaning too and fro as they waited for it to ease. Above the tin roof grew louder; she was certain the rainfall was starting to turn to hail by the sheer volume of it all. Others in the street scattered, others pounding their way down the road while others hurried inside.
Gale however, had no such luxury. Tutting, she took a long drag of it, held it, and then exhaled. Clothing in places begun to cling uncomfortably, the free hand peeling the fabric that stuck away. Another mental note was added to the list of things to do: find lodging, dry off and do not catch a cold. The plume of smoke was exhaled, “Come on, hurry up and ease you bastard.”