[When the teleporter releases him, an overpowering stench knocks Narvin back a few staggering steps. He crouches and buried his face--mask and all--in his arms and swears in Gallifreyan. He can usually identify chemicals in the air by smell, but this is too much, like trying to pick out the sound of violins over an atomic explosion.
It takes a few nanospans to adjust. He thinks his nose is just giving up and shutting down.]
no subject
It takes a few nanospans to adjust. He thinks his nose is just giving up and shutting down.]
Rassilon's ghost, they could have warned us.