The full seasonal event can be read here! Below are the main seasonal items for quick reference:
1. A thread reacting to the season's weather in some ways.
2. A thread in the part of the city your character doesn't live in!
3. A thread relating to your vocation.
Of The Season
Quote
"Tell Dr. Nate that Gale sent you, and he still owes me for the mushrooms. Except that it takes you a while to reach the clinic, and by the time you do your fever is spiking, and so instead of the requisite message you instead tell the poor soul who greets you that 'A gale'a m'shrooms sent me cus'a my hands.'" - Zephyr in Oh help me, please doctor, I'm damaged
The day dawns wet and rainy (of course), but Maven doesn't mind. Every year, when Drenak rolls around, she's forgotten what it's like to be soaked to the bone day in and day out, and for a while, she actually likes the rain - the way it looks, the way it smells, the way it sounds. The constant pitter-pat of the droplets on the roof soothes her in a way she can't quite describe. Even later in Drenak, when she begins to pray for sunlight again, that sound grounds her in her darkest moments. It always has.
The Drench is dull and dismal in the rain, dark in the shadow of the plates high above. It's early enough in the season that flooding is unlikely, but the threat unnerves her all the same. She hurries through the streets, her hood pulled up over her blonde hair, her coat wrapped tightly around her lean body, her boots splashing despite her best efforts to skirt the deeper puddles.
Today is a volunteer day at Nate's clinic. Maven doesn't know the man well, but she does appreciate that he lets her help in his clinic, even though she lives on the plates. Most Drenchers wouldn't trust her, but Nate has given her a chance, and she admires him for that. She walks through the door and shrugs off her coat, trying (and failing) to keep from tracking water and mud in alongside her. "Good morning," she tells the other doctor when she sees him. She doesn't know what else to say, though, so she simply picks up a stack of charts, like she always does, and begins skimming through.
I always thought that I’d die young make some money, be someone
Buzzing overhead lights are softened by the addition of an old fashioned oil lamp, a relic Nate had dug out just for the season, the slight bit of warmth it added to the damp air. He's expecting a busier day than usual, preemptively glad for the extra help he has coming in. And just as that thought crosses his mind, the bell above the door tinkles. "Morning Maven." He returns warmly, pulling his mask up to hide the scabbing around his mouth.
"Aren't you a bit early?" He questions, standing up from behind the desk and stepping around to peer over her shoulder at the charts she'd grabbed. "Not that I'm complaining." A soft chuckle leaves Nate as he leans back. "S'gonna be a busy day." With whatever plague was spreading around the Drench he was expecting to fill up quickly, and already had bottles of ointments and pain relievers prepped. The clinic itself though was less put together, still showing signs of the day before.
Humming, Nate glances around. "D'you mind helping me tidy up?" He asks first, meaning to use the time to get to know his new assistant better. She was a strange choice, but Nate found he had been making more and more of those lately.
they all love you when you’re gone but who knew life would be so long?
The charts Maven grabs are all the same: complaints of the sores, the diarrhea, the fever. More of the plague and no signs of it stopping any time soon. "A little early," she admits. "The commute was easier than usual today. I'm not sure why. But you're right - it seems like we're going to stay busy for a while." She sighs, straightening the charts and returning them to their proper place. Almost instinctively, she grabs the next pile of papers and straightens those, too. When Nate invites her to help tidy up, she smiles, grateful and pleased to have been asked. She likes things to be orderly and enjoys the process of organizing. "Of course."
Maven moves to a nearby counter, where she begins to arrange different tests and medications into orderly stacks. She still isn't sure what to say; if someone asks her a question, she can answer it, but she's always been abysmal at small talk. It seems inappropriate, though, to ask something deep, like, 'why do you let me volunteer here?' So in the end, she settles for something simple. "I don't think I've asked - how long have you been practicing here?"
I always thought that I’d die young make some money, be someone
Footprints that had been muddy the day before have dried to dirt, a few firm strokes of a broom loosening them and escorting them towards the door. "Think maybe there's just fewer people out." Fewer people around in general, though the thought is too grim to actually voice, his jaw working and grinding it out of his mind.
The broom is put away in a closet behind the reception desk, Nate trading it in for a mop and a shallow bucket. He fills it with clean water and some harsh smelling cleaner and gets to work on the floors, the smell filling the space and making it feel a little cleaner somehow.
Nate blinks, surprised by the question, then pinches his brows as he casts his mind back. "Ten... eleven years?" Somehow it seemed too long to say, but like far less time than it felt. Almost half his life. "I uh, apprenticed somewhere else for a few years after I was done rotation, but I ended up here after my dad kicked me out." It's a story that comes out casually, all but common among his peers. He forgets it may sound harsh to someone who hadn't grown up in the Drench.
they all love you when you’re gone but who knew life would be so long?
The vials and bottles are easy to organize for someone with a practiced eye, and Maven has the counter organized in a jiffy. She turns to find Nate mopping the floor, and she tiptoes carefully around the areas he has already cleaned to find a spray bottle of cleaner and a few paper towels; she begins wiping down various surfaces, starting at the topmost shelves and working her way down to the counters. In truth, she should have done that before Nate began sweeping and mopping, but oh well - it will be cleaner than when they started, at least.
She frowns at the admission that Nate's father had kicked him out, feeling vaguely uneasy, as though she should offer some words of comfort. But the way he says it is matter-of-fact, almost emotionless, and in the end, she decides not to say anything. "You've been here a long time." Longer than Maven has been practicing, anyway. "I've only been practicing on the plates for a few years now. It's different from things down here."
I always thought that I’d die young make some money, be someone
“Well yeah.” Nate laughs despite himself, tongue dipping out between his lips as if it could wipe away the mistake. “Sorry.” There had been nothing in his tone to say he should be apologizing, but the thoughts that flitted through his head still felt rude enough to warrant it. After all, Maven was here, and that proved at least a handful of his less generous assumptions wrong. “We uh, fix different problems, I guess. You wouldn’t believe the folks that come down here when they need something they can’t get up top.”
The floor now good enough, Nate leans on his mop and watches his companion for the day, working his jaw. “It actually wasn’t my first choice. And getting this place was just.. luck.” A shoulder rolls in an easy shrug before Nate straightens up again, looking around the office.
“Its pretty nice in here now. Figure we’re ready to open?” He’s ready, but if there are any last minute worries Maven had this is her time to voice them.
they all love you when you’re gone but who knew life would be so long?
