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
father, father, let me figure it out i'm gonna swim in the thick of it now, i can't even tell the difference now
Everything happens in a rush, a blur of bodies and people and shouts, and Sunjata’s too fucking drunk to be able to figure out how to get out of the crush. There are some attempts as the sober, hyped up enforcers corral them, trying to get out of them – explaining he’s a Plater (too afraid of how his father might respond to just go with it) when he steps just too far out of line, an enhanced baton from an Enforcer that doesn’t recognize him with the mask on, too amped to not go too far in keeping the crowd together, smacks against his ribs.
He's not in his Enforcer gear. He’s not even close to having any kind of padding against the baton with a little sharpened edge. So when it hits him, it hits him hard, knocking the breath out of his lungs and keeping him silent back into the mess of people, onto the tram down into the Drench, into the darkness below wholly unprepared and frankly? Terrified.
He doesn’t know where to go, unsure if he’s even welcome anywhere. He thinks momentarily about going to Nate’s clinic, doubting that he’d even be there in the first place – but some terribly sensitive part of him thinks he shouldn’t. He’s imposing. Nate and Adam had something going on and clearly Sunjata’s simply getting in the middle of a messy mix.
It keeps him away from the clinic for nearly the entire night. Enough that he wanders and tries to find some semblance of shelter in the alleys, only to find himself eventually sobering up (and ridiculously hungover), in pain, hungry, and feeling so much more like a burden than he had before.
An arm is held tightly to his side, his costume torn in places, half the gold pieces missing, and the mask gone somewhere (he doesn’t know where), the young Bratena heir finds himself reaching the door to the clinic, leaning against the doorframe with his shoulders hunched. He knocks twice, waits a heartbeat, just long enough to let the shiver of the chill from down here and how little he’s actually wearing, before he knocks again.
my head feels too loud sometimes like a monsoon in the summertime
The Drench is loud most nights, a constant background pulse that never quite peters out, but on a night like tonight it pulses, heavy and oppressive. Adam is drunk enough that he can sleep through the tension, sprawled out in Nate’s bed haphazardly while he putters, circling the minuscule floor space in his apartment to try and work off some of the discomfort.
All things considered, they’re lucky. Nate’s a lot of things, he will be the first to admit it, but he’s not stupid. No sooner did the enforcers start getting pushy than he was moving, tugging his friend along with him. They’re close enough to the front of the crowd to avoid the worst of the crush, though Nate still manages to take an elbow in the ribs, and one of Adam’s gangly limbs smacks his jaw. He’s not even drunk enough to be worried about a hangover.
Three hand rolled smokes disappear out the window, his mask and revealing shirt traded for a ratty tank top. Just as the last smoke is stubbed out, and the first little bit of ease starts to stretch its limbs out, there’s a knock at the door. Nate tenses all over again, creeping towards the door and staring at it blearily.
It doesn’t sound like an enforcer, too desperate for it, and that’s the only thing that eases the tight knot in Nate’s chest as he cracks his door open, squinting down at the sad picture before him. “Puppy?” despite the bewilderment a hand reaches out to grab Sunjata and drag him inside. “What're you doing here?”
you can’t drag me down like a beast underwater with no soul
father, father, let me figure it out i'm gonna swim in the thick of it now, i can't even tell the difference now
He stops knocking, waiting a few more heartbeats as the doubt starts to settle in his head. What if he isn’t welcome? What if it was all some big ruse to make him think that they didn’t have something in common? He works his jaw, halfway toward convincing himself this was a terrible idea and maybe he could seek some refuge closer to the cores.
But then the door cracks open and he can see Nate’s gaze through it, his own exhausted and dull in comparison. He barely has time to say anything before he’s dragged in, the door closing behind him. “I got stuck. And the Enforcers wouldn’t let me out of the Drencher’s group and sent me down here.” His arm remains pressed against his wounded side, hunched over enough to keep pressure applied there as well as enough to keep his head from throbbing from his hangover. “I didn’t know where to go. Sorry for the intrusion.” He blurts out after, gaze dropping to the floor to find something to focus on, remaining just as still and small as he can.
my head feels too loud sometimes like a monsoon in the summertime
A tongue comes out to wet his lips while Nate looks the enforcer over, his hard gaze wavering as he tries and fails to stay unaffected by the sad picture the other man paints. “It’s fine.” The words don’t have any bite, just an exhausted resignation, Nate leading them to his lumpy couch and sitting Sunjata down.
“You can stay.” It’s the first reassurance Nate offers, hands on his knees as he prepares himself to stand again, his shoulders rolling back when he finally manages to heave himself up onto his feet. “Anything broken?” He asks, getting right down to business. The sooner the big things are taken care of, the sooner he can crawl into bed and pass out himself.
you can’t drag me down like a beast underwater with no soul
father, father, let me figure it out i'm gonna swim in the thick of it now, i can't even tell the difference now
He expects a bite in Nate’s tone, a burdening thought of great, now I get to take care of you for x amount of time? But he doesn’t get that, instead he simply works his jaw, arm still held against his side, the tattered clothes giving some amount of warmth but not nearly enough, and so Sunjata shivers lightly and masks it with a soft sigh as Nate guides him to the couch to sit him down.
He winces as he sits, shoulders dropping with relief when Nate says he can stay. “Thank you.” He says quietly, keeping his gaze trained on a mismatched part of the rug. He only lifts it to look at Nate when the doctor stands, asks him if anything was broken. “No, I don’t think so. Bruised mostly.” And a small wound which has been covered and has stopped the bleeding.
Carefully, he stretches out somewhat, enough to lift the tattered shirt up and tuck it in under his chin, pulling his arm away from where it had been pressed to staunch bleeding. He works his jaw, wincing slightly as it’s revealed, a blooming purple bruise along his side edging into his rib cage. And at the center, a small puncture wound caused by the enhanced baton from the enforcer that had attacked the second he tried to get out of the group. There’s dried blood around the wound but it’s managed to clot, not without looking like a mess, however.
my head feels too loud sometimes like a monsoon in the summertime
Stretching until his back pops loudly (and prompts a somewhat guilty glance in the direction of his bedroom, an artful curtain and some of a wall all that separates them) Nate covers the five steps to the kitchen and opens a cupboard. The late hour and adrenaline crash paint him in a gentler image than what he usually projects, a bare foot rising to itch absently at the back of his leg while he rummages, producing a small first aid kit, two scratched glasses, and a pill bottle with several different names written on and scratched off again. Even his scowl is softened by exhaustion and a general inability to care when he turns around, carting everything and a pitcher back to the other man and sitting again.
Somehow the bruise on his jaw seems more pronounced than it had at first, it's dark kiss echoed in the bags under Nate's eyes when he lifts his gaze, taking in the revealed injuries with a near tranquil calm. It's poor bedside manner, but these are his beds, so Sunjata will have to deal with it. The first aid kit snaps open sternly, Nate's nose pinching as he tugs on a pair of gloves and leans in. "Damn, you got taught good, eh?" A small spray bottle with an off yellow liquid is pulled out, Nate licking his lips. "Do you want something to bite down on puppy? It's going to sting." The bottle is shaken menacingly, the doctor's lips tugging up into a sharp grin as he waits for the answer.
Whichever the other man chooses, Nate is sure to give him plenty of warning before he sprays, the liquid cold and stingy, and unfortunately sharp smelling. It does a good job of eating away the dark clots of blood and grime though, bruised skin revealed when the mess is wiped away. Nate is sure to work quickly as the wound starts to bleed again, staunching it first with a powder before taping it up with gauze. "You're going to hurt for a while."
you can’t drag me down like a beast underwater with no soul
father, father, let me figure it out i'm gonna swim in the thick of it now, i can't even tell the difference now
Absently, Sunjata watches as Nate moves about the kitchen, reaching for things, noting how much more homey he seems to be here. It isn’t the bedside manner he’s used to, nor is it the strong, hard mask he’s used to. But he pays it little mind as Nate return and Sunjata shows the damage done, finally relaxing a small amount given that he’s been welcomed in.
“Yeah.” He starts, working his jaw. “I don’t know if the wound hurts worse than the fact he was a lower rank than me and didn’t realize who I was when I was screaming at him.” Perhaps it’s a bit of his Plate privilege showing, but it burns in his mind regardless. For a moment, though, he notices the splotch of a bruise along Nate’s jaw and it’s enough to shut him up, to shake his head when he asks if he needs something to bite down on.
He can handle it. He’s sure. At least, he was — the second that the liquid hits and Nate’s cleaning him up, Sunjata clamps down his jaw tightly, a small whine of a whimper slips from his nose as his eyes shut right, nostrils flaring as the pain seeps in of the anesthetic. But he remains still, even if his hand is clenched hard with the pain that vibrates through his body. “How long?” He asks the second that he can, once the pain has subsided enough.
my head feels too loud sometimes like a monsoon in the summertime
A rough, dry laugh leaves Nate, utterly lacking any sympathy. "You think that's the first time he's heard it? They don't care." Gentle fingers brush over the fresh bandage, making a show of brushing away the loose powder as an excuse to linger. "It'll start to feel better with that stuff. And it shouldn't get infected." Nate works his jaw and finally draws back, pulling the gloves off and setting them on the table.
There's something unfathomably deep in Nate's eyes, something that nonetheless manages to make his nose and brow twitch before he drags his gaze away from the other man completely. "Coupla days. Ish." It's dismissive, the off duty doctor clearly unwilling to talk more about it. Instead, it's distractions, the messy pill bottle opened and a rainbow of various pills dumped into Nate's waiting palm. Two small, fully white pills are carefully picked out and offered over to Sunjata, and then all but an equally small purple one are poured back in. The bottle is thrown back towards the counter with a clatter, Nate not paying it any mind at all as he fills the glasses with water.
"These'll help. And they're... difficult to notice." Another something ripples over Nate's face, masked this time by the way he shoves a glass at the other man and forces them to cheers. The water is clean, if a bit stale, much like the glass it comes in. Whatever the little pills are break apart on Sunjata tongue as soon as he takes a sip of water, dissolving with a bittersweet taste.
you can’t drag me down like a beast underwater with no soul
father, father, let me figure it out i'm gonna swim in the thick of it now, i can't even tell the difference now
He supposes Nate’s right in that regard but it still doesn’t soothe him all that much, both still hurt just as much. But there is relief when Nate speaks and tells him it won’t get infected; it makes the pain mostly worth it. His chest heaves as Nate brushes away the powder and Sunjata begins to relax momentarily at the touch of the fingers against the spread bruising.
But then the other man pulls away and Sunjata’s tense again. Wrapped up soon after and anxious as the slight bounce of his leg can be seen. He watches as Nate goes to pull out the pills, scanning over the variety of them before lifting a hand to accept the pills. He doesn’t know what the unreadable look in Nate’s face means, but his throbbing headache and the rebound of the pain from his side prevents him from asking. “Thank you.” He decides after a moment, taking the pills with the water and wincing as it turns bitter on his tongue.
He swallows it down with record time, inhaling with an “eeesh” He tries to drown it out with a few more sips of water, before focusing on Nate again. “They’ve uh, closed the tram so I don’t know when I’ll be able to leave…” He admits, the frown lines in his face deepening.
my head feels too loud sometimes like a monsoon in the summertime
Almost immediately the pain fades to a dull, localized buzz, growling and raised hackles instead of a lunge, and teeth. Better than the alternative. Nate distracts his hands by reaching for a threadbare blanket, more for a layer between the couch and whoever’s crashing on it than for warmth. He works it between his hands, then leans across to spread it around Sunjata’s shoulders.
Lips purse as the doctor draws a breath in through his nose, his brows pinching. “You gotta take them with water.” The words are said like an apology, one of Nate’s free hands dropping to Sunjata’s knee and squeezing.
Reassurance is usually something that comes as natural to him as breathing, a pretty shiny pearl grown around a kernel of bitter truth. He doesn’t have that key truth here though, his eyes dropping to the ground. “Should be open again soon. You’ll be okay.” His thumb worries at a soft spot on the other man’s knee, wearing a bruise in like a spot on an apple. “And hey, you can stay here as long as you need.”
you can’t drag me down like a beast underwater with no soul
