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
While Adam would have rather had Nate than most other people in the Drench for hangover aftercare, there wasn't much in the way of actual food in the apartment. Man could not live on pills and cock alone, so by the early afternoon he was wandering out to find somewhere to eat, pushing the few coins he had around in his pocket and hoping they'd be enough for a bite of something.
It wasn't often he had the luxury of eating out, but with the still-lingering headache and memories of the night before, he felt shitty enough to justify the diner he ended up walking into.
He'd just missed the lunch rush, though there were still a few patrons lingering; Adam nodded to the couple he knew as he made his way up to the counter. Whoever he found there, he would lay out the bit of Lasti he had on the counter - little more than spare change, really - and ask: "So uh, is there anything I can get for this?"
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
It had been a calm day. Even for being the lunch rush, it had been calmer than usual. Ira had quickly realised it was because of that festival and people were nursing long lasting hangovers. Some even various bruises. Not long into her shift, she had picked up a lot of gossip and rumors about what had happened and the more she heard, the happier she became over her decision to not go. Her main complaint was that most of the regular workers had not showed up and she had already been forced to do more than usual.
She was just about to take off her apron and slip out back for a break when the front door opened. The other girl working was fast to clean off the table she was working on and disappear through the kitchen doors before Ira could escape. With a very quiet sigh, she ties the apron around her waist again and when she turns to face the new customer, a polite smile is on her lips.
"Hello and welcome." She moves over and looks at the money, and reaches for a menu. She slides it over to him. "Scrambled eggs, perhaps one of the simpler sandwiches." Ira takes a look at the man on the other side of the counter, and throws a quick glance at a clock on the wall before adding: "I can even offer you the lunch discount. You look like you could use it..." She taps a finger on the page showing the list of cooked meals offered during lunch hours. Everything was already considered cheap by regular standards, but there are some options that the money offered will cover.
IRA
The reader of this text has standing permission for responsible powerplay and to use physical/magical force against this character. Instant killing and permanently maiming not included.
Having half expected to be told to get out with his petty change, Adam blinked at the menu with a slow surprise, taking it in his hands and drawing his mouth to one side as he looked it over. As always, the letters jumped over each other and took a while to keep still, but he was able to see the eggs were indeed, affordable and would do to fill his stomach until he could bother Nate or cough up some more cash of his own.
"Eggs, then, please...and I'll take whatever offer you've got for me." With a pretty self-pitying half laugh, he rubbed the side of his face and sat up a little straighter. "Thanks. I'm having uh...a rough morning. Afternoon? I was topside last night." The last part was said quieter, Adam not wanting to get into a conversation about it with the whole diner; he assumed by now everyone down here had to know what had happened the night before. News about clashes between the Drench and the Plates always spread quickly.
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
She tends to some small things behind the counter while waiting for him to decide, instead of just standing there and staring at him. Yes, with the small amount of money he showed the options are very limited, but she knew there are some things on the menu cheap enough. Even if there had not been, she might just have offered him the cheapest for what he had anyway. Better that than no paying costumer at all. Besides, since no one else was here and she had to do other people's jobs, she had decided she could stretch the rules a bit.
He finally decides what to have and Ira scribbles down a quick note. She then moves over to another part of the counter and fishes out a mug, in which she pours a hot black tea. It is cheap and bitter, but it is what they have. "On the house. Sadly, I left the whiskey at my other job." She puts the cup in front of him with a wink and moves over to slip the note to the kitchen.
"I've heard talks about that all morning. Most of the staff seem to be either home with a hangover or too bruised." She responds in a quieter tone when she comes back and leans forward on the counter on the opposite side of him. "What even happened? Some say you all got rounded up in a trap, other say the Enforces just decided to go crazy."
IRA
The reader of this text has standing permission for responsible powerplay and to use physical/magical force against this character. Instant killing and permanently maiming not included.
Adam was not typically a tea drinker, but in the state he was in, he would have drunk horse piss (probably not literally, but a lot of the drinks in the Drench were so awful they may as well have been). Taking the mug in his hands with a nod and a hum of thanks, he sniffed it and tried not to let his nose wrinkle as he took in the bitter scent. Perhaps he'd just let it cool for a while.
"Much as I'd like some of the hair of the fuckin' dog that bit me...this is prolly better." He mumbled, lifting the cup one way then the other to tilt the liquid back and forth, watching the reflection of the cheap lighting ahead in the surface of the tea.
As for the events of the last night, he breathed out a quiet laugh. "They have the right idea. If I had any food I'd be doing the same." (More accurately, if Nate had any food for him to steal, but that was details he didn't need to share).
When it came to describing what happened, all Adam could do was shrug. "Well...uh. I don't really know? I was drunk and it was a party. Snooty Plates assholes but no one was throwing punches or whatever. Was just about getting ready to go home..then..." Hands drifted about in the air before him as he tried to work out the events in the booze-blurred memories. "..Something...happened. Everything went to shit. It seemed like everyone was pretty confused though, enforcers included. Much as I hate them, I don't think it was a trap. Just...everyone being pissed off and tired of this lockdown."
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
To her it does not matter much if he leaves the tea untouched or not. She observes him picking up the cup out of the corner of her eye while she goes back to tending to some small things behind the counter. Mostly just re-organizing stacks of menus or other notes, or wiping an already clean spot. The diner might not be much to look at or very fancy, but at least it was kept clean and the food was cooked properly. Might not contain the most expensive ingredients and spices, but they did alright with what one could get hold of in the Drench.
She paused what she was doing to listen to his description and she nodded slowly with a quiet hum. "Sounds just like some... Unfortunate crowd panic or something. Still sounds unpleasant... Sort of glad I decided not to go." She looks thoughtful for a second. "How was the festival like otherwise? Apart from the ending..."
A small ding from a bell has her turn around to the window to the kitchen and the plate that is placed there. She picks it up, collects some cutlery and takes it all over to Adam. "There you go. Want a glass of water or soda with it?" On the plate is a decent portion of scrambled eggs, two slices of fried bread and a sweet berry jam.
IRA
The reader of this text has standing permission for responsible powerplay and to use physical/magical force against this character. Instant killing and permanently maiming not included.
After a couple more cautious sips of tea, Adam began to find that the warmth of it overtook the initially unpleasant taste and drank more freely, wondering if he ought to become a tea guy. This rumination was interrupted by Ira's interpretation of events, which drew an indifferent nod and shrug. "I think it's just gonna happen whenever you get a buncha Plates people and Drench people together. Everyone hates each other. You can only play nice for so long."
With a little snort, he added: "One guy, big fancy jacket, came up to us and he was all: 'Oooh, you're not wearing enough clothes! I can see a nipple and I may faint!'" Dropping the falsetto, Adam shook his head. "When they're busy getting upset we aren't wearing their super fancy kecks, I don't think they're ready to talk to us."
Eyebrows were raised as the food made it's way to him, the plate much more piled than he had dared to expect. It would not have been uncharacteristic of diners in the Drench for the meal to be a spoonful or two of watery eggs dumped on a scrap piece of cardboard. Reaching for the cutlery with great enthusiasm, Adam glanced up at Ira for a moment with a surprised smile. "This looks fucking great. Thank you. Uhh. Just water's okay....is it just you here? D'ya cook all this? I'm gonna have to come back. Jeez."
Praises given, he didn't wait to dig in, table manners somewhat wanting but at the very least he used the knife and fork.
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
She laughs softly at the Plater impersonation. If the sight of a nipple was so horrible up there, then the revolution people muttered about would be very easily won if all the Drenchers just marched up shirtless. She has to bite her tongue to not laugh more at that mental image. Perhaps if there is a festival next year too, she can sneak up just to watch the spectacle.
The amused look stays on her face as she observes his reaction over the food while pouring him a glass of cold water. "Seems to be just me and the cook here right now, yeah." She places the glass down on the counter for him. "What the owner saves in lack of decorations, they spend on the food instead. And really, people here care more about a proper meal than walls full with fancy paintings or whatever." She makes a gesture at the rather bare room and simple booths.
"The quantity goes a bit up and down depending on supply and I can say for certain that the supply will start running low soon if this lockdown remains for much longer." The seemingly never ending fucking lockdown. Ira goes back to idly moving stuff around behind the counter again, just for the sake of staying busy now when things are calm after the lunch rush.
IRA
The reader of this text has standing permission for responsible powerplay and to use physical/magical force against this character. Instant killing and permanently maiming not included.
"Yeah...my mum always used to say if a place looks real fancy, the food is gonna be shit. Down here you can't afford nice lights and a good cook." Adam hardly had a refined palate, but he'd eaten at enough cheap carts along the road with only an ancient wooden frame as decor to know the looks weren't everything. "It's different up there, though-" He gestured up with his fork between bites. "-At the masquerade thing, they had drinks with fuckin' flowers floating in them and stuff."
As for the lockdown, he sighed and nodded, giving Ira a sympathetic look. "It's fucking with my job too. Honestly, if the 'revolution' is gonna happen, it'll happen cos of this when the Drench runs dry. Dunno if the Arbiter knows that." For all he was their 'leader' and apparently a genius, Adam had more than a few words to say for how Shaju managed the relations between the two halves of their city. "I mean, shit, his kid is even seeing how fucked up it all is. It's gonna blow soon." Portents of doom said, he finished off the egg and took a sip of water.
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
She nods long with what he is saying, then looks up for a moment at his gesture. The mention of flowers in the drinks made her huff. "If only the bar I work at could be that fancy. We go as far as to use those little paper umbrellas sometimes, but otherwise it is just the glass and the drink. She frowns in thought and looks back at Adam. "Could you at least eat the flowers? Or were they just to be in the way of the drinking?" Maybe that was the trap people had speculated about. You choking on a flower when trying to have a sip.
Then he starts talking more about the lockdown and Ira stops what she is doing, and once again leans forward on the counter to listen. The idea of any kind of revolution made her uneasy and if push came to shove, she wants to be as far away from it as possible. Problem is that no one can get away as long as that lockdown is in place, and she doubted it was going to lift without anything more blowing up one way or the other.
"Wait, the Arbiter's kid is skulking about down here?" That last comment did not escape her and she raises a brow. "Is that some new trial shit they have going on? If your kid survive the drowning attempts, they get thrown to us during the unrest instead?"
IRA
The reader of this text has standing permission for responsible powerplay and to use physical/magical force against this character. Instant killing and permanently maiming not included.
