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
In the end, he did decide it was better to face the music. He’d had to heal up first, bringing the city into the hot iron grip of Kivan, but once he was well enough to go, nausea eating at his stomach, he takes the tram up from the Drench, avoiding as many eyes as possible. It’s easy, though, because he isn’t in his usual clothes — borrowed ones from Nate and Adam. It also helps he’s still a bit slow moving with how he steps through to catch the train from POSE to POD, on the way turning his phone back on to so many missed calls and texts, ones he avoids like the plague.
He doesn’t have much time, but he knows he’ll likely be in a ridiculous amount of trouble the second he shows up on POINT again, likely unable to leave for some time. So he sends a text to Cian, inviting him to meet him at Kali’s Diner for those milkshakes he promised him, given that it might be the last time he could. Plus, the idea of a milkshake and air conditioning certainly seemed like a good way to get rid of the heatstroke that keeps his body far too warm.
He arrives and picks a booth in the back, sending out another text of where he was sitting — because he wasn’t going to be that recognizable like this — and shuts down his phone again on the off chance his father decided to try and find out where he was. And then he waits, sipping from the water given to him before Cian arrives, gaze peering out the window at the sunrise as it shifts the world into purples and pinks from the cool blue haze of dawn.
Only a few hour after Cian had gone to bed, he starts awake by his phone making the noise of receiving a message. Disorientated and with his pulse racing, he fumbles around in the dark before he finds the phone and flips it open to read the message. He frowns at the sender for a while before his brain calms down and catches up on reality. Peering at the time showing early hours in the corner of the display drags a low groan out of him, but he replies with a short 'I'll be there.' and drags himself out of the bed.
Dressed in a pair of worn pale jeans-type pants and a black tank-top Cian steps on the tram going in the direction of POE, doing his best to blink the tiredness away from his eyes with little success. He has not bothered to shave in days, the short beard has once again grown out again and his curly hair is messier than usual. Running his fingers through it does little to fix it.
He steps out on POE and squints at the rising sun before checking his phone again, seeing the second message from Sunjata. There is still a lot of confusion spinning in his mind as to why he was invited out for a milkshake at such early hours, but it had not struck him until now to actually ask why. It would have to wait until he finds the man. Cian puts the phone away without replying and makes his way towards the diner. Holding back a big yawn, he pushes the door open and looks to where Sunjata had said he would be. Another frown pulls Cian's brow together until he realises that it is Sunjata he is looking at.
"Good morning to you too." He mumbles as he drops himself down on the seat in the opposite side of the table. With a quiet sigh he runs a hand through his hair and looks Sunjata over while his slow awakening brain tries to work out what is going on. Sunjata might notice that Cian in general looks more worn out than the first time they met. Perhaps slightly thinner in the face as well.
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.
He knows it is early, that at least this early in the day the heat hasn’t settled in. But that’s not the reason why he’s invited him to this diner, the information is too important to actually send out for worry that any transcripts might be traced back. He doesn’t know if that’s how it works, either, but a part of him has grown to believe he can’t be too careful.
So he waits until Cian slips into the booth, offers that tired ‘Good morning’ only for the young Bratena to look back at Cian with bags under his eyes and a few marks along his skin hidden halfway by the borrowed clothing. “Morning. Sorry it’s so early.” He offers quietly, shifting to slide the menu toward Cian so he could pick between a variety of milkshakes — his own favorite already picked out. Cherry.
“It’s probably the last time I’ll get to see you for a while. How’d you fare after the masquerade?” He asks, eyeing his friend to try and see what might have changed or become different. There’s a bigger beard, a thinner face, and he wonders if it’s the stress of lockdown getting to him and the inability to consistently pay for the place he’s at. But these are all questions he doesn’t ask, instead choosing the most obvious one that has had time to settle in the weeks that have gone past.
He observes Sunjata's appearance for a few more seconds after the menu is moved towards him, then makes a somewhat dismissive gesture with a hand at the apology and looks down. His eyes squint and blink several times before his tired vision clears up and the text stops being blurry. Brain still everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Instead of really looking at what kind of milkshakes there are, he looks up and down the price listing until he picks out one of the cheaper chocolate shakes.
Pushing the menu away from him, he looks up at Sunjata again with an even more confused expression than before. "Why-... Uh, fine I guess? Was far enough away from any Enforcer to recieve any hits and managed to worm my way out of the crowd to not be pushed into the trams." He had seen from a distance how a lot of people were forced into the trams going down into the Drench, but he had not stayed too long in case the Enforces would spot him afterwards while they continued to secure the area.
"Why would I not see you in a while?" He wanted to ask how Sunjata is doing, but it was probably best to clear out one question mark at the time. First, it would have to be what Sunjata meant about this being the last time they would see each other in a while.
Cian rubs his face with yet another sigh and shifts in his seat. His body feeling uncomfortable and complaining about having to be upright at all.
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.
Sunjata intends to buy, the fact of how expensive the shake is, isn’t a worry to him. He’ll simply just tack it onto the already assumed grounding he’ll get — all because he was too terrified of what would happen if he never showed. When Cian makes his order, Sunjata orders them quickly from the waitress that drops by, passing a moment to glance at him as he ducks his head to focus on what Cian says.
“Good, good. I’m glad.” And he was. The last thing he wanted was for the Enforcers to treat everyone with the same malice they’d shown they were capable of that night. And sure, he’s heard the stories, heard his father brag about them, but didn’t want to be connected with it in the slightest.
As for why he’ll be disappearing? Well, this is met with a soft huff, a small smile that fades immediately once his steel gaze meets Cian’s face. “Well, after the fight, I got shoved into the trams. I tried to tell them I was an enforcer, but they didn’t believe it or something. I don’t know.” He shrugs, but he lifts the borrowed shirt to show the bandage that wraps around his ribs. “I got stuck in the Drench and uh, this is the first time I’ve been able to come back since then. So… I probably won’t be leaving POINT for a while if my father has anything to say about it.” It ends with a grimace, a shuffling of the menus to fiddle with something to alleviate the anxiety, his gaze dropping to the table.
“Don’t know yet if I’ll be able to keep my phone.” Another quiet admission.
Even if Sunjata is the one paying for it, Cian has at this point gotten very used to going by the lowest number and not having the luxury to pick much after taste. The choice to keep roof over his head over proper food is starting to leave its mark, however.
The frown stays on Cian's face while Sunjata explains what happens, his expression softening a bit in sympathy when he sees the bandages. The worst he had gotten away with was some soreness after being pinched between people before escaping the crowd. "I am probably sounding very naive here, but... Why would he be upset at you for it? From what it looked like, no one was given a free choice to enter the trams." The explanation only brought more confusion to Cian. He had gathered from before that Sunjata did not have the best relationship to his father, but he was still not sure about the details.
He lets out a quiet grunt at the talk about losing the phone. "Guess I will have to keep myself from sending you any messages then until you say it is fine." A small, tired smile is offered to Sunjata. It was sort of meant as a joke in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit, but also the last he wanted was for the Arbiter to start asking question over who it was sending messages.
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.
Cian isn’t being naive, in reality any reasonable person would understand that. But Sunjata, for the most part, has grown used to his father being of the unreasonable type. So he grows a bit more bold, quiet as he lets Cian’s question simmer, trying to figure out how best to say how he’d fucked up before the night even started. “I technically wasn’t supposed to be there.” He rolls a shoulder in a slight shrug, before he leans back and his fingers scratch at a spot in the table.
“I was able to go because my father wasn’t going and I thought it’d be important to show some face. And it was worth it, at first. And then I got shoved into the Drench without much of phone service anyway.” So while he could have called his father and explained, he didn’t want to send a group of enforcers down into the Drench to search for him.
So, it’s complicated. Headache inducingly so. “He doesn’t exactly trust me, either.” Not that he’s given Shaju much to trust him on as he’s gotten older.
Cian’s poor joke does receive a soft huff of a laugh, though, and he nods as the small smile plays on his face. “I’ll be sure to send the message.” He answers with a small shrug.
Cian mouths a quiet 'Ah' when told that Sunjata was not supposed to have been there. He is not sure if Sunjata had already explained that at the festival. If he had, Cian had forgotten about it anyway. A lot of drinking had been involved. He nods slowly along with the continued explanation and gets a clearer picture over the situation. Some of it hits a bit too close to home and a familiar feeling of pressure in his chest makes itself known.
"Seems like we have both been where we were not supposed to be..." He mutters under his breath. He is still where he is not supposed to be. The most recent phone call with his brother had just made him feel even worse about the whole situation and the feeling of helplessness made his stomach twist in anxiety.
He tries to push his own problems aside for a moment and focuses back on Sunjata. "I hope it won't be too bad far you. And... If you need anything you know how to reach me." A soft smile tugs at the corner of his mouth for a second. He could not help but feel some amount of care and concern for Sunjata. Though this growing friendship was like a double edged sword for him. On one side; having someone with Sunjata's rank and connections could be of use. On the other side; could bring a lot of risk if he ever was to cross Sunjata somehow. On the tip between the sides balanced just a regular friendship.
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.
He hadn’t mentioned it – only for the fact that he didn’t think it would be a big deal. And yet, here he is, shortly before facing the music that he really really doesn’t want to. Which is why the text had come so early, why he’s wearing borrowed clothes from a Drencher in a Plate diner. All of it will be a lot to have to answer to, and he works his jaw as Cian begins to speak. “Seems like.” He agrees with a small apologetic smile, not having forgotten that Cian should’ve been home by now, but maybe that’s something he could try and figure out when he’s locked behind POINT walls.
Though he supposes it depends on whether he’s only locked to POINT or to the Bratena Manor. It’d be much harder to get things done otherwise – even if he could try to do anything. So he takes a deep breath and focuses on Cian more fully, nodding his head and offering a small smile in response to his own. “With me being stuck at home, maybe I’ll have a chance to overhear how the shut down of the trams outside of Unk’Kotoll are coming.” A little bit of a potential silver lining, maybe. “I’ll let you know if that’s the case.”
Because again, it truly depended upon how strict the punishment was – and knowing his father? It’ll likely be severe.
In the time of their conversation, the milkshakes arrive – in clear swirled glasses, filled to the brim with whipped cream atop them and a cherry to top it off for the both of them. And alongside the glasses are little metal tins filled with any extra that might have been left over from making it. Sunjata offers a quiet thank you to the waitress and picks the cherry from the top of the whipped cream and before he stuffs it into his mouth, lets his gaze focus intently on the Garanenz man. “Let me know what you think.” Would it be the best milkshakes Cian has ever had? Sunjata doesn’t know. What he can say, though, is that it’s the best milkshake place in the city.
With a huff he leans back in the booth and looks down at the table when Sunjata starts talking about the trains to the outside. "Yeah, it would be nice to know what is going on with that. So far, I have not seen any updates." He perhaps sounds more bitter than he first intended. Truth be told, he is bitter about it. Bitter, upset and frustrated. Towards the people making the decisions and himself both. At the same time, the thought of going home brought more worries. Would he be able to keep the secret of where he had truly been? Just go on with life as if nothing happened. He hated lying to his family, but the longer it went on, the harder it was to confess.
He is once again snapped out of his own mind when the milkshakes arrives, and his stomach sinks a bit instead. He is running on way too little sleep and a stomach filled with too much anxiety and too little food for something like this. Still, he slides his glass closer, feeling Sunjata's gaze on him and avoids looking back at the Bratena. No way out of it at this point. He puts his lips around the straw and had a taste. The sweet, thick drink hits him almost as bad as he feared. Under normal circumstances, he probably would have enjoyed it. It was nothing wrong with the taste. The taste was even great, but it was not the breakfast he needed.
Despite this, he takes another sip to force his body to just accept it. "It's good." While not sounding very enthusiastic, his response still sounds genuine. It is a good milkshake. Just his mood that isn't.
Another thought seems to cross Cian's mind and he finally looks back up at Sunjata. "You don't think your father might know you are up here already? Just... There are Enforcers on the trams, right?" He throws a glance out the window, as if checking so there are no uniforms coming marching towards the diner.
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.
