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
I always thought that I’d die young make some money, be someone
It’s Kivan that makes him think about moving. Every fucking year when it closes it’s fat hand around the city, when the heat and the stench and the humidity make every breath stick in his chest with no relief.
Even now he’s sitting outside his clinic, back pressed to the faint cool touch of the window and his knees cramping from the tight crouch he’s locked in to keep his ass up off the ground. If there’s no bodies inside it stays marginally cooler, enough to be a momentary relief. The people who shuffle by seem just as miserable as he feels, fans a common sight in hands and damp cloths resting on people’s shoulders and around their necks.
Head swivelling, Nate considers the few lasti in his pocket, and the convenience store the next level up that he knows has a proper fridge. Maybe… maybe it’s worth it. Without too much more thought he pushes himself unsteadily to his feet and steps out into the crowd with the kind of singleminded focus that lends itself only to disaster when combined with other people. Sure, he has some skill in avoiding people, but his head is not at its best right now.
they all love you when you’re gone but who knew life would be so long?
It is one of her rare days off and any sane person would probably have spent it catching up on some much needed sleep, but Ira did not want to spend those precious hours lying in a bed doing nothing. Instead of suffering in her overheated apartment, she is out suffering in the streets. She was going to be uncomfortably warm no matter what anyway. Better being out and checking if anything interesting was going on, or if there is any new gossip to pick up.
She manage to keep a rather brisk pace, despite the heavy heat. Perhaps if she walks fast enough, she can conjure up a breeze. It is a nice dream, at least.
Her walk suddenly got interrupted by a short series of action. First, she side-stepped one person being in her way. Then, she is half blinded for a second as her hand moves to push away hair that threatens to stick to her face and just as she lowers the hand again, she marches right into the side of a taller person stepping into the crowd seemingly from out of nowhere.
She feels her teeth biting down into the inside of her own lip when her face collides with an arm. Or perhaps it is a shoulder. She is not sure and it does not matter. With a short groan she takes a staggering step backwards.
"Fu-... Sorry, sorry!" She mumbles from behind the back of her hand pressing against her mouth and looks up at the person in question. Preparing to disappear into the crowd again should he turn out to be too angry over her rudely walking right into him like that.
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.
I always thought that I’d die young make some money, be someone
There are a handful of benefits to being as big as Nate is, and being sturdy is perhaps among the more useful in a place like the Drench. He barely moves at all as he’s run into, wide eyes staring dumbly at the person who’s just bounced off him like a pinball. “You all good?” They’re absolutely in the way, but people part around them easily, no one focused on the rocks in the stream except to grumble to themselves.
His nose wrinkles in a sympathetic wince, a hand lifting to touch at his own lip. “Shit… you should get something on that.” Nate glances back towards his clinic, then sucks in a short breath and closes his eyes, opening them back on the stranger. “If you want, the guy that runs the snack shop up one owes me. I’ll get you… I dunno, something cold?”
they all love you when you’re gone but who knew life would be so long?
In comparison, while Ira is not the shortest person around, she doesn't have much weight on her to begin with to be able to shove her way through a crowd. She makes up for it by being skillful at quickly zigzagging around people. Apart from exceptions like this very moment.
The only reason she stays put is because the person she ran into is actually asking if she is alright, instead of snapping angrily at her. She removes her hand from her mouth and quickly wipes it off on her pants. At least they are black and good at hiding stains. "Yeah, s'fine." She mumbles and runs her tongue along the inside of her lip as if checking the damage. It doesn't feel like a big wound, but it hurts more than it should have any right to.
He makes his offer and she throws a glance up at the mentioning of the shop. She thinks it over for a couple of seconds before shrugging. "Might be a good idea... Sorry again for running into you." She had first wanted to decline and be on her just to not be of any bother, but getting something cold sooner rather than later is probably the best option. Anything to prevent her from having to show up to work with a swollen lip.
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.
I always thought that I’d die young make some money, be someone
Incredulous brows nearly rise into Nate’s hair, his frown huffing out of him audibly as he rolls his eyes. “Fine.” He repeats, just to hammer in how ridiculous the thought is. Especially when he can clearly see otherwise.
His hand rises to pinch the bridge of his nose, the other one directing Ira into the flow of pedestrians, towards the nearest lift. “Its fine. I should have looked before I started walking.” The heat is even more oppressive in the crowd, but it’s a small price to put for the reward of weak air conditioning and getting to stand in front of an open cooler. “Sorry I derailed you. Doing anything important?”
they all love you when you’re gone but who knew life would be so long?
'Yes, fine.' She is about to repeat it back to him defiantly, but decides against it. His expression and huffing clearly stating his opinion about it and she sees no point in trying to argue against it. In one way, she could be called fine since she is not that badly injured. On the other hand, having a bleeding lip perhaps doesn't count as actually fine.
With a quiet huff of her own, she presses her hand back against said lip while they head towards the lift. She is almost about to argue back over who's fault it was (hers) for them walking into each other as well, but bites that back too. Having no idea why she suddenly felt so insecure about it all and wants to keep apologizing just for the sake of it. It isn't exactly like her. Perhaps it's the heat in combination with her self-induced sleep deprivation that that causes it.
His question snaps her out of her thoughts and she returns her attention to him. "Not exactly."" She mumbles and removes the hand from her mouth. "I'm mostly killing time before my night shift, so not that much to derail me from." She checks her lip again before adding in a more joking manner. "Hope your arm's alright. Or whatever it was I knocked into."
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.
I always thought that I’d die young make some money, be someone
"Guess it is too miserable to sleep." Nate aims for knowing commiseration, though there's a note of judgement in his tone - as far as he's concerned, staying still and in one place is preferable to the sticky pulse of the alleys. They may be clearer than usual, but there are still too many bodies about for the tight squeezes to be comfortable, though some of that may simply be due to his size. It's not common for Nate to feel as if he has an abundance of space anywhere.
There's some reprieve at the lift, the little bit of motion enough to coax a false breeze around them, Nate slumping again as soon as they step off on the next level. "I'm not bleeding, so," he shrugs, trying to cover up the lateness of his answer. He'd admittedly been basking.
A handful of bright neon signs tip the exterior of the corner store just a few degrees hotter into something truly unbearable, Nate opening the door and shoving his companion through in the same motion just to get inside faster. Fans move the stale air around inside, with blessedly few people around to warm it. "So what's your poison?" A moment of hesitation lingers after the question before he continues with a tactless: "and your name? I'm Nate."
they all love you when you’re gone but who knew life would be so long?
He isn't wrong; it is way too uncomfortably warm to sleep properly. Not that moving about is any better, but it keeps her more sane than lying and staring at the ceiling the whole day. She really should be saving some of her energy for the time her work starts, but here she is. At least one good thing with the heat is that often the bar patrons were subdued by it as well. No one really having the energy to cause much trouble.
She remains silent while they go up the lift, running her tongue along the inside of her lip while subtly studying the very tall stranger out of the corner of her eye until they are out again, just offering a short hum in response to him not being the one bleeding. She follows along towards the store and is a bit unprepared to be shoved inside the moment the door opens. She gives him a sideway glance and might be about to make some comment on it, but his questions come faster. At least she gets a name to the face.
"Ira." A small smile is offered to him "And my poison is anything that might at least be a few degrees colder than the air." She makes her way over to the nearest drink fridge she spots and picks out a soda can at random. A package of ice may be more useful, but more boring and at least the can won't melt in her hands while staying cold for at least a little while.
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.
I always thought that I’d die young make some money, be someone
The door closes behind them with the ring of a bell, prompting a face to finally appear behind the counter, the clerks eyes narrowed on the duo as they make their way through the store.
Doing his level best to ignore the stare locked on them, Nate chuckles and glances in the fridge, his lips pursing a little as he notes what Ira took and looks for something for himself. “Its nice to meet you.” There’s no small amount of distraction in his voice as he crouches, reaching for something at the bottom. “Wish it was under better circumstances though.”
From where she stands over him Ira might notice the flourish that vanishes a small can into Nate’s pocket before he stands, a much cheaper and more beat up carton in his hands. “You want anything else?”
they all love you when you’re gone but who knew life would be so long?
The staring clerk receives a brief glance and an award-winning smile from Ira before she looks away from them again. Working with customers for the last few years has taught her well to look genuinely friendly and sweet when she has to. "Likewise." She responds as she focuses back on Nate where he crouches and she puts the cold can against her lips. "Guess they call meeting "running into someone" for some reason." She huffs out a soft laugh and shakes her head slowly.
If she notice the can disappearing into Nate's pocket, she doesn't show it. And she certainly doesn't comment on it. If anything, she shifts a bit where she stands and has a casual look around as if she's considering his offer. That she covers up the view of him from the counter a bit more is totally just an accidental side effect.
"This is probably where one should take advantage of that offer, but... I'm good. Don't really like having people spend their money for me." A small smirk spreads over her lips and she drums her fingers against the can she's holding. "Unless it's wriggling extra lasti out of the Platers deciding to visit my bar. I'll gladly have them empty every piece out of their pockets." It isn't her bar really, but the place is her mini-home from home at this point.
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.
