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
You don't need sympathy
They got a pill for everything
"Your...particular brand of help? What's that?" Adam asked, raising an eyebrow - it was, of course, tempting to ask if Mallorie was really good at something like handjobs or picking pockets, but he resisted. Mallorie may have told him in the past what it was she did, but he'd drunk and slept since then; there was a part of Adam a little concerned she would turn out to be some kind of professional narc for the Enforcers.
Still, information was something he could provide. Maybe less so than usual right now, since he was admittedly in a slow phase (read: lazy period), but Mallorie didn't seem to know much about life in the Drench.
As for his own question, he kept his eyes on the smoke rising from his cigarette as it was considered. It was unlikely to yield any genuinely interested answers, but if it did, he didn't want any surprise in his face to be that obvious. When just sarcasm came Adam was almost relieved, rolling his eyes in mock frustration as he leaned back on the rough surface of the roof. "Fine. So y'aren't as old as you act. Tell me about some Enforcer shit you do remember, then."
Just take that dark cloud
Ring it out to wash it down
Breathe silently, make the ghostly voice surrender.
“I suppose it depends on if you deem it help.” Mallorie mused. “Private investigation, technically. Finder of things, in actuality.”
To varying degrees of success.
She watched Adam and pondered how he’d parse that. In her limited time knowing him she suspected he would file that sort of detail away for later favours and/or not quite legal ventures. Well, it wasn’t like she had any reason to stop him, if he wanted. His next comment seemed almost considered, and that alone made her pause. Or, at least, reason to take the request at face value.
An Enforcer incident she did remember…she could pick from any number of moments that were, sadly, generally not conducive to casual, upbeat conversation. Even the Not Horrible stuff is dicey, memories held on the razor’s edge of recollection that poked at the soft, sore spots in one’s mind. There was no valour there. Nothing she could present with pride, no “amusing” anecdotes on hand.
Of the “Enforcer shit” Mallorie recalled little seemed…worth it, she thought. She pressed her right hand to her left shoulder for a moment, then seemed to catch herself and dropped it into her lap, where she looked down at it.
“What sort of thing do you want to hear about? Something useful? Or something you don’t already know, about how shitheaded it all is?”
Adam was maybe proving to be a not so wholesome influence.
You don't need sympathy
They got a pill for everything
"Things, huh?" There were plenty of people with similar jobs in the Drench, a myriad of different names applied to them depending on their exact speciality: Junkman, Fixer, Scavenger...somehow, he doubted Mallorie was digging around in old buildings for scrap and she didn't seem the sort to hunt down wanted people (though she had been an Enforcer, so it wasn't entirely ruled out). "What things have you found? Like, lost puppies and shit, or like, the Arbiter's fucking buttplug?"
The language was, as always, crass, but the question was legitimate.
Pursing his lips at his own joint-wrapping as a substantial amount of mystery filling fell out of the tip along with the ash, Adam considered her question. Really, for work, it was best to know the worst secrets Mallorie had to give; the real nasty stuff that had been hidden. When Adam tried to form that request though, he couldn't make his mouth co-operate.
Mallorie seemed ashamed of her past. Hurt by the realisations of what she had been and done. Maybe the worst memories could come later.
"Heh, you said shit. Uhh...oh, you know what, just tell me something funny. Or weird. Whatever. It's too hot for serious business." Besides, it might be nice to have a day without more oppressive bullshit.
Just take that dark cloud
Ring it out to wash it down
Breathe silently, make the ghostly voice surrender.
Things indeed. Mallorie mused on the job she’d given herself, down in the morasses of the city. Not so much an occupation as penance, sifting through peat for something she couldn’t find in the world above.
She ‘hmm’ed thoughtfully, before answering. “I’ve not found much of anything, lately. Beyond the wrong sides of people, I suppose.”
It was hard, getting work as a newcomer, especially in this particular field. She needed to build up some word of mouth, but was struggling to get the jobs necessary to build that - a nasty frustrating little cycle.
“Ideally I’d be helping in an investigatory capacity, but at the moment I seem to be a glorified Rooter Through Of Bins.” She titled her head. “...Occasionally I’m tapped to find family heirlooms.”
Or whatever passed as such, here.
She ignored his reference to the Arbiter, if only because she found the mental image…challenging. Watching Adam out of the corner of her eyes, she was curious what he might ask her for. A wealth of Enforcer info would be useful to anyone in the Drench. To someone in Adam’s line of work it was likely gold dust. Bronze or silver, at the very least.
His request for humour caught her off guard - Mallorie wasn’t (and had never been) known for her sense of humour. It was…tricky to decide what story would tickle Adam’s fancy. The time a superior locked themselves out of a scene and got caught in a downpour? Not ~out there~ enough. Perhaps when a colleague upset a cloud of bees?
Mallorie perused her options - in a pursuing mood now she was sufficiently cooled - and settled on one.
“I can tell you how I quit,” she stretched her legs out before her, almost lazily, then added, “though, I think that’s a very specific interpretation of ‘funny’”.
You don't need sympathy
They got a pill for everything
"You gotta solve a really big case then everyone'll want you to do theirs." Adam advised unhelpfully, immediately thinking of old detective stories he'd seen and heard as a kid, where a down-on-their-luck PI could just have a murder drop into their lap through no effort of their own. As he thought this over though, he seemed to recall all those detective stories took place in the Plates. "Though...lotsa people go missing and show up dead in the Drench and a lot of the time no one gives a fuck, or it's obvious Enforcers did it but like, what's the point in confirming that?"
Wasn't like they'd be able to do anything about it.
From his laid down position on the floor, he raised one long leg so his boot and ankle were in the path of the cold air, too lazy to get any closer but wanting at least a little bit of the cool relief on his skin. "Hell yeah. How'd you shove it to 'em? Backflip out with your fingers up?" Adam doubted that very much, but he liked the mental image.
Just take that dark cloud
Ring it out to wash it down
Breathe silently, make the ghostly voice surrender.
Adam’s suggestion was maybe not helpful, but it also wasn’t wrong. Mallorie just wasn’t sure where to get started on said Big Case. She decided to focus on the thing she did know - the story of how she left her job.
It was, in a weird way, her first tale of rebellion. It was also, thus, embarrassing. But Adam was the first person to extend friendship in his own, odd way, and Mallorie had it on good authority that friendship involved give and take.
“It’s hard to leave the Enforcers,” she explained, “sometimes you have to force their hand.”
Normally this meant ruining your own life, of course. Mallorie paused and stared at the vent, the ribbons fluttering in the breeze.
She was, frankly, a little unsure how Adam would take her past actions. Undoubtedly not offended, possibly amused - but she had a faint suspicion he would be unimpressed. Which didn’t mean much now she was down here, but still…
She sighed and continued.
“I decided to steal something, and make sure I got caught. Just a little light larceny.” She said, with a sarcastic hand gesture to punctuate “little”.
“The bastards tried to cover it up. No question, no punishment. They acted like it was just a rite of passage, told me they’d known I was one of them.”
Most people who quit went big, or burned out. She’d maybe lacked ambition in her means of achieving her goal - though it had, albeit not in the way she’d intended, succeeded. She looked at Adam, gauging his reaction as she delivered the closest thing to a punchline her life had.
“So I reported them, and myself in the process. Turns out they really don’t like it when you demand due process.”
Mallorie shut her eyes. In the cool flow of the vent, the heat was not just tolerable but almost pleasant now, compared to atop the Plates. Warm air flowing below, for the wealthy above - the choice of clinical cold.
You don't need sympathy
They got a pill for everything
Adam had heard stories of Enforcers trying to leave. Whenever one developed a conscious or a heart, they would always have a hard time dropping out of the ranks; the average officer knew too many secrets and stories of what went on in the force to be let loose. Honestly, the fact that Mallorie was still alive was remarkable, or perhaps a testament to her not knowing all that much about the Enforcer's dirty laundry.
"Whatcha steal? Just like, some guys socks, or something actually exciting?" He asked, though the answer was unlikely to ever satisfy him.
Unless it turned out she'd stolen the Arbiter's golden cock ring, the story as a whole was unsurprising. That the Enforcers were just as much criminals as the people they swore to stop was common knowledge. "So y'didn't want to be part of corrupt shit. Good, but why'd ya join at all?" He teased.
Just take that dark cloud
Ring it out to wash it down
