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
There were plenty of things that Savera could ask about, some of them less dangerous than others; the one she chose was certainly something he'd have to lie about. Internally swearing at Nate, thinking he'd always known this was going to be a problem, Adam feigned an almost offended confusion, furrowing his brow and pursing his lips as he shrugged.
"I don't fucking know. Isn't that your job?" He almost rolled his eyes, but decided that might be a step too far. "I haven't seen Jata since the last time he was down here. He doesn't keep me up to date on his goddamn calendar." It would be foolish to deny he knew the Arbiter's heir, but downplaying their connection was likely for the best. Muscles in his arm tensing under Savera's grip, he watched for her reaction, trying to see if his lie had been enough.
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
all the good girls go to hell cus even god herself has enemies
She scowls at his frank denial, eyes narrowing behind her mask. If he's a liar, he's a convincing one. Nothing in Adam's voice or body language tells Savera anything other than what he's said; and the fact that he cops to knowing her fiancée only sells the lie that much more.
Still Savera does not let up her grip or her frustration. Indeed her hold on him only tightens as he tenses, fingers refusing to yield against his attempt at steering her away. "I don't believe you," she growls, and she doesn't, can't, because she needs answers and so far he's her best only lead. And if nothing about him says he's lying, nothing says he's telling the truth, either.
"I know you know him. And I know he's here." One of these statements is true; the other, a speculation. "I don't want to hurt him, only talk. You can tell me where he is, or I can make things difficult for you." She twists his arm for emphasis.
once the waters start to rise and heaven's out of sight she'll want the devil on her team
Without being able to see the Enforcer's face, it was hard to know if his lie had landed, but Adam kept up the face of nonplussed ignorance. Besides, it was technically true - he didn't know where Sunjata was right at this moment.
The whole thing was Nate's idea, anyway. He wasn't going down for it.
"Too fucking bad, cos it's true." Shrugging, clearly frustrated as he strained against the grip on his arm, he sighed and rolled his eyes, huffing as her hands got tighter. "I. Don't. Know. Don't know why you think I would. I'm just a dude having a fucking ciggie in the evening. Yeah, I've seen him around, but everyone in the Drench has. I've seen his fiancee down here too and lots of spoiled Plates kids. They like to come down to visit. See the Drenchers." Like a zoo exhibit.
He tried to pull his arm away. "Can I go now, please?"
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
all the good girls go to hell cus even god herself has enemies
I've seen his fiancée down here too. It takes everything she has not to flinch, tension working through her jaw as a chill runs down her spine. Shit shit shit. But he doesn't seem to recognize her now, and that's really her only saving grace. His description is deeply unflattering, if not untrue, though spoiled Plates kid isn't how Savera would ever describe herself.
Then again, before tonight she wouldn't have called herself brutish, either.
Like a sponge being squeezed Savera feels the righteous rage rush out of her, replaced by tired resignation, an exhausted sense of defeat. Is this what she's been reduced to, she wonders: a child playing at adult clothes, thinking power makes her right? A Plater who believes she can shake whatever she wants out of those below her? She doesn't belong with them anymore, but she can never truly be part of the Plates.
She lets her grasp on Adam loosen, but not quite enough he can slip away. "Fine." The baton hangs languid at her side; she's tired, and it's obvious he isn't going to crack. Not unless she crosses a line she isn't ready to toe. "But if you see him- tell him he owes me. More than what he left behind."
once the waters start to rise and heaven's out of sight she'll want the devil on her team
Thankfully, finally, Savera's grip loosened and she relented - for a moment, Adam had seen himself crawling up to Nate's clinic in the early hours of the morning, bleeding from who-knows-what. As soon as the hand on his arm was gone he rubbed it and took two steps back, shaking his head.
"Uh...sure. Shit, let me get you his address and you can send it on scented fucking paper." He quipped back, feeling a little more confident now that the Enforcer had backed off. Sarcasm aside though, the seemingly personal message did draw his interest, enough to make him linger just a moment longer than he might have done. Making sure he was a few feet back and with a hand on his gun before he asked (casual, casual, like he was just resting his fingers): "Sounds like he owes you something, huh?"
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
