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
Adam didn't like being mad. He didn't like wanting to have a talk; it made him feel like a nagging housewife or harsh schoolmaster. There really wasn't a way around it though: Nate had misstepped, massively, in a way that would affect the both of them, and they had to talk it through. Without Sunjata there.
He woke up bleary from the whatever-Nate-had-given-him the night before, but was quickly up and in casual pajamas, pulling a cigarette from his jacket pocket on the floor and waking Nate with very little sympathy for any protests. He did, at the very least, give him a cigarette too. They'd both need them.
Once they were out in the cold Drenak morning air, stood outside the doorway of the stairwell that lead to the clinic, basically the only ones on the street, Adam put his smoke between his lips and lit it quickly, passing the lighter over as he asked, in a flat voice: "You get why I'm pissed at you, right?"
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
the inmate loves the prison guard the one who feeds him through the bars
It’s not the wake-up call Nate wants, not compared to the last time Adam had stayed over, but there is absolutely no getting around the fact that it’s the one he deserves. That thought is the only thing that keeps him from grumbling, pushing up off the floor and scrounging for a jacket to throw on over his shorts and the tank he’d passed out in, zipping it up and tugging at it until it sat just so.
Bleary eyes barely trace Adam as he follows him out into the street, Nate letting himself shiver for a moment before shaking it off and leaning against the wall with the unlit smoke in his mouth. “Yeah I get it.” Nate mumbles back, accepting the lighter. He pauses on the way to lighting his smoke though, roughly rubbing the sleep from his eyes before glancing at the other man. “He was about to walk into the fuckin’ swamp though.” An excuse, the first of many that are going to leave him, but the strongest he has to start with.
“Shouldn’t have brought you into it though.” A click and a flash of light and acrid smoke frame the words, Nate managing the decency of looking at least a little uncomfortable with what he’d done.
no day or night, no one can tell so he paints the ceiling full of stars
The squinted glare Adam was giving Nate just dared him to disagree, but it seemed the Doctor was sensible enough not to. While that was probably good for him, Adam found himself a little disappointed to not have the opportunity to yell; instead he sighed and slumped back on the wall, shaking his head. "Kay, well at least we're getting that far."
He stared at his feet as Nate started on Sunjata's sob story. The most annoying thing was that Adam got it, to an extent: he was fond of the Plater and didn't want him to die in a muddy mess either. Still.
"Nate, we're fucking Drenchers. Proper Choke Alleys kids. We don't throw ourselves on the fire for a Goddamn Plater. Even if we like him. Even if we sucked his dick." While his words were typically crass and certainly harsh, Adam kept his voice low in case anyone was listening on from a window or alley nearby. "Shaju is gonna bring down the fucking law on us so fast you won't even see your clinic go before you're hanging off a Plate."
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
the inmate loves the prison guard the one who feeds him through the bars
Nate looks out over the rail to the ground below and for a single selfish second considers it. Two birds, one stone. He knows better though, and perhaps more importantly is spitefully married to cleaning up his own messes.
"Look, no," Nate sucks in a deep breath through his nose and stands up straight, looking Adam dead on with bloodshot eyes, "No signs point here, right? Got a letter up there going to mommy." He pauses to take a breath, folding in half to hold his knees and heave in another breath. It's only a momentary intermission, his face slightly paler when he rises up again. "It's not enough to be forever. But," he bites his tongue and pauses, turning to glare at some early morning wanderer and hurry them along.
The glare continues over his shoulder before he turns back to Adam, Nate blinking to pull back his train of thought. "It's long enough to bury him." Both hands come out, a half-assed tada. "Don't even need help."
no day or night, no one can tell so he paints the ceiling full of stars
The mention of 'mommy' made Adam pause, his brow furrowed as he stared at Nate for a moment. "Like. Like Jata's mum? Isn't she in bloody Garanez?" Hopefully, Nate meant someone else, though the list of people he'd call 'mommy' was short (at least Adam thought so). He sighed, shook his head yet again and took a draw of his smoke, the motion obviously the best form of self-comfort he could get right now.
He joined Nate in glaring at the stranger passing by until they were well out of earshot. Adam's eyes still lingered on the departing figure as Nate continued to talk, something in him more than a little paranoid about all this getting out to the Enforcers somewhere.
"Bury him? What's your master plan for that then, genius?" He was, perhaps, being a bit mean, but he didn't feel like being kind.
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
the inmate loves the prison guard the one who feeds him through the bars
Dark brows furrow, Nate’s hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he goes over his words again and fixes the misunderstanding. “Yes, she is. And he said he’s going there. So they check there first, right?” The sharpness of his words isn’t actually directed at Adam, even if it sounds like it, but Nate is careful to keep his gaze pointed down to the ground and not at the other man. He’s hungover and sore and only just realizing the depth of the hole he’s dug, how quickly it’s filling in again with mud.
Pulling the smoke away from his lips to reveal the chewed end Nate gestures, his arm sweeping out at nothing. “By the time they look here he’ll be hidden.” Blue eyes rise up to Adams face again, bleary and struggling to actually look at the other man. “I’m good at hiding shit, right? You know that. And I won’t even involve you, you don’t have to know shit pst here.” It’s the least he can do, the only thing he can insist on. He’s not going to drag Adam into his own mistakes.
no day or night, no one can tell so he paints the ceiling full of stars
"He said that? To who?" Adam asked, still not impressed by this plan - Sunjata was already known to lie to his father and there were guards at the entrances and exits to the city who would have presumably noticed the heir going by. While Nate seemed confident the search would not begin in the Drench, he wasn't so sure.
Looking over at Nate, Adam fancied he could see it dawning on his long-time friend that he'd fucked up. He hoped it was, anyway. With a long suck on his cigarette he drew it to the end and butt it out against the wall.
As far as him not having to be involved, Adam met Nate's eyes with a flat look. "Of course I'm gonna be involved. Nate, we haven't taken a fucking shit without each other in over a decade." Maybe a little bit of an exaggeration, but it was true their lives were tangled beyond undoing by now. "Just wish you'd told me I'd be doing this."
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
the inmate loves the prison guard the one who feeds him through the bars
Silence sits uncomfortably between them, Nate chewing his cheek and pulling harder on his smoke as no easy answer comes to mind. And when one finally decided to grace his tongue, it’s slow, and not at all confident. “His fiancée. Told her he was going, she’s gotta be…” Something, but actually saying that part out loud makes the words sound even worse.
Letting his cigarette fall to the ground the same time Adam’s does, Nate turns to face the friend that he did not in any way deserve and leans into him, arms wrapping around his gangly frame in a weak hug. Adam will feel his mouth and close a few times, words not making it out for one reason or another, and then Nate’s hands tighten against his back. “You smelled shits worse than this then.”
Pulling back with a deep breath, Nate focuses on Adam’s face, looking up from under brows pulled together just enough for the slightest crease to worry between them. The corners of his smile are pulled tight, rivalling the grip his hands have on the other man’s shoulders. “We’ll get through it though, yeah?” Words for the both of them, but the hand that creeps up to pat Adam’s cheek is just for him, warm and heavy when it settles there. “Love you.”
no day or night, no one can tell so he paints the ceiling full of stars
It definitely sounded like Nate was making up whatever he was saying as it came out, so Adam didn't pay much attention to it. His own plans to fix this would be more important than whatever cobbled-together panicked ideas Nate had now he was sober. He had the contacts, the knowledge of how information travelled in this place, a reputation and favours owed he could use to pull some strings.
It was still some deep, deep shit they were in, but it was something he could tackle, if he was careful and Nate didn't make anymore stupid high decisions.
He hadn't realised how much tension he'd been holding in his shoulders until they relaxed at Nate's touch, a sigh leaving him as Adam leaned back into the hold. "I mean, you do fart pretty fucking bad." They stayed like that for a moment, Adam kindly not asking Nate to elaborate on whatever he was trying to say, waiting until he was ready to speak; when he did, an at first reluctant but then genuine smile warmed his face.
"I know. I love you too. It's the only way you get away with shit like this." Holding onto Nate's shoulders, he leaned forward to kiss his temple. "I got work to do now though. You might not see me around the clinic for a couple days."
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
