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 was raised as a scorpion, being pulled by the moon in high tide that's why i'm broken, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Adam’s amused groan sparks a playful smirk on Sunjata’s face, humming a soft laugh in response – feeling so much more at ease right now than he has in a while admittedly, always feeling like he has to have an eye out for literally anything. “I haven’t gotten a tattoo yet, but I imagine it can’t be horrible. Worse or better than getting shot?” He asks, raising a brow toward Adam, wondering what his thoughts on it might be. “I’d probably want them to start at my collarbone and go down my shoulder down the top half of my arm.” Which wouldn’t be cheap, of course. But an option that might cover him up enough to make him less noticeable.
As for jobs, he looks contemplative for a moment while Adam takes in the options he’s listed out. Granted, he’s never had a chance to think about being anything but an Enforcer and eventual Arbiter. Never had the freedom to try and figure out his own path with life. “What kind of stuff do you do?” He asks, tilting his head to focus his attention entirely on the other man.
"Y'know, this is probably gonna be a surprise, but I haven't actually been shot." It did seem like by now, with all the Enforcer-annoying and general mischief he got up to, he ought to have been, but Adam's body was delightfully bullet-free.
He had, however, gotten tattoos, most of which Sunjata would have seen during their earlier tryst - a compass on his right shoulder, large enough to wrap onto his back and collar, something that looked a bit like a fat crow on his ankle (it was a cool bat, okay) and a winky face near unmentionable areas, the latter addition something that he frequently forgot he had. "It hurts, but like...probably less than being shot. It's kind of more of like a..." Adam softly pressed his nail into Sunjata's arm and tapping it up and down, slid his finger along. "Like, a constant thing, you know? Instead of one big hit."
Stretching, he stopped mid-arm reach and opened one eye at Sunjata's question, laughing once it hit him. "You really don't know? I do do more than fuck and smoke. Promise." Not much more, but more. "I learn things. Listen to people. Hide in places and find stuff out. Some of it gets put on the show, things I think everyone should know. Other stuff...that sells."
i was raised as a scorpion, being pulled by the moon in high tide that's why i'm broken, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Oh, it absolutely is a surprise. So much so that he squints at Adam with a look that screams disbelief. But he lets it fade with a soft snort that leaves him afterwards. “I’ve been shot, so I guess I have something to gauge it against.” Even still, Adam’s own explanation does help, feeling the pressure of the nail pressed into his arm. “It sounds manageable.” There’s confidence in his tone that he doesn’t expect to be there – but even if he were dying from it, he’d stubbornly continue until it were done.
Adam stretches, however, and Sunjata’s arms tighten a fraction around him to keep him from losing his balance when Adam laughs and Sunjata already can’t help the roll of his eyes. “Do you?” He teases with a surprisingly playful smirk and a suggestive tone to his voice, a playful bounce of one eyebrow. “I mean, I know you did that. I just didn’t know you got paid for it.” He was with Adam when they’d raided the warehouse, after all. But aside from that? He doesn’t fuckin’ know a thing about how things work down here in the Drench and what and wasn’t profitable. Thanks to the Plates vs Drench propaganda he’d been fed.
Adam smiled innocently back at Sunjata as the truth sunk in. He was sure that at some point in his roguish, exciting life he would be shot, but that particular event had not yet occurred. With this whole debacle, though...he suspected he might not need to wait too long. "It is...you gotta keep it clean after though, or it'll go gross and your arms will fall off." That really would make him harder to recognise, but probably wasn't the optimal solution.
The concept of doing his work without being paid for it was so patently absurd it took him a moment to realise Sunjata meant it. He paused, hands on the Plater's shoulders, blinking, until a laugh began to take over his features, an undignified snort starting it off. "What, you think I'm doing this for charity? Fuck no, man!"
He rubbed his fingers together. "People pay for information. They pay a lot for it and I'm not gonna tell 'em to keep their money. Sometimes it's small time shit, like 'is my wife cheating on me?' - she always is, to bigger shit like state secrets." Sometimes, the marital issues paid better, if someone was feeling particularly spiteful about a wandering spouse.
i was raised as a scorpion, being pulled by the moon in high tide that's why i'm broken, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
The comment is probably an act of advice and instruction, but with the way Adam says it, Sunjata can’t help the snort of a laugh that leaves him at the idea of his arm falling off from it. “I can keep a jug of boiled water around and soap.” And for added emphasis, he squeezes Adam in his hold a little. “That way I can keep both my arms.”
As for the rest of it? With what Adam does for work? He meets the other man’s gaze with confusion in his own, his hands warm where they press against his shoulders as Adam laughs. Perhaps he never really considered it given that all the sleuthing and information gathering he’d done before deciding to escape had been for free.
So he tilts his head as he scans the other man’s face with those slightly less confused steel eyes as the explanation is given and he hums a soft laugh alongside his own idiocrasy. “So… All that shit I’ve kept tabs on, I could get paid for it down here?” It fell under state secrets, after all. But he’d have to figure out a way to make it hit the news without anyone realizing he’s the whistleblower.
"Oooh, man's got water and soap. Don't wave that Plates privilege around too much." He teased, squeezing Sunjata back with a cheeky grin.
Sunjata's clear confusion about his work was almost cute; in some ways, despite all he'd been through, he was still so innocent. Of course people paid for information. It was half of the city's economy at this point, with the constant tension and secrecy, the rivalry between the Plates and Drench. Any step up one side could get on the other, they would take.
He nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes you don't even need real information. Gotta be careful, but not everything you sell has to be true." Adam was not too proud to stoop to misinformation when he had to - sometimes for strategic means, sometimes for the Lasti. "And hey, give those secrets to me and I'll give you a cut."
i was raised as a scorpion, being pulled by the moon in high tide that's why i'm broken, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
The sarcasm hits his ears and warms him up a surprising amount, lips twisting into a playful smile as he chuckles a laugh and is squeezed in return. “Old habits die hard.” He retorts, before moving on from the conversations of tattoos – wondering if he could likely doodle up an idea in that notebook of his when he inevitably has to go back inside and hide like the fugitive he is.
For now, though, he doesn’t have to go anywhere – and he isn’t with the way Adam sits comfortably in his lap, and he lets his confusion show as the realization dawns on him, squinting to look back at the man in his lap. “Hm.” He pauses, considering it for a moment. “I was… Kind of wondering about whether or not I could get some of this information to the Drench Kings… But I certainly can’t go as myself.” So maybe a middleman would be best, and Adam has the know how to keep Sunjata’s involvement out of the need to know.
But perhaps, maybe it’s a little bit of insecurity showing through – something Shjaju would absolutely hate to see but hasn’t gotten it beat out of his son yet – when he seems to withdraw internally, watching the other man. “Actually... Do you think it’s a good idea to talk to them at all?” If the information would even be worth it to share.
Mention of the Drench Kings had Adam paying more attention, stopping his messing around to actually sit and listen - though it would be clear from the unimpressed raise of his eyebrow that he didn't think much of the 'royalty' down here. "If you value your fucking sanity, no. Bunch of self-important dickheads." He said freely, not worrying if anyone overheard that - they needed to hear it more often.
"Buuuut..." He sighed and tilted his head side to side, tracing circles on Sunjata's shoulder with his fingertip. "They do pay well, if you have something they want." Sunjata certainly would have knowledge that was valuable to the Drench Kings, but it would be difficult to explain how Adam had gotten access to it without giving him up. If Shaju then put up an award for his son...it would be a matter of minutes before Sunjata was dragged back to the Plates.
He shook his head. "For now, let's not. It's just...a big mess waiting to happen and we've got enough on. The last thing we need to add to the clusterfuck is 'kings' sticking their necks in." Adam smiled. "But you are starting to think right. Who needs what and what they'll pay, that's the whole thing. Who knows, maybe you can be a Drench King yourself one day. Make daddy really proud."
i was raised as a scorpion, being pulled by the moon in high tide that's why i'm broken, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
The honest answer has surprise streaking across the Bratena’s face, brows pinching in confusion and perhaps a bit of awe at the audacity that Adam speaks of the Drench Kings with. Of course, they were considered the big baddies to the young Enforcer, and as someone who grew up on the Plates, any kind of criticism for those in charge was heavily frowned upon. So it’s at odds with what he knows of etiquette, to hear it so plainly said, while simultaneously working the gears in his head to realize that yes, things were very different down here and he needed to learn to adjust quicker rather than later.
“I probably do, if I wasn’t… Y’know, sought after.” If Shaju couldn’t care less of him fraternizing with the Drench in general, then it wouldn’t be a problem. But alas, his father would do whatever it took to try and get him back or any information offered, and he already knows that’s a piss poor idea to start with. So he huffs a quiet sigh and nods, giving into his own little selfish desires (and very strictly not Plates decorum) when he leans forward and buries his face into Adam’s shoulder with an almost defeated, embarrassed look.
Being a Drench King down here wasn’t exactly something he wished for, but saints if that’s what it took to get any change? Then maybe. “Might give the Arbiter a big enough heart attack to kill him.” He admits with a snort, shaking his head while still pressed against Adam’s shoulder.
Sunjata pressed his head into Adam's shoulder and Adam automatically reached up to pat his hair, the other arm wrapping around his shoulders. While they were talking about Drench Kings and information and Sunjata's ridiculously evil dad, there was something pleasantly domestic about the position they'd found themselves in.
He huffed a quiet laugh of his own. "Cold. But hey, maybe it's worth a go." Sometimes, he wondered if Sunjata felt bad in any way for being so opposed to his father. For Adam, who had always yearned to know his own, it felt like it had to hurt to have one there that you hated so goddamn much. There wasn't a way to bring it up that wouldn't be hurtful, though, so he stayed quiet and held Sunjata against himself in the quiet for a while.
Outside of their little alcove, the sounds of the Drench beginning to truly wake up were beginning to make themselves known. Shop keepers opening shutters, beggars setting out their mats, performers lighting torches and rehearsing. Patting Sunjata's shoulderblade, he softly mumbled: "You should get back inside. Someone could come by any time."
