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
the inmate loves the prison guard the one who feeds him through the bars
The huff is returned, Nate shaking his head and pressing the hat down more firmly on Sunjata’s head, forcing it to dip over his eyes. “You’re all covered up most the time anyway. Who cares past that?” It’s a rhetorical question. Nate might be from the Drench but Shaju, more than any other head, had a reputation.
The closeness between the doesn’t seem to phase the doctor, his eyes scamming the crowd while walk. “Distraction.” Its not meant to be heard, mumbled under his breath as they come closer to an open square overlooking the hazy glow of the Drench below.
A finger taps Sunjata’s cheek before it pushes his head casually towards a door, flanked on one side by a bored looking enforcer and a keypad on the other. “He’s got friends wandering around too.” Nate hums and leans them against a wall inconspicuously.
no day or night, no one can tell so he paints the ceiling full of stars
“I’m not up on the noble plate. Or the Core.” He responds almost blandly, still hating the hair cut for what it was, what it meant. It’s not his fault, though, that Nate only ever sees him bundled up in the Drench and here in the hopes he won’t attract too much unwanted attention.
He’s guided, though, still tucked into Nate’s warmth which truthfully takes a lot of getting used to. The square opens up beneath them and he focuses on a part he likely shouldn’t be, because Nate’s directing his head toward the spot they need and his eyes land on the enforcer standing there beside the keypad.
He turns his head back toward Nate, pressing against the hand that might still be at his cheek. “So someone should either start a fight or lure away. Actually—” he pauses, brows pinching as his voice drops to a whisper. “If we lure one away I can use the radio to make a false claim.”
the inmate loves the prison guard the one who feeds him through the bars
Thé off duty engorcer is indeed lucky enough to find Nate’s fingers still pressed against his cheek, curling as steel eyes turn back to him. Sunjata’s skin is cool from the rain, despite their closeness, and the fingers burn into him. “Just one? Easy” Nate scans the courtyard again, zeroing in on his target. She’s not anyone he recognizes, but runners all have a similar look about them.
Turning to face Sunjata with an expression that cradles such heavy tenderness it draws him into its gravitational field, Nate opens his mouth and breathes his next words with a warm smile. “How much lasti you got on you?”
no day or night, no one can tell so he paints the ceiling full of stars
He hopes it’s easy but he isn’t so sure, not with how confident Nate is for luring or distracting the one. The rest is another issue, but for now? That enforcer seems bored, and it’s something he isn’t all too familiar with — being too far on edge whenever he’s stationed down below. If he’s being honest, it sounds almost comfortable compared to what he’s used to. “Enough, I hope.” He responds slowly and quietly to Nate, reaching into his pockets.
He pulls out all the lasti he has on him, and while it’s not much it’s more than what Nate had offered to bribe him into not admitting that the doctor didn’t have all the records requested. So the money clinks as he counts it in his pocket, withdrawing it into his hand as if to show Nate, offering it up for him to make the thought a bit more known.
Were they going to bribe the enforcer? Bribe someone to start a fight? He doesn’t know.
the inmate loves the prison guard the one who feeds him through the bars
The lasti disappears form Sunjata’s hand faster than he can blink, held tightly in Nate’s hand so the metal doesn’t make a sound. “Stay.” It’s an order, not a request, a firm hand squeezing one last press of warm pressure against the enforcers shoulder before Nate steps away to talk to the girl he’d pegged earlier, offering out the lasti before going around to the handful of misplaced drenchers milling around.
After a few minutes he returns to Sunjata side and rubs his throat. Cogs start to turn as the girl he’d given the lasti to approaches the enforcer at the door. They’re too far away to hear what story she spins, but Nate lolls his head towards the other man with a smug smirk when the enforcer visibly sighs and follows her.
An arm wraps around Sunjata again as Nate starts to walk them towards the door. “Get rid of the others.” He hisses softly out of the corner of his mouth, leaning in so closely his lips drag against Sunjata’s ear again, Nate’s breath just barely warmer than his lips.
no day or night, no one can tell so he paints the ceiling full of stars
He’s told to stay, and stay he does. And while it shouldn’t surprise him how fast the lasti disappears, there’s a part of it that still does have his heartbeat thundering. So in the meantime he tugs the hat down a bit tighter, squints through the drizzling rain and pretends for all the life of him he’s just taking some random break, like the rain and his errands have become too much for him to trudge on.
It isn’t until Nate’s back and their gazes both watch the show begin to start, the enforcer stepping away to help the one that has distracted her, and when Nate’s warm arm wraps around him again, he immediately starts walking toward it. Nate’s lips at his ears spark more of that hot red along his skin, but he clears his throat and picks up the radio, straightening up and pressing against Nate as he does so.
“This is 324, requesting backup on POSE Edge northeast corner.” It’s a random dispatch number, but one he’s heard before, and while his heartbeat thunders he clicks off the radio and waits for the response. A few heartbeats more and he hears a gruff voice with a Copy. Units on their way.
It’s a false call and far enough to not attract attention yet close enough to get the current enforcers on this side of the Edge to wander over to investigate. In fact, he can hear the instructions given — however muffled — to the one that had passed them by in the alley, a street over.
the inmate loves the prison guard the one who feeds him through the bars
Their steps slow just a little bit as the fake call goes out, Nate keeping an eye on the duo of patrolling enforcers as they disappear down one of the alleys, leaving the square unprotected for the moment. Depositing them next to the keypad, Nate keeps his back to Sunjata until the telltale click of a disengaged lock sounds.
Without waiting Nate turns and drags the door open, ushering the sudden crush of Drenchers down into the service tunnels, the path thankfully fairly straightforward, if long.
Their time runs out too quickly though, a whistle sounding as the initial guard returns, and rushes towards them. Without thinking Nate grabs Sunjata and the few people in reach and drags them all through the door, slamming it behind them as they go. A quick jam is shoved into the door before Nate ushers people down, directing some towards a rickety service elevator and more towards stairs.
Before too long the group has dispersed, people working out their own ways down and home while Nate continues down the stairs, too tired to bother finding any other way home. They make the longest, but it’s at least straightforward.
no day or night, no one can tell so he paints the ceiling full of stars
It starts to work, and while the act itself has been surprising and rejuvenating, well, it quickly becomes stressful, anxiety inducing. The crush of people and the sudden attention brought? He’s half tempted to try and slip out, to get out from under it, do the double play of pretending to try and catch them despite him being off duty and nevermind the fact that he was at the front of the crush.
He doesn’t get the chance to, though, as Nate drags him through alongside them, and suddenly Sunjata’s heartbeat is thundering in his ears, drowning out everything else. How does he get back? How does he explain it? Where does he go from here?
He isn’t at all prepared.
He swallows hard, shoves his hands into his pockets and trudges after Nate when the commotion dies down, following him because he has no fucking clue where to go. “So… Am I staying here for the night then?” He asks, voice tight, gaze following the work footprints in the floor.
the inmate loves the prison guard the one who feeds him through the bars
Nate blinks across at Sunjata, almsot surprised to find him there still – he’d assumed he’d gotten lost in the crush, or found his own way back to where he needed to be. Stepping out in front of Sunjata, a stair below but still standing eye to eye, Nate reaches out to squeeze Sunjata’s shoulders.
“Better to be missing a night than coming home with enforcers, right?” The words are an assumption, an attempt to shove away the guilt at having dragged the aristocrat down into this, as though he doesn’t deserve worse. They all do. And they’d done a good thing.
Forcing a sigh through his teeth, Nate turns and starts walking again, pulling the other man along by his shoulder. “I’ll make sure you have a safe place to spend the night, eh?”
no day or night, no one can tell so he paints the ceiling full of stars
Being eye level with Nate is somehow surprisingly jarring for him, as is the surprise when the hand comes to squeeze his shoulder, the Aristocrat drawing them a bit tighter, ducking his head a fraction as he follows Nate, uncertainty crossing his mind and body expression as clear as day. “It’s going to be bad either way.” But that was the point wasn’t it?
To put up with the retaliation because at least he’s done some good?
That’s what he’ll tell himself as he tries to fall asleep tonight. “Yeah… Alright.” He says quietly, tugged along at the tightly drawn shoulders by the other man, waiting to see where they’re going and what kind of terrible, fitful night he’s in for. After all, if the sounds of Bratena Manor didn’t soothe him, he finds it far more disarming that he’ll be trying to sleep to the sound of the Drench.
