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
don't know what you're thinking of do i chip away or keep defenses up?
There’s a moment when the question hits that Sunjata is actually prepared. And with it he takes a deep breath, keeping his cheek pressed to his arm as he squints over at Nate with one eye. “I have.” He reiterates the point. No more rich fancy mansion of a home (one that’s so devoid of warmth it’s closer to a crypt), no more engagements, no more being told and trained that it’s perfectly acceptable to ruin people’s lives who are already at rock bottom. “I’d be giving up my entire life, my family, the lasti, my House.” He starts to trail off, but he thinks Nate gets the gist.
Suddenly though, the closeness is back, the hand at his shoulder stark warm compared to the cold he’s so used to feeling that it surprises him, goosebumps rising under the wake of it as Nate tends to the leeches. The gentle touches around the wound where the leech had sat feels surprisingly better, so much so that Sunjata’s shoulder beneath the bandage starts to sag slightly. He sighs contently with the realization. “So much better.” He breathes it as some kind of conspiratorial whisper. As if saying it aloud might make it disappear.
don't make a sound, if it gets too loud will you hear me come around?
The new conviction is the other man’s voice is enough to put Nate off balance, surprise clear on his face. There has been thought put into this, and before he can stop himself he finds himself blurting out: “Well at least you wouldn’t be left alone down here.” In a world that was fair, Nate would also be flushed red by the words, but somehow he can convince himself they’re casual, platonic. An offer he’d make to anyone.
Luckily there’s no chance to dwell on it, that casual offer morphed into easy professionalism quickly. “Good. I’m glad.”Taping the bandage down with a single piece of tape, Nate shifts to look at the other leech.
One hand settles around Sunjata’s hip while the other seems to be stroking circles into the enforcers skin, Nate mumbling under his breath at the leech. “This one’s just gonna be a little bit longer. And then we’ll get your brace back on.”
don't know what you're thinking of do i chip away or keep defenses up?
The offer is one he also pretends that it’s just that, an offer the doctor would give to anyone any ounce of his worth, and it numbs some of the reaction he’d otherwise put into it. He can think about it later when he actually has time to and isn’t face to face with it. And luckily, the bandage being added on is one such distraction that keeps it professional, until the numbing starts to wear off a fraction, the announcement that the next one would take a little longer, and the hand at his hip and the other drawing pictures into his bruised, numbed back.
He buries his face fully now but he’s sure the splotches of the red extend from his neck down his spine, the touch granting little goosebumps in their wake even if Nate isn’t paying attention to it. Sunjata tries to slow his heartbeat down, measuring his breaths and trying to think less on it and more the relief it’ll bring (because obviously he’s reading into things too fast, too naive, right? A touch starved prince of the Enforcers couldn’t possibly misread anything, right? Right?)
“Sounds good.” He manages to speak, his voice a carefully crafted mix of relaxed, rumbling deeper at the attempt to cover anything else up.
don't make a sound, if it gets too loud will you hear me come around?
Nate’s touch is just distracted enough to keep him from feeling selfish, his fingers moving in a soft, repetitious sweep. Goosebumps are chased after like a mirage in the desert, the end just out of reach. “Good. Feeling better puppy?” His voice is just as low, the rumble so deep it sounds like he’s overcompensating for something.
There’s a sudden throb of pressure as Nate brushes his thumb against the leech, testing its grip, and immediately withdrawing. “Shit, sorry.” The touch returns again with another smear of the numbing, Nate far more delicate about its application this time. “I should know to take my time with a patient like you.”
And as you stumble through your last crusade
(This post was last modified: 10-18-2022, 02:50 AM by Nate.)
don't know what you're thinking of do i chip away or keep defenses up?
Oh it certainly is distracting. It’s also impossible to keep himself from latching onto the delicate touches, the swaths of the fingers that chase after the goosebumps. It’s perhaps one of the nicest touches he’s received recently, and with it his skin continues to flare red, face burrowing into his arms as he hears Nate’s own deep rumble, a sound that somehow manages to burn itself into his mind.
His lips part to make some comment with the pressure increases suddenly, a small sting of pain that’s met with a surprised gasp, an “ah!” That slips surprised from his lips as he clamps his jaw shut tight and focuses on trying to get back on track. But the follow-up comment keeps him just as rooted, counting his heartbeats as he figures out how to respond.
“A patient like me?” He asks, craving the clarification, wanting to know the real answer though he doubts he’ll get it.
don't make a sound, if it gets too loud will you hear me come around?
The gasp that leaves Sunjata etches itself into Nate’s brain, his hands fully withdrawing once he’s applied the numbing gel. They fold in his lap, the resignation of a guilty man, his clouded eyes locked on some cracked tile in the corner.
“Eh,” the way Nate works his jaw is audible, though it’s impossible to tell why. Embarrassment at being caught out? Pity for the other man? His last shred of sense pleading for him to bite his tongue? “I mean soft.”
The sharp sound of Nate sucking his teeth drags itself into the air between them. “Not that there’s… anything wrong with it. It’s kinda c-” his jaw clamps shut so tightly his teeth snap, red colouring just the tips of Nate’s ears, a show that’s only on for the few short moments before he stands, and fusses with his back to the other man.
don't know what you're thinking of do i chip away or keep defenses up?
Internally, Sunjata regrets the fact he’s let any sound slip, regrets that its made the other man take his hands off of his back, that it stopped the gentle touch that even despite it being a few moments since they’d been there, it feels cold in the space of it being gone. And alongside it? Well, being called soft, one that has a noncommittal hum leaving him as he lifts his head enough to rub his face with his free hand, hiding his eyes and mouth as he does so, feeling the regret turn to stone in his stomach.
Soft was always something that his father told him in an attempt to make him stronger, that being soft was something that made one less. That it was a useless personality trait and ’no son of mine will be soft,’ forever etched into his brain. And since it’s truly the only kind of comment he’d gotten with the term? It feels like an immediate let down, like he’d been too naïve to get his hopes up over this.
He chides himself internally, a never ending mantra of stupid, stupid, stupid, but he listens too. And when Nate continues, the clamp of the jaw clicking shut, it stills him as he racks his brain around what Nate was about to say. And despite the mixed feelings in his gut over it, the hand drops from his face to peer curiously over to where Nate had sat, seeing the back of the doctor when he asks “you think so?" A quieter question.
don't make a sound, if it gets too loud will you hear me come around?
There is no part of Nate that is under any illusions that he isn’t digging right now. There are internal arguments about what exactly he’s digging down into, but the one thing he’s sure of is every time he opens his mouth he sinks down a little deeper, unable to help himself.
Nate’s form goes rigid, red overtaking his ears completely now. Shoulders jerk up and down in a reluctant shrug, a careless panicked sniff leaving him. “Guess I fuckin’ said it, didn’t I? Not like guys who wear body armour all the time can be all that tough anyway.” The words all come out just a little too quickly to not stumble.
“Not like it matters what I think anyway, right?” Hands start moving again, reaching into the cupboards to grab another bandage and some cotton pads, despite already having some out beside the table.
don't know what you're thinking of do i chip away or keep defenses up?
More mixed signals rise to the surface with the way Nate seems to both try to cover it up yet also admit it and Sunjata doesn’t know whether to take him at face value with the words or not – but he’s young, naïve, and it isn’t often that he gets praise that isn’t some ridiculous tabloid that spins a story carefully crafted by Shaju that he’s supposed to play the part to.
“Well… Some of them are.” Every one of them in his unit is. Every one of them reminds him daily the things that he’s lacking in his father’s eyes.
But when it comes to whether it matters what Nate thinks? He can see the bit of red from Nate’s ears, poking through the rough curls, and he gives Nate the relief of turning his gaze away, tilting his face to the other side so he can stare at the wall opposite of Nate as he tries to pick his next answer, knowing fully well it’s digging himself into a deeper hole too. “Maybe not overall, but it matters to me if I'm being honest.” There’s a shrug from the shoulder with the bandage.
After all, it isn’t every day that a Drencher like Nate has opinions like that about the Aristocrats, he’s sure.
don't make a sound, if it gets too loud will you hear me come around?
A rough snort leaves Nate as he grabs onto the words like a life preserver, trying to cling to the different subject. “Sure.” The cupboards snap closed and he finally shifts, still not looking at Sunjata, but resting with his hip on the counter, almost facing him again. “Bunch of guys raised in the sun. Why do you think they all need that armour?” They’re just words, easy bluffs and noise.
Fireworks that don’t last nearly as long as Nate was counting on, the subject swooping back towards whatever it is they’re dancing around so quickly he feels his stomach twist. “Oh yeah?” Nate dares the other man to say more, the weight of his intense stare pressing into Sunjata. “Why’s that?”
Blue eyes lift off the enforcer again, Nate stepping close and pressing a hand to Sunjata’s back, the leech rolling off effortlessly this time. Once again gentle hands press a bandage over the wound, the bruises less intense. The extra padding is a surprise, pressed against the places the brace has rubbed raw marks into freckled skin.
