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'm going back to my roots another day, another door, another high, another low rock bottom, rock bottom, rock bottom
For Sunjata, this has been a trip he’s taken often. A tram ride to the DEPOT Plate, mainly for training and trials. But this time, it’s different. He’s cuffed and held by not only his fellow enforcers, but one of the worst he knows leading them. He hates every second of it, though it doesn’t outweigh the guilt he has as he glances sidelong at Cian, wrapped up in it unbeknownst to him.
And still, all he can think about is the friendship lost because of it. That yet again, Sunjata’s managed to ruin one thing good about his existence. So he remains silent as the tram slows to the DEPOT Plate and they’re pulled out of the tram, brought to the enforcer head quarters for questioning – likely wondering why the fuck Sunjata hadn’t come straight home, hadn’t even tried to reach out and call, why he was gone in the first place, and who the fuck Cian was.
They’re left in a holding pen for a moment, tossed into the barred cell and locked, and Sunjata quietly wonders who’s about to come and question them. And all the while he keeps his gaze to the floor, the shuffle of the cuffs at his wrists clinking loudly in his ears as he avoids looking at Cian, unsure what to say given that an I’m sorry doesn’t seem to cut it.
Sabotaged myself again, got a brain like a hurricane
So I ask myself, when will I learn?
No one knows what a mess I'm in
The tram ride felt like it took forever and was all to fast at the same time. Cian kept still and silent the entire time, with his gaze locked to the floor and mind roaring like a storm. A few times, the same thought had come forward: Had Sunjata set him up for some reason? But he had let the through blow away each time, since Sunjata had actually urged him to get away as soon as the enforcers showed up. He just had no idea why he was taken with.
By the time the tram stop at DEPOT, nausea from the anxiety has risen in Cian's throat and he would be glad he was running on an empty stomach if it wasn't for the twisting feeling it instead created. All he can do is to grit his teeth in an attempt to keep quiet over the pain in his legs as they are hauled out of the trams and over to the headquarters. During the whole walk, Cian does not dare to lift his gaze from the ground. Afraid any extra movement would trigger an enforcer to lash out. He has no idea what is going on and why, but he can tell himself for certain that it is really fucking bad.
He is not so very gently shoved into the holding pen and staggers forward a few steps before his pained leg decides to give out and drops him down onto his knees. For the first time, he lifts his gaze and looks around. He spots Sunjata and gives the man a pleading look, not daring to utter a single words. He also realizes he is trembling. As much as he wants to be able to but on a brave face and face all this stoically, he is terrified and soon hangs his head low whether Sunjata had looked his way or not.
CIAN
My mind feels like an archenemy
The reader of this text has standing permission for responsible powerplay and to use physical/magical force against this character. Instant killing and permanently maiming not included.
Well, this certainly was not the average interrogation.
Not only was it occurring within a period of unrest, the lockdown and recent fight at the masquerade giving the air a particularly tense taste, he had been surprised to see the name of the Arbiter's son among those he was to speak to. True, Sunjata had never quite made his father's expectations, but to be caught in a Drench plot? It was unspeakable, the kind of thing they had to squash now before it became a more serious issue. Before the boy filled his head with silly ideas of successful revolution.
He headed down the corridor to the interrogation room with the same curt, professional gait as always; nowadays there was a slight limp, but the way he thrust the cane down to meet the floor provided a clack that ran between his footsteps loudly. Before the door he closed his eyes a moment, took a breath, then turned the handle.
The door opened slowly, Samuel coming in as if he were entering for a casual lunch date, going first to a table across the way and setting down some papers, ignoring the prisoners entirely. He shuffled through them until a particular document was on the top and once satisfied with the order, he turned and stared at the men, Sunjata first then Cian.
"I am Adjudant Officer Samuel Tsinbrog. Of course, we have met-" He focused on Sunjata. "-Under much less dire circumstances." He took a few steps towards the bars, staying a metre or so away. Samuel's voice was clipped and cold, almost robotic in the way it flowed with no indication of his inner being. "Do either of you know why you've been detained today?" A bit of a test to start, to see what they would say - cold green eyes flicked occasionally between the two of them, waiting for one to answer.
This planet's overrun There's nothing left for you or for me
(This post was last modified: 01-09-2023, 12:28 AM by Samuel.)
i'm going back to my roots another day, another door, another high, another low rock bottom, rock bottom, rock bottom
It settles like an uncomfortable wave, Sunjata looking over at Cian precisely at the point that the other man looks away. And so, he chews at his lip until he finds enough courage within him to speak next, finding the words on the tip of his tongue to speak, to offer that apology when he hears the dull click of a cane through the walls and he snaps his jaw shut tightly.
The steel of his gaze follows Samuel as he enters, through the silence, all while working his jaw. And when the question is aired, truthfully, all Sunjata can do is speak the truth of what happened. They might have a chance of actually getting out of here if he does. “Because I went missing in the Drench and just came back?” He asks, quieter at first before he continues. “I was heading home after. I just knew Father wouldn’t let me off POINT again when I did and I just wanted to keep a promise I made last season to Cian about milkshakes.” His head tilts toward Cian, but his gaze remains on Samuel. It was a childish ambition, in the face of this, but it’s too late now.
“He has nothing to do with it, sir.” All in an attempt to not break promises, he’s managed to get them stuck in a horrible situation. Of course, he could handle it if it were just himself, but with Cian involved, he feels all the responsibility in the world, and it sours his stomach.
Sabotaged myself again, got a brain like a hurricane
So I ask myself, when will I learn?
No one knows what a mess I'm in
Cian starts shifting restlessly where he kneels on the floor; his knee pulsing in pain from the blow it took earlier and his shoulders are starting to complain about being pulled back slightly by his hands being cuffed behind his back. But he does not dare to sit any differently. Or move much more at all.
The distant clicking of the cane has him freeze, however. Stressed and all on edge, the sound of the door opening is enough to make him flinch as if it had physically smacked him across the face. Warily, he glances up through the hair hanging in front of his eyes and watches the man entering. Then back to the floor as said man makes his way up to the bars and introduces himself.
"I don't know... Sir." He mumbles quietly in reply to the question, not even sure if he manages to make his currently weak voice be heard properly. Then Sunjata starts explaining things and Cian glances sideways at the young Bratena without lifting his head from its hanging position. Trying to make out Sunjata's demeanor to judge just in how much trouble they are in and how bad it might become.
'He has nothing to do with it.' He has nothing to do with what? What?! What was going on here? Cian presses his jaws together and draws a quivering breath. Mind racing and not focusing. All he knows is that he has not done anything wrong, but is convinced they could probably come up with any reasons just to be able to punish him for something.
CIAN
My mind feels like an archenemy
(This post was last modified: 01-09-2023, 10:08 AM by Cian.)
The reader of this text has standing permission for responsible powerplay and to use physical/magical force against this character. Instant killing and permanently maiming not included.
Sam watched flatly as Sunjata spoke, the only movement a slight raise of an eyebrow as milkshakes were mentioned; it would be unclear if it were a gesture of surprise or disbelief. He had heard, through plenty of gossip (had to put stock in, but it could indicate a truth) that the Arbiter's son was a fool, too soft on the Drenchers and too eager to throw away his title. Maybe it was true.
"It seems unlikely that Mr..." Samuel turned to glance at one of the papers on the table. "...Ross has nothing to do with your excursion. After all, you finally gain freedom from the Drench - surely a terrible place to spend such a long time - and you immediately set off to fulfill a promise about...milkshakes?" Surely, Sunjata could see how it looked; he had already been under suspicion, but this pattern of movement had risen him up the chain of suspicion tenfold. Any enforcer, never mind the Arbiter's son, would have been expected to report as soon as possible.
"So, the question at hand is this: What did you two discuss over your drinks?" Once this question was asked he adopted a slightly more relaxed poise, leaning back against the table with both hands and crossing his legs, hoping that a conversational tone might loosen their lips. However, the sharpness of his eyes would immediately belay any idea of casual friendliness, something Samuel had never been good at.
This planet's overrun There's nothing left for you or for me
i'm going back to my roots another day, another door, another high, another low rock bottom, rock bottom, rock bottom
It quickly becomes so frustrating that Sunjata has to grind his teeth to keep from snapping at Samuel – as if he hadn’t been listening to the explanation Sunjata’s given. “Yes. Because I won’t be leaving POINT after I got back.” It’s not like his father was going to agree to letting him leave to meet some stranger, non-noble birth for a fucking milkshake.
But it’s pointless, he realizes, because they’re far more interested in what they talked about. Which was nothing, but there’s something about it that seems to suggest that Samuel won’t particularly care for that answer.
The Bratena youth takes a deep breath, rolls his shoulders back, and tries to sound less frustrated when he speaks next. “I apologized for it being so early, but that it was a pitstop on my way to POINT.” He offers, his tone quieter, less snappy, his steel gaze finding the sharpness within Sam’s (but it wasn’t as sharp as Shaju’s, which is the only reason he still looks). “I told him that I had gotten stuck in the Drench. And then the Enforcers showed up.” And that he wouldn’t be back for some time once he made it home again.
Sabotaged myself again, got a brain like a hurricane
So I ask myself, when will I learn?
No one knows what a mess I'm in
Hearing his name said like that sends a cold chill down his spine. Not that it was anything suspicious about his surname, but it is just something with how Cian's mind is interpreting Samuel's voice that makes him uneasy. The worry twisted his stomach even more and he swallowed a few times and took a slow breath.
It sounds so ridiculous in a way when being said out loud. Going for milkshakes sounds so innocent it turned suspicious. Because who really goes for a milkshake at sunrise under normal circumstances? Cian tangles his fingers up in each other where his hands are locked behind his back to keep them from fiddling nervously. The feeling of dread slowly weighing down on him. Something telling him things would not go well no matter what they respond.
He nods slowly to what Sunjata is saying. "It is as he says..." He starts in a hoarse voice, before pausing to run his tongue over his lips. Suddenly realising how dry his mouth is. "I had no idea Sunjata was trapped in the Drench. So when I suddenly got a message to meet him this early, I got concerned. He throws a sidelong glance towards Sunjata, then finally dares to lift his anxious gaze to Samuel. "He just told me what happened after the masquerade and that he would be stuck at POINT for some time." For once, he actually sticks to the true story.
CIAN
My mind feels like an archenemy
The reader of this text has standing permission for responsible powerplay and to use physical/magical force against this character. Instant killing and permanently maiming not included.
Oh, Samuel had understood what Sunjata said, but he thought it was inexusable. Whether or not he was intending to be able to return, to delay the Arbiter for a milkshake date was simply not done. That in of itself was a crime - perhaps not a legal one, but one for which he'd be doing toilet cleaning duty in the enforcer dorms for months to come.
He still suspected there was more to it.
He had been present at the Masquerade, but had gone home before the fighting had broken out, not accustomed to late nights. From what he'd heard from Captains and Nobles that had been present, the Drenchers had simply begun to get so rowdy it was destined to go that way, so they had intervened before it got any worse than it had to. That Sunjata had not stood by his Enforcer comrades but somehow become 'stuck' in the Drench was odd enough. "And...what did happen at the Masquerade? How is it you became 'trapped' in the Drench - and you did not?" Samuel asked, looking between the two.
This planet's overrun There's nothing left for you or for me
i'm going back to my roots another day, another door, another high, another low rock bottom, rock bottom, rock bottom
There’s a deep breath, at least as deep of one as he can manage given the current state of his healing wound on his stomach, where the roughness of the enforcers taking them into custody had impacted it. He listens to Cian’s response but his gaze remains on Samuel as if trying to detect the way the man might sway. Of course, he doesn’t get very far, the man’s face is masked well enough that he’s at a loss when the question of what occurred at the Masquerade is aired.
“The enforcers clashed with a group of Drenchers, then started pushing everyone into a crowd. I got on the outside and when I told them I was a Plater and needed out, I got hit with an enhanced baton, right above my right rib.” He pauses, wondering if anyone was even going to check. “I tried to tell them again and again but ended up in the trams and they locked it down. I didn’t have my ID with me, not thinking I’d need it. I needed help with the wound to not get infected so I found a clinic and had to wait to come back up.” He admits, pulling his gaze away from Samuel to instead find a speck at the floor he can glare at.
