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
When Samuel had been an Enforcer, or even before that when he had lived and grown up in the Drench, it had been familiar; the choking fumes and tight streets had simply been life, a part of the world. Now that he barely left an office in P02, it seemed almost unbearable when he did have to make the trip down here. How anyone remained was beyond him - it had been obvious from a young age he was destined to rise above the filth here.
However, he had reason to make the trip down today. He wore casual clothing and a hood that obscured most of his face; of course, the gait of his lopsided walk gave him away, but there was little he could do about it - the guards who noticed him would not dare to challenge him anyway.
The leg was why he had come. Plates physicians were good, but they had a tendancy to try and play by rules, monitor scientific discovery and change their treatments based on what was deemed dangerous. That had been fine until the only drug that numbed the pain in his muscles had become unavailable, the only substitute a shrug and a suggestion to 'think more positively'. He'd had to go to the Drench.
There was plenty of whispering about the clinic in the Chokes that would get one anything they needed. Too integral to the local area to invade, not worth the upheaval, it and it's doctor had remained relatively untouched. Sam approached the door, drawing his jacket closer around himself and shifting his weight as he went to knock on the door, sighing as his knuckles made contact.
my head feels too loud sometimes like a monsoon in the summertime
Time is strange in the Drench sometimes. The deeper you go, the less it seems to matter, the more things are simply open when they’re open and closed when they aren’t. Sometimes it’s a hassle, but sometimes - times when the temperature has kept him from getting a good night of sleep, when he’s been living in his head more than in his body - sometimes it suits Nate beautifully.
He’s been sitting at his desk for Saints only know how long, filling out paperwork that is technically weeks overdue, but he’s his own boss and it’s not like he can’t sweet talk anyone who’d come asking about it. The bones are all done, after all. Even this is starting to wear on him though, his focus lapsing and distraction growing, and just when he thinks he might step out into the alleys for a break there’s a knock at the door.
He must have the closed sign up, why else wouldn’t it have just opened?
Bars inside the glass sit between the pane Sam’s knuckles ring against and the blind inside, the single blank sheet fluttering slightly in what has to be the faint gasp of some desk fan. There’s no sound for a moment, the office holding its breath, and then gasping out again as dull footfalls coke towards the door. The blind is hooked back by a single finger, offering a quick flash of dark hair and sunburnt skin, and then the door opens.
The doctor leans in the space opened up, his head cocking and brows furrowing as he looks the stranger up and down. “We are uh, not open yet, but…” Nate sucks his teeth, then opens the door fully and steps aside so Sam can enter. “You’re the type to get an exception, right?” A single huff of laughter follows the words, Nate immediately pointing out a faded white door and keeping his body between whoever this man is and his reception area.
you can’t drag me down like a beast underwater with no soul
The flash of eyes and dark hair were almost enough to send Sam running away, having to actually meet gazes with someone sending his shame into overdrive. He steeled himself though, only nodding along to what Nate had to say when he opened the door - he didn't understand what the Doctor meant, but as long as he could get what he needed here, he didn't care. Nate could think of him whatever he liked.
Just so long as he didn't spread it around.
Cold eyes examined the space he'd entered, Sam only going to pull back his hood when he was sure there was no one else there. He expected a gasp of recognition, maybe a snide comment; even if Nate didn't remember him from his Drench days, he'd made quite the reputation for himself as an Enforcer over the years. Whatever came, he would try to take it with a flat face and as little reaction as possible.
"I need you to supply me with a certain medicine." Pulling a note from his pocket where he had written the name, meticulously remembered and copied down from the last bottle he'd gotten in the Plates, he gave the paper to Nate. "I will pay the price you ask."
my head feels too loud sometimes like a monsoon in the summertime
Whatever Samuel had been expecting he doesn’t get. There’s recognition in Nate’s eyes for sure, but nothing he allows to float over his face. It’s been some time since he’d last seen the officer before him, knows him for the way he had proven an age old rumour true within his first week on the job. Boots on Drenchers kick twice as hard.
The paper is taken slowly, with a kind of bear silent grace, and flicked open, Nate glancing at the medication name before he sucks his teeth. “This isn’t an easy ask you know. There’s been breakups in my supply lines, and a bunch of,” blue eyes drag up and down Samuel, “patients requesting the same.”
Truth be told Nate isn’t even lying. Plenty of enforcers are making the same request. He’s just not entertaining it in most of those cases. “Not only that, but this is a controlled medication now. I could get in trouble for distributing it. You want me to break the law for you?”
you can’t drag me down like a beast underwater with no soul
The lack of a reaction from Nate was surprising; it threw Sam off guard. He had been so ready for it, the oft-heard criticisms that came from his birth-fellows. The silence that came instead was somehow worse, Nate's unreadable eyes digging deeper than any words could. Uncomfortable, he ran a finger up and down the top of his cane, an unusual show of nerves for the Officer.
"I'm aware, but I've heard you are good at sourcing rare things." He almost flinched at the word patients, knowing that it was said to mean 'addicts' - which, he was absolutely sure, he was not. Not the same as those pathetic creatures on the Neon Alley that begged for the Lasti, one more hit, scratching themselves and staring with bloodshot eyes. No, he needed the medication for good reasons, real reasons. If he could not get it, he would simply remain strong of spirit, as he always had.
Samuel was aware of course that there were Enforcers who took these pills too; had seen them scattered in locker rooms and training areas and chosen not to say anything. Had at the most taken a few for 'confiscation' and left it alone.
As for 'breaking the law'...he sighed inwardly, let his eyes drift over the cabinets and cupboards in the room, where he was certain several substances he could find issue with sat. Even if they didn't, he knew it was a minimal effort to find an issue with what was there (other Enforcers might have placed a bottle within, but he was at least above that). "I can't imagine you're actually concerned with that. I know what comes in and out of this clinic; I will pay more than your average customer for your discretion and...risk."
my head feels too loud sometimes like a monsoon in the summertime
The word he’d actually meant had been Platers, people with the means to slip below for whatever illicit whim crossed their minds, but they had a similar sort of image in mind at least. “You’ve heard correctly, ossifer.” Nate sighs, shaking his head and licking his lips, all well practiced and faux sympathetic. “I can find most things, if my motivation is right.” So far though, he wasn’t feeling particularly generous, and Samuel only dug that hole deeper for himself, sharp eyes locking on his potential patient.
“What comes out of this clinic is good medicine.” Nate growls, his cool facade breaking for a moment so he can snarl, immediate rage twisting his features. He bites it back with a hiss, eyes snapping up towards the ceiling so he can suck in a breath and focus back on Samuel, every feature stiffer now. “I see no reason to take patients who don’t respect what it is I do here.” Words drop out of him more quickly now, a hand gesturing towards the door. “If you can’t abide by that, I’m sure there are other places to get your fix.” They both know there aren’t, at least not in the form that Samuel would be caught dead seeking out. A sainted Drencher, dropping back down to rub elbows with junkies in the slums? A scandal to be sure.
Taking another breath, Nate straightens his shirt and aims a grin across at Samuel again. “So, are you willing to work with me, or am I going to be escorting you out?”
you can’t drag me down like a beast underwater with no soul
Sam had prepared for aggression before he'd arrived, but Nates calm demeanour up until this point had made him lower his guard, just a little - he met Nate's eyes, but the slight surprise would be clear in the flinch of his face. As far as he was concerned he hadn't said anything out of turn; it wasn't like Nate had a squeaky clean reputation and they both knew that.
However, Nate was the man with the ability to get what he needed, so he swallowed his objections.
"I will work with you." He could have said more, about how if Nate wanted any more respect he ought to run a more respectable establishment...but he held back. "I made as much clear when I came in. Name a price."
my head feels too loud sometimes like a monsoon in the summertime
There is something a little addicting about being able to make an enforcer flinch, even one who clearly wasn’t on a beat. Unlike most of his other habits though, this one is dangerous, and the moment Nate feels himself enjoying the feeling he pulls back, closing that door within himself and sucking in a deep breath.
A price.
Considering for a long moment, too long to have produced anything fair, Nate grins slowly, his shoulders rolling back. “I want less enforcers patrolling around here. It makes people nervous, and that makes for bad medicine.” He knows it’s not exactly the price the other man would be expecting, but it’s more useful than any lasti Samuel could offer him. A real and tangible good.
It’s clear as well that he doesn’t expect the other man to take this well, a faintly amused gaze piercing into the other and waiting for the response.
you can’t drag me down like a beast underwater with no soul
It had, somehow, not occurred to Sam that Nate might want compensation beyond Lasti. He was not in the practice of making deals with Drenchers, especially not those already known to Enforcers as trouble makers, but this had already gone on too long. Every minute he spent here was another minute he could have been caught in and Sam felt Nate was getting bolder - if he said no to this, the demand might be more next time.
"Fine." He said with a tired annoyance. "I cannot guarantee no Enforcer presence. But I can lessen the patrols you'll see in this district." It would be suspicious to move all units out of the area, but Sam knew how to push the routes up a street or two, write a report on why it was for the best that wouldn't raise any questions. The thought of doing so made him feel sick, but the idea of no more medicine made him sicker. "Are we done?"
my head feels too loud sometimes like a monsoon in the summertime
Nate rubs his mouth, hiding the surprised slant of his lips but not the way his brows rise just slightly. There's usually more to the game than this, a back and forth, which means either this little pit traitor doesn't know how to play - a thought so foolish Nate doesn't even entertain it for longer than an inhale - or he's desperate. Which... fuck, there goes thoughts of blackmail through deprivation.
"Yeah." He rumbles slowly, rolling his shoulders back and jutting a hand out to shake. "Yeah, we got a deal. I'll have a stash once a month for you, yeah?" The ease with which Nate shifts into business is uncanny, if he hadn't been oozing threat just earlier in the conversation, it would be difficult to believe that part of him was really real.
you can’t drag me down like a beast underwater with no soul
