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
He doesn't really want to go back up to the Plates, but he can feel himself really needing a break from the dark, drenched... Drench. Eventually, the need for a break had won and now he finds himself back up top. He had feared it would come with a heap of anxious paranoia, but is surprised to feel none of it as he makes his way from the tram stop and down along a random street. His mind had lately switched into some unusual "whatever"-mode that he finds quite comforting. Taking one day at the time, more or less stopped being worried about when he could get back home. As if his mind had finally managed to figure out that the lockdown would not end sooner just because he was running in an anxious circle about it. Sure, life still isn't easy for him, but he is actually managing alright for once.
What bothers him the most currently are the itchy rashes across his body. While they had grown in size since they first appeared on his hands, they have at least not turned into wounds like those he had seen on some people. All he can do is hope things won't take a turn for the worse again, in any way.
He has picked a rather decent day to get out from under the cover of the Plates. While the sky is covered in dark clouds and there's a chilly wind blowing through the streets, there is no heavy rain. A few scattered drops here and there, but he doesn't mind. Perhaps he can stay up top until the sky decides to turn on the waterfall again.
A group of benches out in the middle of a smalls square surrounded by various shops and carts with street food becomes his target. No one else is currently using them, so he unceremoniously drops himself down onto his back on one of the benches, one foot planted on the seat and the other one still on the ground. Looking up at the dark clouds and letting the small rain drops land on his face, he realises he had no idea how much he had missed the sky. Yes, he had been out in the areas outside the shaded parts of the Drench a few times during last season, but has been in the dark since the first rain started.
Being out in the open like this again feels better than he remembers and he has to keep himself from smiling to not just look too weird where he lies.
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.
Patrolling the Plates was a much easier job than then Drench routes - here the majority of problems boiled down to people with too much ego snipping at each other, with the occasional real problem. In the Plates, people respected Enforcers; it was easy to walk down the street without being spat upon or yelled at. The same could not be said of the Drench.
Sam didn't patrol at all any more, not after his illness, but he did sometimes take walks along patrol routes to observe what the Enforcers on duty were doing. It had been a while since he had inspected the Plates patrols, since they were so calm; he was pleased to see the Enforcers still taking their duty seriously and progressing along the route as planned.
Knowing there were benches in the square coming up, he pivoted there - his cane helped some with walking, but there was still a dull ache in his leg that grew in intensity the more steps he took. Originally, as he came into the area, Sam was just going to take the nearest bench, but then he noticed Cian sat a little further away.
He hadn't seen the man since the unfortunate incident with Sunjata. That had been a professional failure, as he was sure there had been more going on...perhaps he had a chance to try again here, through another method. After a moment's pause, he began to head to the same bench as Cian. Once he reached it, he spoke while stood: "Mr. Ross. Have you been doing well since your...interview?"
Tick-tocking away in my brain
(This post was last modified: 05-19-2023, 09:32 PM by Samuel.)
The more minutes passing by, the more Cian relaxes. Nothing is happening. Everything is safe and fine. No one knows him, no one cares. He can happily be a complete stranger and just enjoy his day. To just let go of that paranoia and anxiety that all too easily latched onto him.
He is far into his own mind by the time Samuel reaches the square. Lost in some odd mental silence he doesn't experience often and he is just there, watching the dark shades of the clouds swirl in the sky above and being completely unaware of the sound of the cane and the approaching man.
"Mr. Ross..."
No on here knows his surname. No one here calls him that. The only person that had recently called him that was...
Cian wakes up from his daydreaming as if zapped and quickly sits up, almost throwing himself off the bench but just manages to remain seated. He looks up at Sam with wide, wary eyes for a few seconds, then his gaze flickers this and that way as if he is looking for any signs of Enforcers approaching. When nothing else is happening, he looks back at Sam. On edge. Doing his very best to keep himself collected.
"I have... Been doing just fine." He replies with caution in his voice and works his jaws slightly to keep the tension from building up too much. "Not illegal to be on the benches now, is it?" He tries to keep out any bitterness from the tone and remain calm.
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.
There may, perhaps, have been a short exhale of air from Sam's nose that could be seen as a laugh when Cian jumped. Sometimes, it was nice to have that effect on people - to know even with the limp and cane, he could command authority great enough to become fear. He followed the glances to the side with his own eyes, wondering what it was Cian thought he could see. There was no one else in the square.
"No, it isn't." As if to illustrate this point, Sam sat down next to Cian, neatly leaning his cane against the armrest of the bench and maintaining a soldier's perfect posture.
While he did enjoy the look in Cian's eyes, this conversation would not work if the other man were scared stiff the whole time; Sam took a breath and softened himself, sitting back a little and looking up at the sky, the ornate crenelations on the buildings beneath and the trees below that. "I'm not here to arrest you, nor anything of the sort. I was just passing by - I was wondering if, since your last...incident with Mr. Bratena, you had seen him since."
He continues to regard Sam warily, even leaning away ever so slightly as the other man sits down next to him on the bench. The urge to get up and run walk away flares up in him. He could easily get away quickly, but the memory of what happened last time he tried to get up and leave keeps him seated.
His eyes continue to dart around on their surroundings, only focusing back on Sam when he speaks again. Cian doesn't fully want to trust that there is no arrest going to happen, and at the same time he tries to tell himself that his worry is unreasonable. However, he is a bit too on edge still to accept that Sam of all people just happened to pass by, especially when Sunjata is brought up immediately.
"Have not seen nor heard anything from him since last." He responds as calmly as he can, hoping his words will be believed. It is no lie. He has no idea where Sunjata might be (still completely oblivious to the fact that they were at the same place in the Dust Fields). "He told me he would be unable to be in touch and most likely stuck at POINT. Why? You lost him again?"
The thought of Sunjata being lost in the Drench, coming back and being arrested only to instantly slip away yet again is almost amusing, but Cian manages to keep his face free of that amusement. Really, he is still too tensed to look anything but wary and anxious.
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.
If it were any other day Sam would have likely bristed against the sarcastic question, but he just sighed with a slight smile. "Actually, yes. I'm surprised you haven't heard. The Plates has been rife with gossip, as it so often is." He didn't make an attempt to hide the disdain in his tone when talking about the chatty Nobles that made up so much of the social core up there. Sunjata's disappearance may have once been a well-kept secret, for about an hour, but the truth had begun to spill out through cracks within the day and now everyone was vying for a cup of 'what happened to the Arbiter's son'.
He leaned back, crossed his legs and put his hands on the top knee, a posture that would surprise many of those who knew him through military service. "We're concerned about him. He never took well to the training - was always too soft. If he has gone to the Drench for this long, the worry is that he may have been caught up in some bad business and...disposed of." Sam tried to keep his words as casual as possible, though they were carefully picked; he glanced over to see if Cian reacted.
Sam's smile isn't trusted, but still the calmness of the situation gives Cian some courage to keep the attitude. At least a little bit. He is usually quick to back off with his head down, but perhaps his stay in the city has changed some of that. Though if it turns out to be bravery or stupidity is yet to be seen.
"Sorry, but the gossip seems to have gone right over my head. Literally. Not been up here since our last chat." He's still not sure if his impulse decision to move down into the Drench had been the right one to do. Not that it would have mattered much, since he had been close to not be able to afford staying on the Plates around that time anyway. And after struggling through the first several days in the Drench, things had not been too bad. Not easy, but not too bad.
Slowly, he leans back against the bench and some of the tensions seems to finally slip away. His shoulders falling a bit and he exhales a long, quiet sigh. His gaze continues to flicker to their surroundings every now and then, however, but he is mostly keeping them focused on Sam and listens to the talk about Sunjata with a bit of a concerned frown. "Not sure what you want me to say. You probably know him better than I do and what his chances are. Maybe he is even somewhere on the Plates and all of you just assume he has gone back down."
He feels rather glad over not being very helpful at the moment. That he actually knows nothing of the situation, even if it still would be nice to know how Sunjata is actually faring since they last saw each other.
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, you haven't? If you can afford to be up here I don't see why you'd spend your time in the Drench." Sam asked, trying to get a conversation going but also genuinely curious as to why Cian would choose to remain below the Plates when he could be in the fresh air. It was clear in his tone that he thought the Drench to be a miserable place to stay - one would never guess he'd come from there himself.
He was pleased to see Cian relax; he'd really been trying to work on talking to people lately, after spending so long learning to fight them. Hopefully, if the man was a bit more at ease, he'd give more away.
Because of course, Sam didn't believe he knew nothing of Sunjata.
"I see. I got the impression from our earlier conversation that you two were friends." He left his comment there, waiting to see if Cian would elaborate from it.
He lets out a soft huff and shakes his head. "Well, that's the thing. I couldn't afford it anymore and I probably can't now either. Not like prices have gone down in the last season." He keeps from mentioning that a big reason for moving down had been that he simply did not feel safe staying on the Plates, or that it really had been a very sudden decision. However, it was still part of the truth that he could not afford it.
If he was to be honest, living on the Plates up until then had been preferable in comparison to his experience in the Drench, even if the comparison is probably more unfair than usual. Spending Tanul on the Plates and Drenak in the Drench could not be more different from one another.
Sam keeps prodding about Sunjata and Cian shakes his head again. "Sure, you could call it friends. Not close, but we have talked some. Still does not make me know where he is right now. Since last time he contacted me, you people found out where he was and all that. Can't see why he would do the same again and have everything repeat."
He would have liked to know where Sunjata is and how he is doing, but at the same time, he also really does not want to be dragged into anything again. Even if it had not been Sunjata's intentions, and Cian really does not blame him for what happened, it is still a way bigger mess than what he is prepared to get himself into even more.
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.
"Hm." Sam hummed in mild agreement - nowadays, with his military paycheck and his sparse way of living, money hadn't been an issue in a long time, but when he had first come to the Plates he had been shocked at how much Lasti exchanged hands on a normal day. "You know, if you are looking for work, there are always positions in the Enforcer divisions to be filled."
He wasn't joking - young fit men like Cian were always wanted. While it seemed unlikely he'd sign up, given he'd already thrown his hat in with Sunjata and his...anti-social leanings, it was always worth a shot.
Avoiding expressing his initial bristle to the phrase 'you people', Sam nodded along. He still suspected Cian knew more than he was letting on about Sunjata, but it was clear doggedly insisting wasn't going to get him anywhere. "The young heir has a tendency to do the illogical. His father is worried sick."
Sam didn't really have access to the Arbiter's inner feelings, but there was no reason for Cian to know that; besides, it was an open secret that Shaju wasted at least some of his limited time on cursing Sunjata - not quite the concern of a worried father, but close enough.
