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
As much as he would have his adoring fans believe he spent every minute of his day working for the cause and pissing off 'The Man', Adam spent quite a lot of time pissing about in the alleys and dark corners of the Drench, listening to random conversations, smoking and occasionally flirting. Sometimes it led to useful information, but more often than not it just passed on a few hours.
It was late afternoon, a few hours before the curfew the Plates had so kindly put down (he hadn't decided if he was going to follow it today yet), and he was sat at the edge of a street bar, the drink he'd ordered half empty and for the most part forgotten, Adam leaning to watch and listen to an argument on the other side of the street. Something about a stolen TV, an expensive object indeed down here in the Chokes; one man was almost turning red as he ranted and raved at the supposed thief.
Out of the corner of his eye, a uniform he was trained to notice all so well caught his attention. Turning from the fight, he watched the enforcer approach, noting the blue line - another Bratena house brat, or maybe the same one? If it were Sunjata, he doubted the Arbiter's son, from the confrontation they'd had earlier, had much experience in breaking up this kind of thing. Picking his drink back up, pretending to be interested in it's contents, he paid careful attention to what was about to happen.
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
It’s a different day, but the shit still seems the same. Only this time it’s long enough before the curfew that the patrols are simply watching, observing, interjecting whenever necessary, and that’s where Sunjata finds himself now. Heading toward someone who’s already angry (perfect), red faced and ready to fight (even better), with Sunjata who’s had the equivalent of about four hours of sleep.
It isn’t the same as when Adam had seen him before with the start of the lockdown. This is simpler, something he’s used to when it comes to the patrols they’re trained to do. So there’s no hesitation when the enforcer steps up, slipping in between the two as they continue their argument. “What happened?” He rumbles to the two of them, the modulation to his voice making it more commanding but still slightly accented, gaze drifting between the red faced man and the supposed thief, making a mental note of the two of them to write in the reports later.
And whether or not the information made sense to him or not would determine whether he has to get his hands dirty.
Perhaps the proximity to the bar had ought to have been a giveaway, but the two men were rather drunk. One took issue to an enforcer involving himself in their argument and one seemed to just mumble incoherently, both difficult to make sense of and mad without a sense of direction.
Adam watched on until he'd gotten to the bottom of his glass, trying to listen to the enforcer's voice to see if he recognised it - of course, it was difficult to tell with the damn creepy masks on, but when he paid attention, he thought he could hear the same lilt as Sunjata had had. With a smile, he hopped off the bar stool and headed over the street, hovering at the perimeter of the confrontation along with other onlookers.
The mumbling man began to try and head away, using Sunjata's arrival as a distraction, as the angry one raised his fist towards the enforcers masked head, shouting something about 'meddling in Choke's business'. Adam wasn't sure if he wanted to see Sunjata decked or not (on the one hand, enforcer, on the other, the kid was clearly in way over his head) but either way, he was gonna stick around to find out what happened.
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
The one that tries to slip away is gripped by a gloved hand to keep him from moving too far, while he takes into account the raised fist — slightly sluggishly given the inebriation, and Sunjata finds it easy to duck and let the man lose his balance just enough that he can step out from between them. “If you’re dead set on it being your business, then take it away from this alley.” He offers, shoving the supposed thief toward the alley before choosing to let them deal with it on their own.
He wasn’t going to get anywhere anyway.
And from there, he turns, stalking off to the edge of the alley, waiting to see what exactly they do (while also being mindful of any other Drenchers that might want to get involved with him). Keep defenses up, as he tells himself over and over again. A mantra that falters the second he spies a vaguely familiar tall as fuck drencher watching, the recognition in his face reflecting a moment before he turns away and continues to stalk down the path.
He was surprised to see Sunjata handle the situation quite so efficiently. A lot of green enforcers tended to get too involved, try to fix everything they could see, either with misguided attempts at empathy or the far more common taser to the chest. Adam raised his eyebrows as the two drunkards were pushed off into the alley, both of them stumbling away - a little amazed they didn't come back to have another go at that punch, but maybe they were smarter than they looked.
Perhaps he might have left Sunjata alone to his patrol, had the enforcer not caught his eye and visibly stiffened; Adam grinned, confirmation that this was the man he'd met before given, and sauntered ahead as if he were going to greet an old friend. Sure, this would draw a few curious eyes from the crowd nearby, but most who knew him knew he was always doing some weird shit for an edge.
"Hey, you came back!" Clapping his hands together, he stepped in front of Sunjata and tried to find where the eyes might be under the mask. "Want me to show you that night life, huh? Or just here to tuck us all in again?"
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
He really wants to be left alone, but the second the tall stranger whom he still hadn’t gotten the name of, steps in front of him and claps his hands together, Sunjata internally shrinks, a modulated “Saint’s sake,” leaving him as he heaves a sigh and straightens up to focus on Adam, arms folding across his chest.
“Wasn’t by choice.” He offers, as if it matters. It doesn’t, of course, but he feels a little better getting it off his chest. He shifts his weight and reaches up to pull the glasses off, away from the mask, to let his steel gaze scan over Adam — makes no use hiding himself entirely when he was already known (a fact his father can’t know about). “What do you want?” Comes the modulated voice, still hidden by the mask covering his nose and mouth.
Adam's grin only grew as he heard Sunjata's curse - he loved being a thorn in the side of the establishment, made him feel like he was making dear old dead dad proud.
"Course not. Nice boy like you wouldn't wanna come anywhere like this." He nodded, gesturing around to the crowds and storefronts, the homes here; to Adam it was everyday life, but he was sure to one raised in the Plates it looked like the height of depravity. The few times he had been up to the Plates, he'd always been taken aback by how empty and minimal it all felt, how cold and neat.
Sunjata asked what he wanted and Adam had to pause, hand on his hip as he considered what he wanted. Mostly just to fuck around with an enforcer (and not just any enforcer, the Arbiter's son, the creme de la creme of fuckable with enforcers), but he had to come up with something better than that. "Show you what life is actually like down here. I mean, what, you come down once every couple days to walk around the main streets for a few hours? You don't know the people. You don't get it. Wouldn't you like to see what its actually like underneath your fancy house?"
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
That’s where he’s wrong, first of all. Sunjata often dreamt about living on the other side, living away from where he did (Plates or Drench, it didn’t matter too much so long as it wasn’t his home.) But he can’t openly admit such a thing while he wears the uniform he does, not with the association of who his father was.
And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t benefit at all from his father’s money.
But still. He peers up at Adam as the show is made, glancing around the surrounding alley for other eyes on them and wishing he could disappear into being absolutely nobody. “I dunno if your friends would like that.” His chin points toward the surrounding public, before his gaze lands back on Adam and he takes a few steps closer. “But between you and me I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” And if Adam ever let that slip to anyone that directly affected himself, Sunjata would find him and make sure it never happened again.
"My friends can go suck a dick then, but actually-" Adam made some obscene hand gesture out into the street to anyone who was looking then tried to pull Sunjata into a darker corner, further from view. "You're far from the first enforcer whos had a taste of life down here. You think everyone in your platoon or whatever is a good guy who never visited a Drench club?"
Hearing that Sunjata wouldn't be opposed to whatever he had in mind made him smirk, Adam developing a plan in his mind for all kinds of ridiculous hijinks he could get the Arbiter's son into. "Okay. First things first, we have to get you out of the uniform. I know somewhere you can dip into to change clothes - you in?" This was the point of no return. "You'll get 'em back before you go off back to daddy, don't worry."
Just because I made poetry a mission
You might as well punish a kid for coloring outside the lines
The gesture distracts him more than it should, internally cursing himself at the fact that he let it happen, but cursing more when he’s dragged into a more hidden alcove. His hackles are immediately raised and he’s tense and rooted to the spot, staring at Adam in slight surprise of the audacity he had to just grab him, but manages to grit out “I’m sure they’re not, but they’re also not me. I’m held to a higher standard than they are.” He hisses out, brows pinching as he realizes Adam’s seriousness, confusion flaring even more.
“What? I have check-ins to do and lockdown starts in a couple of hours. I don’t know how you intend to get around that.” He grumbles, reaching up to remove the mask to better speak to Adam quietly. “I can’t just shed this skin and turn into someone else.” The accent is back, far less intense sounding and more boyish, accented akin to the Arbiter’s own choice of inflection.
