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
the underdogs ate shit and grew into the wolves you threw them to
“You don’t like either of those.” Nate points out, his third step back the enforcer into the little bit of counter space holding the long forgotten binder. “You could give me a hint you know. Make it our secret.” At this point Nate isn’t actually sure what it is he’s looking for, what weak spots there are, but he knows there’s something soft he can dig his fingers into.
A low chuckle sounds in his throat. “I’m sure I could think of one or two you’ve heard before, if you don’t give me anything to work with.” It’s almost a threat, wrapped up in enough teasing for it to land as a joke.
“Sunshine’s quite close, on the contrary.” He rumbles, even as Nate steps him back enough that it boxes him in, his hips bumping against the exam table at his back, the binder moving just enough to clatter to the ground — something which doesn’t phase Sunjata in the slightest, not when Nate says it could be their secret. It could be, or it could ruin everything.
But, Spider already knew who he was, so he works his jaw and lets Nate tease and taunt him, muscles feathering in his jaw as he thinks. “Fine.” He rumbles, steel gaze hardening as he meets the vibrant blues of Nate’s. “Sunjata Bratena.” He lets the ball drop, studying Nate’s face with as much intent as he can as if he might lose the reaction if he so much as blinks.
the underdogs ate shit and grew into the wolves you threw them to
That lone hip pops out again, the doctor just barely pressing against the enforcer, pinning him between the counter and his body.
The grin doesn’t slip, but Nate’s eyes widen, his fingers finally making contact with Sunjata’s chest. “You are the Puppy. The lil Brat Puppy.” A laugh leaves him, hand curling into the body armour and holding Nate up while he throws his head back and laughs.
The sound bounces around the room for longer than it should, Nate seemingly unable to take control of himself again. “You’re not jerking me around?” He asks, tears lingering in the corners of his eyes when they focus back on steel.
Nate’s approach even further into his space has him fully cornered, the warmth from the Drencher enough to leak into the body armor, enough to spark a small flush along his collar, thankfully mostly hidden by the protective armor he wears. It still doesn’t stop him from stilling completely when Nate’s hand meets his chest, hooks in, and hangs on. “Are you done?” He asks, the amusement fading in favor for not wanting to be the butt of a joke anymore.
That, and he’s not sure what the feeling is that happens to him with that particular set of nicknames and he’s unsure it’s wise for him to delve into them. “Wish I was.” He mutters before trying to shake out of the grip Nate has him in, the movement fully revealing the blue stripes along his uniform in deep Bratena blue.
the underdogs ate shit and grew into the wolves you threw them to
“Should I be?” Nate retorts, whip crack fast. Still, he does pull a tighter hold on himself, laughter fading to a quiet rumble in his throat before he swallows it. “You’re not having fun anymore? Not feeling like a good boy?” While he teases Nate’s head tips back and forth, curls bouncing and very nearly hitting Sunjata every time.
It’s hard to tell if it’s instinct or something else, but Nate’s fingers stay firmly curled in the other man’s front, eyes finding the blue stripes. That finally breaks his grasp, though only so he can tug at the edge of one of those stripes. “Looks like you got somethin’ in common with the rest of us, eh?”
He hopes Nate’s done but it seems quite unlikely that’s the case, especially when the barbs grow sharper, the muscles working in his jaw far sharper than he intends. He wants to tell Nate that it was easier when he wasn’t backed into a corner but something about admitting it seems like it’s a bad idea.
Like it might backfire. So instead, he pulls back slightly, bending against the exam table to keep the curls from reaching him, trying to pull back and away from the grip Nate has only to fail at that, too, and grits his teeth. “More than you’d think, Wren.” He rumbles, a hint of annoyance in his tone.
the underdogs ate shit and grew into the wolves you threw them to
“Oh yeah?” Nate rumbles lowly, leaning down to get into Sunjata’s face. “You think you have anything in common with any one of us?” A flicker rushes across his face, not quite a blink, not quite a twitch, before his features twist, anger pinching his brows and nose.
They turn suddenly, swapping places as Nate shoves the enforcer towards the door, ripping off a section of the blue stripe and pocketing it easily. Without an ounce of apparent effort, he’s leaning back against the examination table, hands pushing his hair back and out of his face while a practiced finger twists an elastic around it. “I think your friends are waiting for you.”
Yes, yes he thinks he does. Of course, he can’t relate in the usual ways — but something about being stuck under the boot of someone more powerful? Kept down again and again because you ‘ruin things?’ Yes, he relates. But he doesn’t get a chance to say much, a little grunt of a sound managing to leave him instead as he stumbles backward and hears his uniform rip, exposing the plate beneath the blue stripe.
That frown shifts to something sharper, Sunjata taking a step toward Nate. “I think I do, but I wouldn’t expect you to understand it.” He pauses, stilling before he can continue to run his mouth down a path he can’t come back from. “They’re not my friends.”
the underdogs ate shit and grew into the wolves you threw them to
Blue eyes peer up at Sunjata from beneath dark brows, appraising whatever it is that sits there. That scrap of matching fabric dances between quick fingers as Nate’s hand drops in front of him. He doesn’t move an inch as the distance between them closes again, even the sullen expression on his face not slipping.
“See? You’re just like them.” The scrap of Sunjata’s uniform vanishes again, fingers waving towards the door. “You think like them, you dress like them. No matter how you try to cut it puppy, you aren’t what you think.”
It cuts through him, a grimace showing on his face as Nate shoves those barbs deeper and deeper. “No, I’m not.” He repeats, as if saying the words over and over again would change anything. It doesn’t, of course. He’s still forced to be down here, forced to deal with these leads and talk to those who want nothing more than for him to leave.
Which is fine, but if he wasn’t dressed up the way he was, he thinks things would be different. That he might be able to enjoy parts of the Drench, specifically the easy going parts he’d seen with Spider. But he doesn’t get a chance to find out and instead steps closer to the taller man, reaching to his side to grab his mask, before stepping back to tug it into place. “I am only down here because they want to teach me a lesson, because I don’t think like them.” The modulation takes away his accent when the mask slips into place and he stares at Nate, awaiting what smart comment comes next.
