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
don't know what you're thinking of do i chip away or keep defenses up?
He’s back here surprisingly soon, all things considered. Though the punishment had been severe enough to make him stiff, to keep him off duty for approximately two days, before his father decided to shove him back into the Drench completely on Patrol. He’s even made sure he had a partner to make sure he doesn’t squirrel himself away this time. (Though it isn’t like he had much of a choice the last time it happened.)
And it’s taken all of his ability to convince the other man to stop by the clinic, eventually falling for the following up on a lead paired with an its fine itll be quick I promise, while his partner sits outside the doors of the clinic looking for all the world as menacingly as possible, scouting out all the exits to make sure Sunjata doesn’t make some grand escape.
Which he won’t, but that’s beside the point. When a regular run of the mill enforcer gets a personal instruction from the Arbiter to do something? Saints, they’re devoted to it.
He slips into the clinic, slipping the door shut as the bell announces his arrival, mask and body armor all in place, and his boots announce his arrival as he steps in, searching for Nate. He’s slower and not as agile as he was when they’d had their adventure, but the mask and uniform help conceal it a small amount.
don't make a sound, if it gets too loud will you hear me come around?
Nate is with a patient when the bells rings, the doctor excusing himself to poke his head out the door of his exam room and go stiff. It’s with a practised motion that he steps out completely and closes the door behind him, hands folding in front of him as he stands between the enforcer and the door.
There is just enough of a dip in his shoulders to come across as unthreatening, compliant, the smile on his face carefully blank and charming, but ready to drop in an instant. The mask holds in place right up until blue eyes flick up to find now familiar steel, a deep sigh heaving out of Nate as his shoulders drop, just a little bit.
The next place his eyes flick is towards the shadow outside the door, right lines furrowing between dark brows. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Nate rumbles, charming enough, despite the way he has to force his eyes back on Sunjata.
Unlike most of the people who walk through his door, there is no common language he shares with Sunjata, no way to ask after his state without something obvious. It’s a weight that wears on Nate’s expression, drags it down.
don't know what you're thinking of do i chip away or keep defenses up?
He swallows the second Nate makes an appearance, trying to straighten up. But he doesn’t get too far, a fraction of an inch or so, given that he’s still too sore and in too much pain to fully straighten up to his full height (though it isn’t like he’d reach Nate’s full height). Instead, he waits for the pleasantries, the way Nate blocks the door—
And is that the slight breath of relief to realize it’s him?
He supposes that’s good enough. “Just following up on business.” He casts a glance around to ensure they’re alone, his partner still outside blocking the door, unable to hear what goes on inside, the waiting area empty save for a plant or two.
Stiffly, he takes a step toward Nate, loosening himself up enough to make it to the desk that separates them, leaning against it as he reaches for the clinking lasti in his pocket, setting it on the metal desk. “For the ride.”
don't make a sound, if it gets too loud will you hear me come around?
“Still no drugs here, ossifer.” Nate keeps his voice low, the little pricks of amusement carefully muted under the steadiness of his expression. Seems like the last thing either of them needs is the other guy finding a reason to come inside.
As the enforcer comes closer, so too does Nate, drifting forward until his hips bump agaisnt his desk, a sturdy bit of common sense to keep them separate and grounded. “You don’t need to do that.” He mutters, poking gently at the lasti, wincing at every too loud clink that comes as he arranges them neatly. “I mean, you got the door, and…” Blue eyes focus on Sunjata again, looking him up and down.
Fingers tap on the desk, a quick, dull beat. “If you… want to make a donation though, I have a box, I’d just need uh… signature, if that’s okay?”
don't know what you're thinking of do i chip away or keep defenses up?
“Sure,” he pauses, the modulation of the mask thicker and devoid of his accent when he speaks through it. “But I want to.” And he has the means to. A bit of lasti for him was nothing in comparison to how Nate had used some of his last to get the tram ticket back up. So here he is, paying it back.
But it’s clear that Nate doesn’t particularly want it in the way Sunjata expects, and the mention of a donation with a signature has him raising a brow underneath the helmet he’s forced to wear. “Does it have to be a real signature?” He asks, partially teasing, partially serious. He doesn’t know if having his name linked to a clinic in the Drench would be yet another punishable offense.
And part of him wonders whether or not Nate would even care, would let it slide.
don't make a sound, if it gets too loud will you hear me come around?
It’s clear the modulation grates on part of Nate, his head twitching back and forth every time Sunjata speaks, his eyes slipping off the other man to dance around the room, focusing on the door, the mess of papers on his desk.
Nate fiddles in a drawer, pulling out a blank pad and a small lockbox, testing the pen before he slides everything across to the other man. On the pad in dark ink are the words you okay?, at odds with the almost bored expression on Nate’s face. “Can’t say I care how you sign it, it’s not like anyone’s checking it.”
don't know what you're thinking of do i chip away or keep defenses up?
The blank pad of paper brought out and the lockbox has him moving the lasti in order to place it in the container, when the words written on the blank pad distract him, give him pause as he picks up the pen to answer the question. “Sounds good.” He responds, almost bored in a way or perhaps that’s the modulation.
In pain and stuck in POINT unless on duty. Comes the first answer, the pen hovering as he pauses. I’m ok. It’s been looked at. by Plate doctors that gave him things to wear, but shied away from Shaju at the mention of any kind of rest. So here he is, under the body armor he’s got braces that push the fabric up a bit, but is relatively unnoticeable unless you’re looking for it.
don't make a sound, if it gets too loud will you hear me come around?
Keen eyes read the words as they’re written, brute pinching with the effort of doing it upside down. They shift quickly though, returning to Sunjata to look him over more carefully, a tight upset bullying out the other emotions on Nate’s face.
“Thank you.” The tone is more clipped than Nate would usually offer, distracted as he turns and fumbles in a high cabinet for a moment. “We’re kept in business by your generous donations.”
Focusing back on Sunjata, Nate sets two small, white pills on the desk between them, then tugs the lockbox back towards him, hiding it away in the desk once again. “Im glad I could help out your investigation.”
don't know what you're thinking of do i chip away or keep defenses up?
The clipped tone immediately has his gaze rising to Nate’s face, watching to see if he can read through the warring emotions on the other man’s face. And as he turns away and retrieves something from a cupboard, moving to set it on the table. His gaze lifts to Nate from the small pills, working his jaw despite it being hidden.
“Can it be traced?” He asks, voice low enough that the modulation doesn’t project it, but he does reach forward to grab them, the pills disappearing in his hand swiftly, not making any sign that he’s grabbed them while his gaze rises to look at Nate with a raised brow.
don't make a sound, if it gets too loud will you hear me come around?
“Theres no drugs here, sir.” The sound of a smile lifts up the last word, even if Nate’s expression doesn’t actually shift all that much. “Just painkillers. Same as what you should be getting now, or close enough.” The words are a low buzz, the doctors lips barely moving as he shares the information.
Nate works his jaw, looking the other man up and down one more time before he finally cracks, and sighs. “I’m… sorry. About getting you in trouble. It did seem like a uh, a better…” His hand moves, trying to fill in the space where his words fail. “Guess I don’t know shit though, eh?”
