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 festival might offer too many options to go through in one day. Cian had some difficulties figuring out what games to try, what food to sample and which souvenirs stalls to browse first. Eventually, he had settled for a bag of warm crunchy snacks and stopped by a stand selling all kinds of crystals. Large as your fist, small as your finger nail. Different shapes and colours. Some even had a faint glow to them if you cup your hands around them and the stall owner claimed they were magical.
Cian stands by the stall, holding a small green crystal up between his thumb and index finger and is eying it closely. Every now and then, he sticks his other hand into a pocket of his purple long coat to fish out a snack from the paper bag he has stuffed in there. "Magical, you say?" He glances at the owner and raises an eyebrow. The stall owner smiles brightly and nods rapidly. Cian looks mildly unimpressed and looks back to the crystal he is holding. "So they are not at all covered in some sort of glow-in-the-dark stuff, since they only glow when I cover them with my hand?" The stall owner's smile disappears and his face took a more stern expression. Cian looks back at him calmly. They stare at each other in silence for several seconds, before Cian finally sets the crystal down and backs away. He has clearly outstayed his welcome now.
While muttering under his breath and stuffing more snacks into his mouth, Cian turns away from the stall and looks around for something else of interest. The pretty crystals were probably overpriced for their quality anyway. They were probably just made of fancy glass too! He had seen enough magical items back at home to be certain of when he was being fooled.
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.
Most of them were, indeed, somewhat poor in quality. Anyone worth their salt and from Undunli knew at least the basics of gemology, and could give you a good guess if your gem or mineral was poor in quality. At least, anyone from a mining town—it wasn't something you were specifically taught, per se, just something that happened naturally. It had even happened to Isanti, who hadn't run much with the mine kids, but he still knew how to tell a ruby from a red garnet, or a yellow topaz from a yellow sapphire.
He had been hoping that browsing the stand with the gems would've given him some comfort, but it was kind of the opposite. Not everything was wrong, or bad, but a lot of stuff was mislabeled—probably to try and fleece the Drenchers at the festival, Isanti expected the nobility of the Plate to know their gems too—or just poor in quality. Heck, the gems on Morrocaw's collar were probably worth more than half the table (slight exaggeration).
She was on the other side of him from the stranger also browsing the stones, trying out their 'magical' properties, so it made sense if the man didn't notice the large feline. Isanti very much doubted they were magical. He was a mage-in-training and from Undunli and—yeah, no. The man beside him sees through it, and the stall owner goes very, very frosty.
Bah. Isanti turns to follow the stranger. "Back home, no one would've gotten away with such a scam," he remarks, Undunli accent unmistakable, not caring if the vendor hears—maybe even wanting him to. Isanti fidgets somewhat with the leash in his hand, and Morrocaw presses against his leg. Maybe it's all the impressions, the horde of people, and she's tired from it, because she's being remarkably docile.
Cian has enough time to take a few steps along the street from the stall when he hears a voice right behind him. He chews down the snacks in his mouth quickly before slowing his walking. "Yeah. Nothing wrong with gemstone shaped glass, but don't claim it is a real ruby. Glowing coating is cool too, but don't call it an enchantment." He mutters as he turns around to face whoever was talking.
His eyes wanders over the stranger's mask, over his costume and then lands on the animal by his side the next second. At first his face does not show anything. Whatever it can be showing from behind the mask. Perhaps a cheetah is so unexpected that one does not even see that it is one. Cian certainly did not expect such an exotic animal and it takes him a second to go from 'Cute dog' to 'Now wait a minute.'. He was not even sure what kind of big cat was hiding under there, but he feels a mix of awe and anxiety growing.
"Your kid got a nice cat costume there." A small grin plays on his lips as he makes an attempt at joking to lighten up the mood. Either the other person would find it amusing, or get offended and sic his big cat on him. Though at a second glance, the animal looks rather calm. For now, at least. Curiosity starts pushing away some of the anxiety and a more reasonable voice in his head starts telling him that if the person can walk it around in this big crowd, surely it cannot be the that dangerous.
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.
It's like he's been punched in the face, expecting the agreement but not finding any way to move on from it. yea it sucks and then what, part ways, wander off? "Right?" he manages, fingers tightening around the leash. He wonders why this man too can see through the scam—he sounds like he's from not around here.
But Isanti is too awkward to ask, too ready to just flee again, his annoyance vented, and likely would've (with a "have a nice day", of course) if it wasn't for the fact that his cat was being studied. It seemed rude to drag her off.
"Your kid got a nice cat costume there."
What?
Isanti blinks, plain confusion, "it's not a-"
—his brain catches up, the words stop, pale cheeks heating with an embarrassed flush. Oh. Idiot. His free hand lowers, to seek comfort in the black ruff of the cheetah, scratching at the back of her head. "Her name is Morrocaw," he says, unable to bring himself to look the man in the eye.
Cian gives the other one a frown (that is probably hidden by the mask) and tilts his head curiously to the side.He thought he was the nervous one, but it seems like the other man is even more so. His eyes moves to the hand tightening on the leash, to the other one moving to scratch the cat. The grin turns into a soft smile.
"Nice to meet you, Morrocaw. I'm Cian." He might as well be polite and address the cat. Was that a polite thing to do? Better be on the safe side. Treat the large animal with some respect. "Nice costumes, both of you." He adds and looks from cat to handler.
It was nice costumes. Way nicer than what he has. His cannot really be called a costume, according him himself. Simple coat, borrowed simple mask. Not something he should be spending money on renting, but he also did not want to skip out on the festival.
So from behind the mask, he holds the curious expression and clears his throat a bit awkwardly. "So... You know much about gemstones?" He asks in an attempt to keep the ice broken.
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.
Morrocaw doesn't know words, but she knows attention—even now, when her brain is somewhat overloaded and she's just slowly coming along. Her head tilts back a little as she studies Cian for a brief second, but when nothing in particular comes out of it she lets her gaze roam away again.
"Thank you," he answers, thinking it's true for Morrowcaw (she's got a cape, after all) but for him, well, he's.. well. If he takes a moment to consider what he normally wears, because he finds it comfortable, it is quite different from Plates fashion. So he supposes it looks like a costume. "You too."
Isanti might not have said that much, but his accent ought to be obvious anyway. "Mhhr," he kind of hums, raising his hand from Morrocaw's back to wave it in a little so-so gesture. "I'm from Desclef-" in Undunli, a cliff mining and trading town, rich in culture "-and, uh..." He's suddenly self-conscious about it, the weird divide between the rough, ragged kids his sibling ran with and the upper-class airs of his own family—and the gemstones stuck in between, this weird overlap of knowledge. "Well. Let's just say that in the mining trade, regardless of your position, it behooves you to know a thing or two about the identification and quality of gems and ores."
Again, his slender fingers fidget with the leash. "What, uhm.. what about you?" He's curious what made the other man see through the scam.
His eyes darts between Morrocaw and her handler while the latter speaks. Cat, human, cat, human. cat, want to touch fur, that is a very sparkly mask... Finally, he keeps his attention on the human and nods along with what is being said. Even to the 'You too' about his own outfit. He did not agree with it, but there was no point in stating it. Just politely accept the compliment.
"Mhm, makes sense..." He mumbles as a reply, then clears his throat to speak up properly. "My parents got a shop in a town in Garanenz. Repairing and selling tech items, mechanical trinkets, magical items and the likes. Me and my brother both help out there and my brother is a jeweller on the side, so I've picked up a few things over the years." Thinking of it brings a small chuckle out of him.
"I guess they could not really decide what sort of shop they wanted to have, so they took in a bit of everything." Cian smiles faintly. It was a cosy store. One could always find something new in there. He was missing tinkering with a clock or sorting out stones and the likes. "I've studied a bit of magic myself as well." He then adds with a shrug, as if he half had forgotten about it and just remembered it.
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.
Ah—Garanenz. Explains the accent, but that's kind of where Isanti's knowledge ends. Does he know the geography of the state? Sorta. Does he know their most famous creations, inventions, and people? Yeah. Odds and ends of their history? Mmh. What life was like over there? Nope. And what Cian tells of the store his parents run...
It's a stark contrast to the mountainside villa, the studies, the clean, the quiet, the banquets, the diplomatic meetings, the business trips, the festivals and dinners and showing off the ethereal, cultured, magically-and-artistically inclined Isanti as proof of their legitimate, honorable status in society. Isanti isn't sure of what the shop's actually like, but he imagines it is cluttered, loud, oil stains on workbenches and familial, loving—messy, but everyone knows where everything is. Dirty, but not unhygienic, just—alive. Busy. Isanti is painfully aware that he's useless, he possesses no skills or useful knowledge. He's just a pampered pet, to show off that his parents can afford to keep their offspring as pampered pets.
At least Sarazheha (against the wishes of their parents) knew some useful skills because they kept hanging out with the mine rats.
Isanti chuckles softly, hoping the mournful edge to it wouldn't be too audible. The way Cian talks about it.. it sounds loving, like he's comforted by the memory of it. Sure, Isanti misses home—the ease of it, the ability to just lose himself completely in whatever he's reading, the access to rich, rolling plains and hills for him and Morrocaw to roam... But he doesn't think he'll sound like that talking of his parents villa. It's a sad realization.
Then—
"Oh?" he perks up, something in those blue eyes sharpening, finding some sort of focus in this mellow, exhausting sea of faces and budding grief. Gemology is all forgotten. "What? Where?"
Elegant and eloquent, Isanti. Elegant and eloquent. Your parents would be fucking mortified (—or maybe not, you're kind of talking to a pleb, I guess. They'd probably be mortified about that instead).
Cian keeps a hint of a soft smile on his face. A genuine one. Not just some fake polite one. His eyes continues to give the cheetah curious glances every now and then, but he holds most of his attention on Isanti. "Oh, uh... It was at home. Or, not at home as in my house but in the town. I had a teacher that tried to teach me when I was younger." Another small chuckle leaves him and he rubs the back of his neck.
"I was quite impatient and we mostly did a lot of theory because I often lost my temper over myself when trying to do something practical. But now days, I am mostly figuring it out myself."
It was a bit boring, going at it alone and he often found himself losing patience still. Not because he could not figure out how to do magic, but because it was just not that much fun sitting alone with it. His eyes drift briefly over towards the 'gemstone' stall. He probably could have made some of them roll off the table and make it seem like it happened on its own, and then pockets a few while helping to pick the rest back up. Then sell the stones off to someone to get some money for food and another period for the motel room.
He quickly pushes those thoughts away. It was tempting. It was so very tempting, but he had promised his family to not go back onto that path. He had already slipped one foot back to it and was doing what he could to not start stumbling down it again.
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.
Isanti is a nerd. Isanti is a nerd about magic. It's that plain, and that simple: it's probably the only reason he hasn't tried to run away with Morrocaw, to escape this lockdown hell and the.. the.. well. He's sure that his parents care about him, but they're very preoccupied with their social status and finding out that Isanti had to relocate to the Drench had not gone over well. Every phone call was more about status, and less about how he was doing. Like fucking relax, no one here knows about the Levina family. He's just the local pretty boy with a cheetah and an Undunli accent.
But back to magic: Isanti is a nerd, his tutor is great (but weird and occasionally unsympathetic), and his tutor is also giving him a small allowance for basic tasks Isanti helps him out with. It's not enough, he knows he'll need to find some other job soon, but he's realized one thing: the mage savant had no obligation to help him out financially, or keep him on once the two week mentorship was at its end. Once that went through his thick skull he was very grateful.
Tried. The choice of word makes a small smile ghost across Isanti's ethereal face, the smallest flash of white teeth as his fingers rub along the base of one of Morrocaw's ears. "I struggled a lot with the practical at first too," he admits, and though he doesn't know it, it's clear as day that magic is a subject he is comfortable with, even eager about. His shoulders have relaxed, his eyes are brighter, his mouth pulled into a small, constant smile. "But, that was mainly because my parents were pushing me towards an element I just didn't vibe with. It took me a while to figure that out, unfortunately."
He glances over his shoulder, at the gemstone stall, and then softly takes a step forward, away from it—a small invitation for Cian to stroll along with him through the crowd. "It's why I'm here in the first place. I had a two week internship with a savant, and of course the lockdown happened a few days into it." He sighs.
