[open log] star light star bright, the first star i see tonight

[topslug]

Who: Anyone & everyone!
When: July 6th-July 9th
Where: In front of the Newcomer Community Center.
Summary: The seventh day of the seventh month; a time to make wishes and a time to dream.
Warnings: None for the foreseeable future! NSFW wishes may crop up, so I'll update this entry as necessary.

Comments

notifs suck

[stabilimentum]

[Claude blinks once, twice, then again. In the briefest flicker of shifting eyes and jaw tensing, his surprise for what Yako said is apparent. Perhaps it's the modern era that has irrevocably changed all notion of privacy--that it's socially acceptable to read over the wishes of others. For what he truly is and where he comes from, Claude thinks wish-making is an intimate, almost sacred activity with details to be divulged only if it's of the utmost importance.

And, yes, of course it's hypocritical of him to frown at her. He's all too eager to memorize these wishes and fantasize about prying apart the minds that made them. He never claimed he was anything other than an unrepentant monster, though. When will humanity learn its lesson about taking forbidden knowledge?

Oh well. They're inherently curious things, the both of them, whether or not it damns them. She's curious about what he is, too, and he's curious about how she's curious in the first place. For her boldness, he'll deign to stop frowning and answer.]

Many of them are selfish and self-serving, but such is the nature of wishes, [he says, looking at the colorful notes again.] However, there is one in particular...

[He doesn't reach for it, out of a queer sort of respect for it. He looks at it, that's all, knowing exactly where it's pinned.]

"I wish I had a wish to make."

[Just saying it aloud makes his lips curl with pleasure.]

Novel.

they suck even more than usual these days

[topslug]

[ That's one Yako hasn't seen before; she follows Claude's gaze to the board, to bright pieces of paper pinned like so many fluttering, shifting butterflies against the dull cork. It doesn't take long to spot it, and she smiles, echoing Claude. ]

It sounds a little sad, don't you think? [ A breeze kicks up and the susurrus of the paper makes it almost seem as though the wishes are dissatisfied, straining to tear free. ] I wonder if that means they've given up on wishing. Or maybe they just wanted to be different. [ She trails off.

Yako likes thinking about the kinds of people who would have made a wish like that. Anonymity isn't necessarily a guarantee of honesty. There are some wishes too personal and too heartfelt to ever put on a board. ]