It is time to make your wish once and for all. We asked for one for a reason. The wooden tokens hang on the persimmon tree, dangling like ripe fruit fresh for the taking by the gods ... if they find your request worthy enough. It is said if the winds blow in the right direction, all the wishes made pure of heart and honestly will come true.
What will you do? Have your wishes changed? Have they remained? Or do you now have the want to shape your own destiny?
Now ... Tell us your wish.
━━ INSTRUCTIONS.
From OCT 15 to OCT 31, send in the wish your character writes down on the tree. That is, if they decided to do so! There is no telling if their request will come true or not, or if the universe can grant their true desire instead, ignoring their new wish token.
When you have decided, send in their wish to the submit blog. You may either come up with a new wish OR state that your character keeps the same one from their application (we'll show you them on request!). If your character does not want to attend that day for whatever reason or does not make a wish, do not send anything in. There is no telling if this will do any good.
You may SUBMIT TO THIS BLOG what your character will do during this encounter based on the information given. This encounter will have a second part that will lead into the next part of the story and reveal new revelations.
Send in a wish from your character’s perspective and whether they do so sincerely. For example, you will send something along the lines of: I wish to have more money OR I wish for better hair. Vague or grandiose wishes can be made as well (ie. wishing to be happy/living peacefully/), but there is no telling whether any of your muse’s requests will be acknowledged by the gods if they lack sincerity.
As a special note, those who received a visit from either Detective Jang or Agent Kikuchi and agreed to have a discussion with them about the seaside incident will be closely monitored by the two and have their testimonies recorded in full. There is no indication what either of the mysterious men intend to do with the information given or if they plan on investigating any further activities by your character. It may be best to keep your secrets safe.
If your character if involved in law enforcement or journalism, they will be receiving contact from a dubious source asking for your help. Keep a close eye out.
IDENTIFYING THE OBSCURE
↳ festival of wishes, day 3. location; outside hongi shopping center
with @gswmyunghwa
most kids used to think she favored hanako. it might’ve been the bangs, and probably the bob that always seemed so perfectly combed into place. her mother was very particular about that- ataru never knew why. still, she assumes it was her lack of things to say that really sealed the deal. it was only right that this year, she’d bring the japanese urban legend full circle and walk around in a short bob wig, red dress, white ruffled socks and black platformed oxfords. probably didn’t scream maximum effort, but- ataru thought it was... enough?
the buzz in the air seemed like tonight would be eventful whether she decided to do anything or not. already, since day one, she’d seen two different flyers; worn and crumbled but inked up with the details to some interesting house parties. most likely, she’d want to bail- but the idea of knowing more people could bring in the more information... also intrigued her. and now, she was thinking about it.
well, that and that news segment that announced this weeks festivities in general. something seemed off, and when she thought about the mention of security she thought about how different things were cut. how tired, and out of breath mayor moon appeared. but, then again she was too focused on the information being fed to really think much of it then. now, weirdly, things had her thinking. did something happen to him?
an expression dipped in deep thought made her appear rather... serious and lost when she’d started to real her train of thought back in as she walked out- a person approaching with a camera and taru’s steps slowing then shifting direction, assuming she wasn’t their target. even the gaze that was probably already caught- she ditched, pretending she didn’t make eye contact.
Hyun was a little conflicted. In one side, he really wanted to get to know more of the island, more of its people, hence why he was at this festival of wishes thing. But on the other side, he was at a festival of wishes thing and he thought everything was dumb and foolish. Why would people even believe in these things? He had no idea and he feared hearing explanations involving the words fate and fortune. He almost shivered imagining himself having that conversation with someone and he secretly hoped not to run into any weirdos that night.
He had to admit the wished looked nice hanging from the tree, it has its aesthetic and he figured that’s why so many people were here taking pictures. That reminded him of another encounter and he almost shivered in fear, again. He wasn’t sure of what to do now so he approached a police officer, they were there to help, right? And he was in desperate need of help.
“Please, sir, tell me you’re one of the smart ones and don’t believe in any of this wish shit that’s going on” He said, greeting the officer with a nod of his head. “I’m bored, sir, and I know you’re not here for my entertainment but I’m new in town and I have absolutely no idea of what to do” He added, sighing loudly. Maybe he would feel pity and actually engage in conversation. Not like Hyun needed it desperately but he would like to have someone to talk to.
A certain proclivity to impulsiveness was a trait long since quenched in the woman's tidy, succinct life in Seoul. She stuck to a tight schedule, accustomed to working around others and a production manager's directions. A creature of habit was made of her. No longer existed the spur of the moment driven young woman that Sihyun left behind with the rest of the Moon family, insistent that she not be the same. That she not be driven merely by a hunch or emotions... — and here she still stands, twiddling her fingers in the company of a strange man newly acquainted with.
( In fairness, he certainly was charming in his own way, if stilted expressions resembling that of an every day human could be considered so. Perhaps it is this touch of eccentricity that taps into her own and pulls her to listen. Or perhaps, her propensity to put more value into pretty looking things. )
The man named Yiming ( Mr. Guan, as she refers to him ) rambles on about his own preventative measures and intentions to leave offerings to whatever entity lingered about in the abandoned Northern Village. It was long abandoned for reasons not entirely unclear to her. Her own grandfather, the mayor of Dangam, in particular warned her of poking around up there even as a child. But back then, he still had color in his cheeks and a fullness to his crooked smile.
"Mr. Guan, I'm not too sure if it is vampires we're dealing with here. Maybe something else entirely... like malevolent ghosts or goblins." She scoffs and waves her hand, covering her own answers that are perhaps closer to Yiming's answer than she cares to admit. Blood-sucking creatures, he clamors on about. Her eyes dart away.
"I still have a bunch of my ex-husband's things I brought with me. I also played a shaman on TV once in a show and have some goodies. I think your oranges and persimmons will be just fine. You know... on the island, persimmons are said to hold special properties! At least, that's what the grannies have been telling me."
she couldn’t precisely say what she expected from this festival. gluttony and hedonism characterized most celebrations in her life, overabundance of food, far more alcohol than could ( or should ) be consumed. myunghwa enjoyed such parties, leaving with vague memories of the happenings of the night. but equally, she was enamored with the homey entertainment provided by the island folk. silly traditions and wholesome movie nights could be charming, she had to admit. unfortunately, myunghwa was a magnet for trouble. rather, she walked into it head first would be more appropriate. without thinking, she went wherever her attention was caught. curious by nature, this tendency carried itself well into her adult years. tonight, that very curiosity brought her to a costume party with supposedly the best music.
she hadn’t had too much to drink that night. one too many mistakes cautioned her from allowing her private hobbies to permeate her public life. for the most part, the familiar ambiance around her was comforting. she appreciated all celebration, always finding reason to break up the monotony of her days. to say the rest was a blur would be cliché. no, the moment of disaster would remain all too vividly imprinted in her memory. the sweetness of liquor mixed with the salt in the air. music vibrating around her, disrupting the otherwise peaceful festivities. screams of excitement quickly transforming into ones of fear. hands pushed her around yet myunghwa was unable to follow the crowd this time. bodies that had been pressed together near the dj collided with each other on their way out, but she remained locked in place.
flames danced before her, source unknown ( and unimportant ) to the her. danger that was growing awfully familiar to myunghwa loomed before her. instinct should have directed her to run, adrenaline taking the wheel and leading her to safety. yet, like the fool she was, she chose neither fight or flight, incapacitated by memories she had supposedly compartmentalized. her response, another remnant of her childhood, was to press her lids tightly together. as if she hadn’t learned object permanence. as if she could will the flames away by ignoring them. though perhaps the goal was never self-preservation. perhaps it was merely to avoid facing her own imminent injury.
curiosity mixed with cowardice. what a disastrous combo in one person.
GROVE
At the edges of the orchard, late, ft. Noeul — @gswnoeul
Harang wouldn’t call himself drunk. Not the proper kind, with slurred out consonants and a sudden, jarring realization that the ground has never been flat. Buzzed, that’s the feeling he chases. Where all those drinks flood at thoughts, submerge them enough to where they can’t chatter around insistent and vitriolic between his ears. Stops at the point where his fingertips start stinging with the sensation of pins and needles, his jaw loosening around the idea of talking truth, and where sprawling his body out in uncut grass seems comfortable.
The sky’s spilled out in an oil slick above above him, the moon a weak flicker, like someone had taken shears and clipped once - hastily - through the night. If Harang squints his eyes hard enough, ignores the throb of blood vessels, he can make it warp into two.
Grass coils in at his ankles and tickles thin skin, evokes the image of many-legged bugs scattered across his body. But that’s not the sort of thing that perturbs him, and so he leaves his limbs slack and tries to pick out stars from the dark. He feels like there should be more, it’s not like the island is aglow with light pollution to hide them in florescent smog. He should go home, back to his mattress that’s somehow stiffer than the dirt at his back. He should eat food, something real and with wider nutritional value than stale bar pretzels. Should chug back a half liter of water, and then scrub at the sticky stain of something (vodka? juice?) near his wrist. Should do a whole lot of things really, but not moving is the easiest choice to make. And easy is such a effortless temptation to give into.
It’s only when a set of footsteps start splitting the gravel that Harang blinks away white spots and doubled moons, hoists his weight up and balances it on his elbows. He can’t figure out his expression by the time time Noeul walks close enough to see it, but it feels like a frown.
“Why’re you out here?” Harang asks like this forgotten patch of land is his to stake claim to. He tips his head back toward the trees jutting out from behind him, twisted boughs and wind whistling through the skinny gaps of space between them. Wishes twist and spiral on the twine knotted through them, most littering the outskirts. "What’d you do, make a wish and then think of a better one? Don’t think you’re allowed to change it.”
Soohyun wasn’t really one for wishes, or for fairytales. When he was little, the nanny used to bring out a beautiful white cake filled with fruit and whipped cream on his birthday. She would stick pink and white and blue candles, softly singing happy birthday until he blew them out. Sometimes, she would ask him what he wished for.
He couldn’t remember what he told her anymore.
The charms hanging above their heads fluttered gently in the autumn wind. If he looked up and focused, he could make out the wishes written on the low hanging charms. White slips with crowded words. Someone had wished for a brief winter. Someone else wished that their crush would like them back. Simple, easy wishes. He wondered when the last time he could have thought of wishes that nice was.
His internal musings were interrupted when someone else stepped up to the wish writing table next to him. A quick glance revealed a man dressed warmly. He was handsome, if a little familiar. Maybe he had one of those faces.
His caretaker’s voice echoed in his head. Be friendly, Soohyun-ah. He glanced again at the man standing next to him, both their wish slips still blank. “What are you planning on wishing for?”
It was day two of the Festival of Wishes celebration. While most islanders would be gathering around a bonfire for a ghost story or catching a classic horror film, Yiming decided to spice up his night even further by visiting the village of dead.
To be fair, he wasn’t doing this because he was a stupid, adventure seeking tourist. In his mind, this was an actual good deed and the entertainment he would get out of it was a secondary motivator. See, everyone was afraid of this village because they believe it was haunted by evil spirits. Yiming visited a few weeks ago and while the place was certainly unsettling, he had detected no real evil. If an island priest cannot be convinced to go cleanse the place, then he figured he shall hire some brave religious personnel on his own.
Yes, Yeonhee. The young woman claimed to be a shaman and eh, she was as good as anyone else he could find. On top of it, Yiming had prepared all the materials necessary to perform a Chinese ritual he learned from his dad. If the ghosts of the Northern Village did not wish to heed Yeonhee’s shaman methods, perhaps they’d enjoy the Chinese method.
“Remember what we discussed last time, about cleansing the Northern Village? Yeah, let’s do it tonight.” They were specifically warned to stay away from that village during the Festival of Wishes, but Yiming figured it was the perfect time. The warning would have kept other people out of the village, leaving it blissfully empty for their rituals.
To be honest, he still didn’t really believe in spirits. This was more for the people who were alive. If they did the cleansing and came out unscathed, maybe other islanders would be less afraid and be willing to walk in the area again.
“You are free, right?” Yiming asked with a pleasant smile and a neatly stacked pile of bills on his palm.
