Tanabata - [Open City Post]

[stringmods]

▼ Evening of the 7th

 

Who: Anyone
Where: The entire city
When: July 7th
Summary: The Star Festival
Warnings: That depends who is there. Remember to mark your titles clearly if any warnings need to be issued!

▼ A tale of two lovers...

 

The bamboo leaves rustle,
shaking away in the eaves.
The stars twinkle
on the gold and silver grains of sand.
The five-colour paper strips
I have already written.
The stars twinkle,
they watch us from heaven.

▼ A festival for a growing city

 

It is perhaps the most classical love story that most of the Hinoto-Ri natives knew about; the story of Orihime, the weaving goddess, and Hikoboshi. Instantly falling in love, the two gods would often forget about their duties to the point of negligence in order to be together, so much so that the other gods forcibly separated them. Crying for each other's comfort, they were allowed to visit each other on the 7th day of the 7th month...as long as it didn't rain.

Today, the sun is high in the air, a small wind making the overall experience not too unpleasant. Clearly it's a time for celebration so the lovers may meet again.

In the Capricorn ward, at the edge of the Central Park of Hinoto-Ri, numerous booths have seemingly sprung up overnight. Colorful banners decorate every single tree, and you can spot the faeries fluttering about, the very same ones who caused the Visitors so much trouble up to just a few days prior, helping out by adding their own personal touches to the festival, be that a good thing or a bad thing. Most of the leaves are filled with perfect droplets of dew, reflecting the sun and giving everything a jewel-like appearance.

Even with the harsh life, Hinoto-Ri knew how to make each celebration special. The booths themselves had everything one could hope in such a festival, from mountains of star candy to spinning top toys to booths selling small bambo and basil plants decorated for the occasion. Booth food, as always, was delicious and fresh, and you could attempt to catch goldfish or even turtles if you had money to spare.

Walk around in the more traditional outfits or in your normal clothing, no one is going to complain in this mixture of demonic heritage and human initiative.

Giant streamers were attached to the largest tree trunks and many large bamboo trees had been brought in, covered in paper cranes and wishing paper, blank sheets nearby so you could add your own. In fact, it is encouraged! What wish did you want to write down today?

At night, entire rows of the city are covered in bright lights and laterns, the festival lasting until early morning, despite the 13th hour. Just be careful where you're going, they set up parameters for this, but it just wouldn't be a star festival without viewing them up in the sky, right?

The giant telescope at the astrology center is made public for all those who wish to see the heavenly lights. Just don't linger too long, as others want to get a glimpse too! It's important to share...

...Especially when the fireworks go off later at night! Not only are they absolutely stunning to watch, but there's an evident bit of magic involved in them, as they take on figures and animals, telling the mythological tale of the two lovers, now found.

During the day and through the night, you can hear sounds of the Taiko drums in the various public squares. There are a few groups, each with their own set giving you a listening experience unlike any other.

[Feel free to start your own threads! The festival is open to everyone, day and night and you can do anything at zombocom at the festival. If you want to get a better understanding of what your characters might see and do, these videos will help.]

Comments

[themortalhalf]

In contrast, Shinjiro's last Tanabata had been far from adventurous. Or festive. The day itself had passed by with remarkably little fanfare.

Shinjiro wouldn't have minded keeping things that way. Maybe he should have taken advantage of the opportunity to stay home and appreciate the relative lack of company. And he had, for a short while, but Shinjiro eventually he found himself heading out the door. One of these days he will spend his time being deliberately and happily anti-social, but he guesses today isn't one of them. He wanders around for awhile, eventually arriving into the area where she said she'd probably be, watching both demons and humans alike tie short, thin strips of paper on bamboo. He spots Minako soon afterward.

Had she not been alone, he might have left her where she was and slipped back into the crowd. Let Iori entertain her. One of her other friends. Or Miki. (Though Miki seemed to have sequestered herself away into her room, which made him a little bit concerned, though he was never one to push and ask questions he might regret getting the straight answer to.) He could easily leave her to someone else far more entertaining than he was for awhile.

But as that isn't the case, he approaches anyway, watching her tie a strip of paper to one of the branches. Given what happened last time he had given in to the childish impulse to take try his luck at fortune, he's not sure how skeptical or wary he should be of them, given what had happened last time—though he's still not sure what to blame things on. It takes him a few moments to weave through the crowd and few seconds more to notice that she actually wearing shoes this time around. He fails to suppress the laugh that escapes out his throat, and wastes a few more futile seconds in trying before giving it up as a lost cause.

"I thought you were done with these kinds of things."

[greatseal]

"That depends on which things you're talking about!"

Sorry to disappoint him, but she'll never be done going to festivals.

She is glad to see him, though. Not surprised, but still glad.

[themortalhalf]

He figured that during the first one. After the fish.

The corners of his mouth twitched. "You've lost the geta, anyway."

He thinks he likes it that way. He can fix her geta as many times as life sees fit to break it, but bruises take far longer to heal.

[greatseal]

"They just didn't seem worth it. If you didn't show up, I might end up hitting some random stranger in the head instead." She winks, showing that she isn't so upset about her string of bad luck that she can't poke fun at herself for it. "And besides... no one's going to be staring at my feet anyway."

Especially not the guys.

[themortalhalf]

And they all know what happened the last time she had accidentally assaulted a random stranger. It had been like a pebble thrown into a damn pond.

His eyes wander over to strips of paper hanging from the branches as casually as they would have anywhere else. His eyes narrow when he thinks he catches a flash of familiar handwriting. His expression is still the picture of stonewalled neutrality.

...He doesn't need to smile more.

"Now that you're not gonna go ahead and trip over 'em, probably not."

[greatseal]

She notices his eyes wandering to the paper... which isn't surprising considering she wrote it in giant, bold script.

What can she say? He has a really adorable smile.

"But this still doesn't mean the other times weren't flukes! I'm just preparing for the unexpected."

[themortalhalf]

With an emoticon. Hell if he knows why that's there. He had thought that was mainly just a text thing.

Maybe because she wanted him to read it if he chanced by—which wouldn't surprise him—and he warily debates the virtues between saying nothing and commenting on it. She might be putting hints on the table, but not all of them are safe for him to pick up without getting the tables turned on him because she enjoys her games, and he fails at putting up much of a fight because he somehow makes things to easy.

"Not saying they weren't. Not like I'm complaining—it's one less thing I have to worry about."

Let alone any unfortunate strangers.

[greatseal]

One less thing out of a list of many.

With her goal of him seeing the paper completed, there's no more reason to hang around this area. She grabs his arm, an undoubtedly familiar gesture by now. "Well, enough about me, Senpai. You're here now, so let's go do something fun!"

[themortalhalf]

Familiar enough that he no longer has any reason to be surprised. The only thing surprising about it is that he's starting not to mind it so much anymore. There's still a part of him that feels a bit awkward about it, and probably always will, but it's quiet enough he almost doesn't notice under normal circumstances. It's not something he had imagined being used to.

But he's happy enough to leave her wishes and wishes of others behind. Soon there won't be much left of them once the festival sets fire to it and lets the bamboo and paper burn.

"I think the 'fun' stuff is over that way," he says, tilting his head to the left, where the main pathways intertwine and are lined with the varicolored streamers and lanterns. He's pretty sure he could label most of the "fun" activities going on in the booths as pointless, if he was allowed to put his grumpy vocabulary into use, but he'll let her have her festivals.

[greatseal]

Unfortunately she intends to make him participate a little more directly in the process. "Looks good to me! Why don't you pick what we do first?"

She could have just said 'pick your poison,' but it was implied anyway.

[themortalhalf]

"All right."

Well, he did invite this venture upon himself. He could have stayed home. But if he's going to pick his own poison, he wants to die as quietly as possible. He wonders if that's his punishment for looking at what she wrote on the tanzaku. Even though that might have been what she was gunning for. He's still managed to keep a straight face.

He knows he could probably skirt the issue by just heading through the food stalls and distracting her the best way he's knows how, but all that is is a distraction. He's been through festivals with her plenty of times before, because for all this Japan has changed, its festivals certainly haven't deviated much from the norm. And he can play games certainly. It's not like he's incapable, though the idea makes him want to dig his heels into the dirt somewhere and see if maybe he can break a shoe this time around. They're just silly little distractions, and each one he sees is just another he can't see himself doing, even though he remembers playing them once upon a time.

Not far in, though, he spots one he hasn't seen in awhile—a katanuki stall already set up with tables and chairs and illuminated by decorated lanterns. It's frequented by people of varying ages despite the apparent simplicity of the activity—though it's certainly much more difficult than it looks. Maybe because it requires actual patience. He remembers trying his hand diecutting at festivals more often than others. It was cheap, had its share of prizes, and was a good deal quieter than the rest of the louder, more active activities going on elsewhere, which helped because Miki had always been shy then. It also amused Shinjiro to some degree to see just how many of the molds Aki could break within a limited timeframe.

He regards the stall for a for a few moments before stopping.

"Ever tried katanuki before?"

[greatseal]

"Hmm... not in a long time!"

Probably the last time had been...

...with Minato. They'd gone to festivals fairly often. It was one way their father made up for working long hours.

Afterwards, she kept going to festivals when she could, but katanuki hadn't come up again. It wasn't one of the more common attractions, anyway - the more recent Iwatodai festival she'd been to hadn't even had a booth for it.

"But this is surprising, Senpai... You have an artistic side! Or is it because candy is a kind of food?" Not that they're going to eat this.

[themortalhalf]

He reddens slightly, and shrugs his shoulders.

He wouldn't go that far. Nothing he can remember doing at booths like these deserved to be called artistic. Not like he drew childhood masterpieces on the die cuts after—at least, not that he can remember. Maybe he gave a cat whiskers, eyes, and a mouth once or twice or something, but the mold wasn't something easily worked with. It broke too easy to be tampered with. Even if you took the cutouts home, the shapes never lasted for very long before becoming ashes of what they once were.

"It's just something we did a lot as kids, is all." He scrutinizes some of the pink and blue molds he spots on the tables, favoring them with a brief frown. "Not sure I'd call any of that food, anyway. It's bland and tasteless."

Without even an ounce of nutritional value. It wasn't even sweet enough to be called candy in his book, and he wasn't sure he was unwilling to let something like this pass as food. Bland at best, unappetizing at worst. That ain't food.