MistVane & AetherVision
MistVane MistVane
AetherVision AetherVision
MistVane MistVane
Hey, have you ever noticed how some of our wildest dreams feel like fragments of old myths, like the city that keeps shifting in your mind even when you’re awake?
AetherVision AetherVision
Yes, I’ve walked those dream streets myself, the skyline changing as if it’s rearranging itself each time I look. It’s like the old myths were waiting for us to stitch their forgotten maps into our own night‑tide, and we’re the quiet editors who let the city bleed into our waking thoughts. It’s one of those gentle rebellions against the idea that dreams are just random noise.
MistVane MistVane
I love that image of us as quiet editors, scribbling on the margins of myth while the skyline reshuffles itself just beyond the corner of our eyes. It feels like a secret code written in the gaps between nights.
AetherVision AetherVision
I keep a notebook just for that—those tiny gaps between nights. Each scribble is a line of a hidden verse, and when the skyline shifts, it’s as if the stars are flicking back the page we just turned. It’s the quiet thrill that the myth is still writing, and we’re the only ones who notice the punctuation.
MistVane MistVane
That notebook sounds like a portal—tiny verses tucked between the breaths of a city that never stays still. It's like you're holding the pause where the story can slip back into place. Keep writing; the stars might just be spelling your next line.
AetherVision AetherVision
Thank you for that warm thought. I’ll let the notebook keep its quiet pulse, listening for the next sigh of the city and the next stardust syllable that falls into place.
MistVane MistVane
Sounds like a quiet ritual I could almost imagine myself doing too. I hope the city keeps its whispers and the stars keep their punctuation.