Oh. Hey there.

[ the voice that drifts through the communicators defies description. it is venus's voice, and it is not; like a young tenor, barrel-aged since the beginning of time and only just coming into its own. it sounds like fresh hookah and tastes like music. it's like static and honey, gently sifting out of electronic speakers. ]

This place... [ a sigh. ] It's beautiful, isn't it? A thousand thousands, living their own truths. It's flawed, and uncut, and cracked down the edges. It's the most beautiful, wonderful gem I've seen.

[ for a few seconds, the recording stays silent. all that remains is the background noise of lunatia: voices trickling up from the streets. the whirr of machinery and the hum of crystals. ]

There are hundreds of you, and I know so few. [ there's something ancient in her words. deep, old, sad. ] So while there's still time... Tell me. Remind me of your name. Let me see your face so I never forget it again.

[ an exhale, long and smooth. ]

And if you're hurting, or lonely, or you've forgotten too... Find me. I'm waiting. I'll always wait for you.

[ there's a soft laugh, barely audible - a fond exhalation more than anything voiced. ]

Until then, my darling.

[ the recording clicks off. ]