text; un: adversary

[wingstosee]

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. ]

Comments

[wingstosee]

[ a part of her wants to make some comment, that he can be a little rougher if he wants, that she won't break under his fingertips. but half-joking flirtations aside, there's something intimate about letting people feel her wings. not sexy intimate, just... there's a lot of trust involved. it'd be so easy for people to just reach a little too far, or prod too much, or any number of things.

so instead, she quietly - and contentedly - answers. ]

It's only confusing when I can't see it. It's like... [ she trails off, trying to put together human language to describe something entirely inhuman. ] ...have you ever worn an eyepatch for too long? Or tried to look through someone else's glasses, and you keep focusing, and finally you can sort of see? And then you go back, and it's like- suddenly everything's right again, even if you'd almost forgotten?

[ she's not sure she can do any better than that, honestly. ]

[lacrimose]

Yeah... I used to do that with my mom's glasses when I was little.

[It's a bittersweet memory, but a fond one, so he knows exactly what she's talking about.]

I bet it's useful. No one could sneak up on you, right?

[Unless she was sleeping, maybe. He lets go of the wing once more, sitting back in his chair.]

[wingstosee]

Yeah. You get it.

[ slowly, any tension in her body unwinds. the eyes closest to akira's hand gently peek through half-opened lids, staring up at him and his hand with a clear curiosity. when he finally does let go, her wing twitches - shakes a tiny bit, airs out her feathers - and folds back in to its resting position. ]

Oh, yeah. Mostly? I mean, sometimes I'm just... not paying attention, and then it's anyone's guess. But usually I can see anything that's happening in a room. [ a beat. ] It makes life a lot easier. Like, if I don't remember where I put my keys? I can look everywhere at once.

[ she giggles and sits back down herself, scooting herself in and taking another drink. it's... a lot easier, interacting like this. a lot less panicky. like they're finally past the first, basic introduction, and now she doesn't have to worry about coming across like an idiot. ]

...how long have you been here?

[lacrimose]

[Akira frowns and has to do some quick counting on his fingers -- it looks like he hasn't been paying too close attention to the time passed here, or he's simply lost track.]

About six months. You?