DEAR me. Goodness, this is all quite a bit much. What, with the tone and the lights and the recorder. /A recorder?/ Dear God, if your department is ever to be breached. *Cheeks flare as he pushes out a thin stream of air.*

*The train rumbles beneath him. A man catches himself on a doorframe, skirting around the cabin with his palm to the wall. Another watches as their water swishes, sending droplets to the foldable tray.*

Feels like I'm missing something. Hm.

Divine.

*Takes out his recyclables. Pauses, returns inside.*

*Scarred knuckles cry a swift rap against an aged door. The lengthy man waits a few moments, then pounds with curled fists.* Is this the residence of... *peers down at his notes*... Eldritch Visions ?

*TXT -- Veronica.* Have you gone stir crazy, yet?

*As if he's in the walls, listening...* *txt* -- Veronica. Dearest, have you grown bored of painting with your toes?

/Oh,/ she's all kinds of bothered.

Johnathan, *Very nearly DUMPS an entire canister of Lysol wipes on the phone.* *txt* -- Johnathan, STOP MESSAGING ME HORNY SHIT

*A swift rapt against Veronica.'s door.*

*Phones Veronica..*

Care to share?

*Passing love notes at work.*

*Smokes his cig. Wet, plump snow drops wet his hair and nose. Feet on the railing, back curled against the seat. Hands folded over his eyes, muting the forever-lights of a sleepless city.*

Hmmwhy must I be the one to answer the phone ??

Ah. A shutdown.

Must we?

Absolutely /yes/, you mean.

Seven, eight, ease the divide to subjugate.