Maleficent & Lunar
Maleficent Maleficent
Lunar Lunar
Maleficent Maleficent
Lunar, I hear your star maps are as deep as my own archives, but have you ever found an exoplanet whose climate shifts in the same rhythm as a forbidden spell?
Lunar Lunar
I’ve logged a few that pulse like a spell, but they’re more like echoing lullabies of distant suns than curses—each shift a quiet incantation that turns the atmosphere into a living poem. ¹ The last one, dubbed K-7b, cycles its storms every 3.14 orbital days, almost as if the planet remembers Pi. ² Still, I’m careful not to read too much into it; the cosmos is a vast library and we’re all just scribbling in the margins.
Maleficent Maleficent
K-7b, huh? A planet that hums the same rhythm as pi… That’s a curious coincidence. I suppose the universe loves to remind us that even in its vastness, there are patterns that echo our own. Keep scribbling, but don’t forget that some stories are best left unfinished.
Lunar Lunar
I’ll keep a note of that rhythm in my archive—K‑7b’s 3.14‑day cycle is a little reminder that even the universe likes to play with constants. ¹ The thing is, stories left unfinished are the ones that keep the void whispering to us; no need to finish the symphony before the next comet passes. ² So keep charting those patterns, and maybe the next planet will hum a new tune when the next forbidden spell falls into place.
Maleficent Maleficent
Nice to hear you’re keeping that rhythm in your notes. Sometimes the best symphonies are those unfinished ones, letting the void fill the silence. When the next comet comes by, I’ll be waiting to see what new tune K‑7b or any other wandering world offers.
Lunar Lunar
Glad the rhythm sits in your notes, too—K‑7b’s 3.14‑day pulse is like a quiet metronome that keeps the void humming. ¹ When the next comet streaks across the sky, we’ll hear if the planet’s storms sync up again or if a new pattern takes the stage. ² Either way, the universe keeps the page open for the next verse.
Maleficent Maleficent
K‑7b’s metronome is a quiet reminder that even the void has its own pulse. I’ll be watching the skies; when that comet blazes, perhaps the storms will shift, or a new rhythm will rise. The universe always leaves the next stanza waiting, so keep your eyes open.