SALTBURNT | hex club group chat.

[powerhungry]

HEX CLUB/PINK SLIP GROUP CHAT. SILCO HAS ADDED YOU TO THIS CHAT. 42 people: Silco, Gwen, Faith, Hawk, Neon, Buffy, Cassian, Devon, Koby, Shadowheart, Stephen, Yeko, Zephir, Dean, Tara, Wanda, Jake, Saber, Sanji, Adrian; Ani, Peony, Bob, Yelena, Valentina, Sam, Max, Tristan, Parisa, Qimir, Thresher, Armand, Shauna, Cellar, Roza, Iggy, Isolde, Peter, Wally, Danny, Eddie, Teddie.

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[powerhungry]

[ This is, perhaps, the clearest demonstration he's had of Koby's abilities — and he wonders, as the windows rattle and the room groans, just how much of a hold the boy has on what he can do. (And he remembers, unwillingly, the way he'd looked in the costume room, unwilling to be present in his own skin when the alternative was to let go, to let somebody else take the reins.)

When Koby looks up, Silco's expression betrays only concern — and a certain bitterness, the circumstances of his recent death (and of the death of the thing he loves most, in this place), warping the thin line of his mouth. That he understands the Library a little better now doesn't mean that he entirely trusts it. The house plays tricks on them every other month, after all, to no real discernible benefit of theirs.

But it had meant to keep them from the woods, from what lay beyond the grounds.

So, simply: ] Explain.

[kobes]

[despite the severity of the situation, the very real potential of harm coming to the people koby cares about most, being given the opportunity to freely expand on his theories prompts a brightness that he hasn't had since before the commune.

speaking of -- out of the bag he carries around, koby pulls out a hastily-made copy of gwen's map, setting it down beside the book.]

There are two forces here, the House and whatever is in the Commune. The House -- I think we're like playthings to it, still, but beloved ones. [tapping the book, flicked back open to koby’s page --] It's complimentary, it calls me brave and kind, it calls Jinx a light, Ani a queen -- it's almost affectionate.

[pivoting to the map, koby taps at a hasty scribble, one not present in the photos.] When I saw this in person, there was writing that wasn't there before. "You were seen, you are seen, you will be seen again". Gwen confirmed, that only appeared when I was there -- maybe because I was there, at the Commune, since she wasn't?

[sitting back a bit now--] I think they're in conflict, the House and this -- watching force. This watcher. I think they're fighting over us.

[powerhungry]

[ Silco's frown only deepens as he regards the new text, concern reading more clearly on his expression as if in a sort of equivalent exchange for Koby's brightening demeanor. (It's for the best, at least, that the boy thrives with something tangible to do, even if Silco doesn't have much positive to say about their circumstances.)

They're fighting over us, only insomuch as that their absence would ostensibly make it easier for whatever it is outside the manor walls to get in. They're playthings, and tools, too. Friends, his book says. But based on what, he wonders. ]

We have an in, [ he says at length. ] It needs us.

[ And even if he doesn't consider it as having served as much of a shield, before, there's something in the text that reads— not like incentive, but like trade. The ones who guard hardest, I keep in my arm.

Then, with a nod: ] The pamphlets. Did either of you try placing an order?

[kobes]

[nodding slightly, koby settles back in the chair, feeling a little out of breath from the intensity of trying to convey everything that's in his head. silco hasn't dismissed it outright or called it ridiculous or idiotic or short-sighted and that -- it means more than koby can articulate.]

It needs us. I thought it was to feed on and -- maybe it is, but. [flicking back to the end of silco's book, re-reading the words he's already committed to memory:] I needed them all. Maybe it's a trick, but I don't...

I don't think so. [it makes things make sense, and despite koby's doubts about his own page, the others are true. jinx's light, sanji's kindness, hawk's mind -- it's all their best parts, laid out, encircled with the truth: the house is the one in control, and it's heart still beats, despite everything.

at the question, koby shakes his head, already lighting up with determination.] No, but -- I can. I can see what happens. I'd rather it be me than Gwen, in case anything goes wrong.

[powerhungry]

[ For a long moment, Silco doesn't respond. He uses the time, instead, to fish a pack of cigarettes from elsewhere in his desk, lighting one up and taking a long drag. This is, he supposes, the best way for this to work. He can be enough of a cynic — a pragmatist — for the both of them. ]

Be careful, [ he says, finally, as he offers the pack to Koby. (A gesture of consideration, mostly, when he's never seen the boy smoke.) ]

If you change your mind—

[ His narrow shoulders lift in a shrug. It's less, in the end, about what Koby does or doesn't want, but rather that if one of them is to remain standing, better for it to be the boy, trusted by all, than a former wolf, but he's not about to say that out loud. ]

[kobes]

[a nod to the warning, then a gentle headshake and a hand help up to politely refuse the pack -- he's smoked with ani, once or twice, lung-clenching, wheezing moments that had the bright seabird-call of her laugh ringing in his ears. embarrassing himself in front of silco is something else entirely, though.

koby stands, sensing he's being dismissed, and some of that bright, eager, keen-minded focus is shuttered again as he folds up his copy of the map. he doesn't meet silco's eyes again.] I won't. If I can help, I will. That's what I do.

[said less with resignation and more -- needing to find comfort in something steady, something dependable. his month of escaping into his head is over; there are more important things to focus on, now.]

[powerhungry]

[ Silco nods, letting whatever argument he could make pass him by. His fingers work, meanwhile, to put away the pack. The few equations he can pull out of the air nearly all work out like this. The boy needs a project. Would rather take a burden on, himself, than allow another to show it. That's what I do, from his own lips. As for the last— ]

You saw the letters left with your body.

[ The corners of his eyes wrinkle a little, the expression wry, as he lets the rest go unsaid. There was no such wake for him. Just a death, a pack of cigarettes, and a single, solitary letter. ]

Thank you, Koby. [ He looks down, the dismissal a little more concrete. ]

You'll hear from me again soon.

[kobes]

[the mention of it makes koby twitch a little, eyes flicking up, fixing on silco's face, suddenly sober.] The people who missed you most couldn't write, Mr. Silco. [it's quiet, but firm, no-nonsense, his intention clear -- doing that to jinx again is unacceptable. koby refuses any negotiation, as steely now as he'd been undone the last time they'd seen one another. and perhaps, beneath it: his own return had him insensate, delusional, barely lucid, as unable to write as if he'd been dead as well.

then, tucking the map into his bag --] I'm stronger than I look, too, remember. [a glance towards the windows, meaningful, though the oppressive weight in the air doesn't resurface. koby straightens up, resists, as always, the urge to salute.]

I'll look forward to it.