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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[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.