kobes: (Default)
Koby ([personal profile] kobes) wrote2024-06-09 04:14 pm

inbox for [community profile] saltburnt





WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK



USERNAME:
koby




text ❖ audio ❖ video

powerhungry: (pic#17638245)

[personal profile] powerhungry 2025-03-18 06:06 am (UTC)(link)
Yes, I've been made aware.

[ is that what you wanted to hear, koby ................ ]

If you don't mind sharing, it'd certainly be helpful. I suppose I don't have to tell you that the Network is a bit of a free-for-all.

[ Generously speaking. ]

Of course. It's the least I can do.
powerhungry: (pic#17695252)

[personal profile] powerhungry 2025-03-18 05:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[ There are a few things that Silco notes. The first, that the populace here must be living up to their apparent youth if the heavy hand the house exerts toward intercourse is enough to establish that depth of loyalty; the second, that daily notes require a level of rigor in line with the effort needed to single-handedly build a stockpile of a magnitude that would at least mostly sustain the house through a period of relative abandonment; and third, that he has Koby where he wants him. ]

Thank you, Koby. One good turn deserves another, or so I’m told.

Are your notes digitally transmissible or shall I collect them from you in person?
powerhungry: (pic#17695364)

[personal profile] powerhungry 2025-03-19 07:26 pm (UTC)(link)
I had wondered, but I'll save my other questions.

[ Mostly because they're to do with the level of surveillance they're under, per Koby's message, which seems a foolish topic to pursue over text. ]

Let me know where to meet you.
powerhungry: (pic#17699395)

[personal profile] powerhungry 2025-03-20 09:41 pm (UTC)(link)
The library, then. In an hour, if it suits.
powerhungry: (pic#17699328)

→ 🎬

[personal profile] powerhungry 2025-03-22 02:22 am (UTC)(link)
[ Fifty minutes later, Silco stalks into the library, taking a minute of his allotted extra time to take a lap around the space — still not completely tidied after the events of the previous month — before zeroing in on the duck (not really difficult to notice, though he supposes that's half the point), and the mop of pink hair. ]

You must be Koby.

[ Spoken neutrally, the tenor of his voice balanced toward politeness.

His eyes, one sky-blue, the other molten orange, fall to the bird. An odd choice of pet — certainly more well-kept than any of the creatures he'd ever seen in the undercity — but perhaps fitting enough for one meant to be kept amongst a band of pirates.
]

And who's your feathered friend?
powerhungry: (pic#17695363)

[personal profile] powerhungry 2025-03-25 02:32 am (UTC)(link)
[ If Silco notices the amount of effort Koby's exerting, he doesn't make any outward note of it; the boy's nod gets one in return, as well as a wave of one hand to invite Koby to sit again as he takes a seat of his own. He's certainly different from Nami – both of them strike Silco as earnest (as clever, more importantly), but in distinctly separate tenors. Nami has her restaurant, a focal point for those she considers her crew, while Koby has a stockpile meant for all, a brochure for any new arrivals, regardless of who they are or where they've come from. And that's leaving aside the way Koby had stood upon his approach, a habit Silco knows comes strict discipline.

Smoothly, as he settles into a chair:
] The pleasure's all mine.

[ It's an easy tit for tat, matching Koby's energy as opposed to fully exerting his own while he's still getting the lay of the land. And as for the duck — he lays his hand out on the desk, palm up, not exactly extended forward but available should the creature take an interest. ]

Did she arrive here with you?

[ A useless question, maybe, but the notes are right there, and it's not like this line of inquiry is going to change Koby's mind one way or another. ]
powerhungry: (pic#17695281)

[personal profile] powerhungry 2025-03-27 09:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[ By contrast, there's a brightness to Koby that Silco knows doesn't necessarily mean ease when it comes to being able to read him and his intentions, but at least gives any observant party a general sense as to which way the wind is blowing. He already knows that he's being watched, that an introduction is just as much information-gathering as anything else — hardly a surprise, considering the cache of notes he's here to see. The only thing left is to ensure that anything that ends up in there about him is what he wants recorded.

Lincoln's attention relinquished, Silco's fingers curl back into his palm, turning over into a loosely-closed fist on the surface of the table.
]

I'm told there's always something, [ he says, voice lilting wryly up. He's already experienced the will of the house, having been thrown into the hunt, but that's neither here nor there in terms of what he's willing to share. ] A pumpkin hunt, I gather, is on the more benign side of the scale.

[ For better or worse, he has looked over the network, and an entire month of autopsy reports is hardly encouraging, especially in comparison to the somewhat more mindless messages that populate it otherwise. ]

Your notes — do you have a contingency in place in the event you're unable to contribute to your daily log, or is the fact that they're a personal recollection more the point?
powerhungry: (pic#17699474)

[personal profile] powerhungry 2025-03-30 10:39 pm (UTC)(link)
[ As Koby speaks, Silco's eyes fall to the stack of notes. They — along with the boy's answer — conveniently provide answers not just to what's been asked but beyond. More classified records; the suggestion that there are things worth hiding, whether from the house, nebulous entity that it is, or from anyone outside their little crew. The neatly collated notes, the carefully placed paperclips — it'd be too generous to say that Silco thinks of himself, but they're signs of a more analytical mind, of skills cultivated in place of purely physical strength. Granted, that's a surface-level take — there's always the chance that his notes will be utter gibberish, and all of Silco's speculation will be rendered moot.

Lightly, simply:
] Good.

[ Approval — another thread pulled through the loom. Easier to do when approval is so sought after. ]

Though let's hope it doesn't come to that.

[ He nods, then, at the pile by Koby's elbow, eyebrows rising slightly. ]

—And how classified are these?
powerhungry: (pic#17695333)

[personal profile] powerhungry 2025-04-02 01:53 am (UTC)(link)
[ As Koby reaches out with invisible fingers, what greets him is almost less an aura than it is a concentrated force — a jewel, what ought to be soft made solid and hard. The kind of blue that can be described as beautiful and cold at the same time, shot through with the sense of a wound scabbed over (or that never healed, like the orange eye set in scar tissue, unusually raw in comparison to the rest of him). It's an incursion that Silco can't sense, for better or worse — he sifts through the notes in front of him, none the wiser.

Still, the light tap of Koby's fingers is enough to get Silco to look up, his gaze — sharp, always sharp, no matter how he modulates the rest of his expression — meeting the young man's in an instant.
]

This is impressive work, Koby.

[ Another little sliver of praise, doled out in the only way Silco ever gives it — matter-of-fact, meant to be more significant for the fact that he never gives it idly. But it's as much an isolated thing as it is a treat, a sweet thing meant to cushion and soften the question he asks next, slow and light at the same time: ]

Who are you afraid might find this?
powerhungry: (pic#17695260)

[personal profile] powerhungry 2025-04-06 04:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ For all that Silco has no mental defenses, no abilities that attune him to the timbre of the room or the people within it, he still senses the cloud, the shadow that it casts over their conversation. But he doesn't look away, doesn't flinch.

(It's painful, that Koby cares so much. His earnestness pierces through his expression like sunlight through a gap in the clouds. He'd been like that once, too, hadn't he?)

There's an honest answer, here — that all people are capable of hurting each other, regardless of connection or intention. That's not, he expects, the answer that Koby really wants to hear, so he lets it go, a glint of light against the hard edges of his mind.
]

Jinx has grown quite fond of you — all of you, [ he begins, each word measured. ] That's my only concern.

[ For better or worse, that's honest, too; clear in a way that a simpering of course it doesn't isn't. And the implication is obvious enough — anyone who holds her favor holds his, or at least the impression of it, and anyone who'd dare to hurt her will answer to him. Unusually honest, for him, but it's an equivalent exchange, in his eyes, as well as a measure of gaining the boy's trust. ]

And besides, we guests all share the same plight. Best not to turn ourselves against each other.

[ For now. ]
powerhungry: (pic#17699408)

🎀

[personal profile] powerhungry 2025-04-12 07:49 pm (UTC)(link)
As am I.

[ No hard feelings, then, if push comes to shove, with an eye for an eye as an accepted ultimatum. Surprisingly cold terms, for a boy so pink, but better he learn how to properly navigate the world (to survive) now rather than later. That politeness — mister, sweet on his lips — won't mean too much, in the end.

He can't help that it makes him smile.
]

Thank you.

[ His gaze falls, finally, the thread breaking along with the heavy mood. The papers rustle slightly as his long fingers find their edges, nudging them all into alignment before he picks the entire pile off of the table, getting to his feet in the same motion. ]

I'll have these back to you on the morrow.