saltburnt inbox 2.0

[rehandle]

WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK

USERNAME: itsakindofmagic

text ❖ audio ❖ video

Comments

[nightsung]

Well done. I'll have to make this harder on you, next time. Maybe add in a scavenger hunt.

[rehandle]

At least you can rest assured I'll always overcomplicate it.

[ But now that he knows what it is, and that it's currently not empty... ]

You mentioned a prize.

[nightsung]

Can I ask you a question, first?

[rehandle]

You can.

[nightsung]

Did you keep anything from June? For personal use, or otherwise.

[rehandle]

[ And so drops the other shoe. ]

I didn't think to throw anything away.

[nightsung]

[ You can do better than that, Stephen. ]

I would have been disappointed, if you had. And not only because the gold ones are worth a decent sum.

and now for some tonal whiplash

[rehandle]

[ ]

I'd offer to share, but unfortunately I think the box might be buried under the rubble of a blazing housefire.

lmaooo

[nightsung]

I won't be surprised if they make their way to you eventually.

Would you like your prize?

[rehandle]

Please.

[nightsung]

[ Even buttoned fully, the waistcoat's a touch big on her, in the photo she sends: lying on her side on the cashmere sleeping bag in her and Buffy's tent, cheek propped on her hand. Her position and the deep vee means Stephen gets an eyeful of plush cleavage. You're welcome, Dr. Strange. ]

Does it suit me?

[rehandle]

[ Give him a second to sit, take her in, and marvel over his luck. ]

Very much.

In fact, I think you should keep it. At least until I get back our box of tricks. We could make an exchange.

[nightsung]

That seems reasonable to me.

And the tie?

[ In the second photo, Shadowheart isn't wearing the waistcoat anymore. Just his tie, cinched around the center of her breasts to cover her nipples (barely, a hint of dusky pink peeking through) and not much else. ]

1/??

[rehandle]

[ Holy shit. ]

2/4

[rehandle]

[ Holy shit?? ]

3/4

[rehandle]

[ Come on, Strange, lock in. You've got to contribute something. ]

okay we're done

[rehandle]

You've got it working too hard. I'd appreciate some evidence of its prompt removal.

[nightsung]

You know, I've gotten it all twisted up. I might need a hand.

[rehandle]

Anything for my poor lost tie.

[nightsung]

It still smells like you.

And it's also still covered in pink glitter. Which means I am, too.

[rehandle]

Where are you?

[ He could find her in a second. Tear open a portal and be there, the secrets and the sweat they've shared over the last two months more than enough to make it easy, make it thoughtless—

Instead he asks. And he waits. ]

[nightsung]

[ Luckily for Stephen, she only makes him wait a few minutes. ]

My tent. Buffy's out, though I'm not sure for how long.