saltburnt inbox 2.0

[rehandle]

WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK

USERNAME: itsakindofmagic

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[rehandle]

Ok. Thank you. I'll be in touch if I find anything related.

[ Then, remembering where this started - ]

Koby was going have Set give me a copy of his notes, if anything happened. He and I were collaborating. Would you honor that? [ Now they're both gone. ] I can show you the message if you need proof.

[holyposition]

It's mostly public information and his theories about the poisoning. He wrote in them that you already know.

[rehandle]

Tim. I won't make you copy it out, or give it away, but I'd like to see them. Do you have time later this afternoon?

[ Koby had felt the need to let him know they existed, that the information in them might help if he wasn't around to give it himself. Stephen doesn't need the copy - he'll memorise it. ]

Please.

[holyposition]

[ There's a pause. Taking a breath to just calm down, to clutch Koby's notebook closer to his chest, fight the kneejerk, emotional urge to keep this small part of him for himself. Koby's always extended himself too far.

Eventually, the pause is to ask Harry and Quentin if they mind company. ]

You can come see them, but they don't leave.

[rehandle]

Thank you. I'll be by when I'm done here.

[ Here unspecified, but inevitably grisly. It's uncomfortable, but not unusual, to find himself comparatively steady in the eye of everyone else's grief - spared the worst of it by virtue of having so few close ties to break. ]