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[begot]

WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK

USERNAME
AMY

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text @stacy

[internship]

Hey, Amy! I have kind of a weird question. Or maybe not weird, but personal?

Do you have much experience with guys?

[begot]

hiya, gwen. 😊 not too weird, not too personal.

i have enough experience, i think. someone giving you trouble?

a dayish after the keychain delivery. @alphabet_soup | voice

[scathe]

[she says if you train me right, i won't ever have to worry about it and he smirks and tells her it's going to happen no matter what, in that low voice he likes to use when it's just them, but he doesn't break his promise and breaks her in everywhere else. amy sheds her skin for him, the first skin meant for the girls and parties elias won't ever be invited to, and meets him as best she can. he tells her how to wrap her hands and smacks her knuckles when done incorrectly the first few times. but those are the only times, and amy catches what he throws quick.

her agility is impressive, but he doesn't tell her that. he recognizes a darkness in her, an eating, and he doesn't tell her that, either.

elias throws the bag in the trash and tucks the note inside his journal. he holds the plush in the palm of his hand, fingers clutching around soft fur, and calls amy.

immediately:]

What the fuck is this.

[begot]

Hi, Elias.

[ Chipper, cheerful when they're off the clock. The nice voice she uses to talk to everyone else — that sits separate from the thing that burns in her chest when she gets a step wrong. And it helps, maybe, that she isn't looking to be told well done or good job, at least not in so many words. She understands it well enough when he decides it's time to move onto another exercise, when he stops rapping her knuckles after she wraps her hands. What matters is that he understands what she needs, which is a knife that isn't a knife, when everyone here is special, and her flesh bruises easily. ]

It's a keychain. For your water bottle, to help tell it apart. Or for your gym bag. Backpack. Wherever you want to put it.

[ A beat. ]

It reminded me of you.

@hyperion

[redeems]

I don't remember exchanging names, but I believe we met in a pseudo massage parlor-spa with the ironic name. If this is you, great. Hi. Long time. If this isn't you. Also hi. It's been never.

[begot]

[ After a moment, all the time necessary to go through the process of elimination— ]

decided not to go with "evil" as a handle after all?

@alphabet_soup

[scathe]

[before 3AM and after midnight:]

no session tomorrow

[begot]

[ She's dozing, when the message comes through. Awake enough to catch the flash of blue light from her phone screen on the nightstand, drowsy enough to consider leaving it until the morning before reaching carefully over Giles' warm, sleeping body to pick it up and thumb through to the message.

In private — with no one to see her — she frowns, both at the three words that stare back at her and at the brightness of the screen. It's not like Elias to cancel, and even less like him to reach out to her first.

She could leave it. Expects that Elias would prefer it, if she did.

A few minutes later: ]

everything okay?

text — un: princess grace

[rationalism]

[ to be quite honest, this may be the most luxurious gift she's ever been given in her life and amy is the beneficiary of a selfie of grace in the gym wearing the gym clothes amy gifted her. ]

you're a christmas angel

also the middle finger isn't directed at you, it's just the only picture in my new cute fit

[begot]

i try my best. 😇 you look hot! tolerating a middle finger feels like a fair price to pay.

sighs and steals your inbox – misfire @xAngelxEyesx

[scathe]

[attached: photo]

Hurry up and finish your breakfast so I can fuck you

👀

[begot]

[ Well.

That's certainly not the usual tenor of their conversations. She debates not opening the picture — out of fear of it being a dick pic in the traditional sense, bare as sin — but does it, anyway.

Well. ]

might want to check your naughty and nice lists again, santa claus.

text @stacy

[internship]

I don’t know about you, but this year is making top 5 most stressful holiday seasons for me. And my dad once left in the middle of Christmas dinner to stop an armed robbery at the Met.

[begot]

[ She thinks through the details she has before responding. Peter, maybe climbing the walls. Introducing the boyfriend to the not-not-boyfriend and his partners. Fairly volatile ingredients, all in all. ]

i guess i'll skip asking if everything's okay.
what happened?

🎁 delivery

[internship]

[ Delivered to Amy’s suite on Christmas Eve: a plastic-wrapped plate of assorted cookies (including a gingerbread girl with a blonde bob) and a cold mini-jug of milk, along with holiday stationery and stickers. ]

Thanks for being such a good friend to me, Amy.

Merry Christmas!
💙,
Gwen

delivery

[ripher]

[ A gift, on Christmas morning, in the form of a slim wrapped object (suspiciously book shaped) and a small linen drawstring bag. Inside the bag is a bottle of the massage oil that had warmed them during their first encounter, presumably bargained or traded for (or stolen) from the spa, since it hadn't been for sale.

The wrapped gift is a copy of Henry and June by Anaïs Nin, with an inscription on the front page in Giles' careful handwriting: ]

"Love reduces the complexity of living."

Amy —

I'm not sure if life here will ever be anything but complex, but I know that being with you makes everything seem easy. I see you in every line and on every page. Whatever happens, I can only be grateful to have met you and to have known you, and to have the chance to know you a little better.

Please believe that I am,
Yours always,
Rupert

🎁 delivery, 12/24

[angelhunter]

[ Left at her door deep in the night, right on the cusp of Christmas, a white silver-accented box tied with a pale blue ribbon. Tucked underneath the bow is a small bundle of daisies and forget-me-nots.

Inside, cushioned by tangles of raffia: A bath set whose lotions and oils share a base of rum and sandalwood, calmed and deepened by notes of vanilla, amaretto and honey. Scents that inspire in him the image of a warm, lazy evening. On either side of a bottle of foot massage oil are two bottles of nail polish, one clear and one the color of the nightgown she wore when he first saw her.

On top of it, a small card with a forget-me-not dried and pressed into the back. ]

The next time you've been on your feet all day, allow me to help you off them.

[ Larger than the text surrounding it. The cursive he took the greatest pleasure in penning. ] Merry Christmas, Amy.

— Hap

[begot]

[ Midway through Christmas Day, she sends a text — a thank you in so many words, accompanied by a photo of the live flowers in a neat glass vase and, visible in the background, the nightgown she'd worn when they'd first met, draped over the back of a chaise, a purposeful nod to the polish he'd chosen. Pleased, by the contents, by the message, by the colors. (Pale blue, her signature.)

Another message follows on the evening of the 31st — Happy New Year, Hap. Maybe I'll take you up on that offer, soon. ]

@alphabet_soup – post rescue / text

[scathe]

[after the rescue, elias didn't stick around. he faded into the background, distanced himself from gwen and the rest of the crew who came to amy's rescue. he'd looked at it as another heist instead of another hostage. he'd looked at amy with the distant gaze of someone who's there for business, swept over her body for assurance of nothing fatal and moved to cut the ties from her wrists. if he looked at her in any other sense, he would've taken too long. would have seen too much in her eyes.]

Can I see you

[far from his usual statements of saying one thing and following through with it immediately, he hates asking for permission. but she's been violated, taken, and he can relate to that more than she'll ever realize.]

[begot]

[ He doesn't stick around, and in fairness, Amy doesn't really expect him to. He isn't the fawning type, and the significant thing is the effort — the fact that he helped look for her without being asked. The text surprises her more. Still, she responds immediately, never one to let a text or a call go unanswered, even now. ]

of course.

[ She looks from her phone to the book in her lap, to Rupert, dozing in bed. ]

i'm going to get some water.
walk me to the kitchen?

[ Walk me rather than meet me, when she's still a little leery of going anywhere alone. ]

@stacy

[internship]

Hey, Amy. Don’t feel like you have to respond to this, since I bet you’re inundated right now.

But if you need anything, I’m happy to help. Snacks, tea, bad romance novels, company.

Get some rest, okay?

[begot]

hi, gwen. 🙂 it's okay, i'm glad to hear from you.
i'm sorry you got mixed up in this. are you alright?

[ You're still a teenager, still just a kid, is what she thinks, though she doesn't type it out. She remembers what Gwen's said about home, about the extraordinary circumstances she's already been through. ]

i wouldn't mind any of the above.
rupert has visitors coming in the afternoon, i can slip out for a minute then.

@starr

[unfazeable]

Hello, Amy. This is Ava Starr. Came with Bob, yesterday.

[how else to put it.]

Thought I'd check in, but don't worry about replying if you're busy getting sorted out, still. The doc patch you two up all right? How's your fella?

[begot]

hi, ava.

[ She remembers — of course she remembers, when Ava had phased through the door. ]

i'm alright. rupert's on the mend, but we're taking things slowly.

and i'm sorry, i meant to reach out soon to say thank you. if you hadn't gotten to us when you did

[ The message splits, like it's too much for her to think about. She swerves, rather than follow the thought through to its implied conclusion. ]

you were amazing. i've never seen anything like that before.
i'm sure you hear that a lot.

@wycaro

[wycaros]

Hey.
Just wanted to check in and see how you're doing after everything.

[ a long pause, before: ] It's Carol by the way.

[ still not used to doing that when the hivemind always knows who's contacting them. ]

[begot]

carol! hi!
thanks for reaching out — i'd have done it myself, but
well, you know. it's been a busy month.

i'm doing alright. trying not to get scared by my own reflection in the mirror.
what about you? have you been adjusting alright?

[ actually, one more q— ]

wy carol?

@angel

[redeems]

I owe you an apology. And more.

That monster that took you isn't me. He had no soul. What he did wasn't okay. If I can make it up to you, I will.

[begot]

[ It doesn't surprise her, exactly, when she's already heard from one man who's returned from the dead, but— it'd be a stretch to say that the message is particularly welcome.

In the middle of the hall, she turns it over in her head, wonders if there's anything in the text worth believing. For the moment, she doesn't respond, doesn't click on her read receipts. Maybe later. ]

@SET — TEXT

[redsoil]

I really enjoyed how you became an accessory piece to everyone else's angst and turmoil.
It was not insulting or degrading at all.

[ ]

[begot]

[ On the one hand: he's right. Even more so in the aftermath, as she's felt more and more like chaff. On the other: nobody talks to her like that. ]

do i know you?

@stacy

[internship]

Have you ever celebrated Galentine's Day?

[begot]

i haven't, actually!

[ On account of having moved to Missouri around when it first became more widely popular ... ]

have you?

@molloy

[molloys]

[late night, having finally read and watched back through the more recent network sagas and realized oh shit thats my fantasy survivor buddy--]

That Angelus fucker give you any more trouble?
Scuse my french.

[begot]

t'inquiète.

he's back, but
i think rupert scared him off.
i hope he did, anyway.

thanks for asking.

✉️ — 💐.

[sensive]

[ a week or so after she sends the card, amy will receive a bouquet of obviously hand-picked, not-at-all professionally arranged flowers, and a folded letter. ]

Hey Amy,

I wanted to write you back since you took the time to do a real card, and you’re the one who had to go through all that.

I know Giles has his super teen army, but if you ever want your own super army, I can show up and get a nice card for it, while people like you are actually being brave. (Happy to help anytime, though, seriously.)

Get well soon.

PS — Your handwriting is crazy neat. Printer quality stuff.

Rob—
Bob

[begot]

[ Later in the day, a text pops up on Bob's phone, accompanied by a photo of the flowers put into a vase — kept, very carefully and purposefully, in the arrangement in which they'd arrived. ]

if a card's the going rate for a super army, then you're getting lowballed. 😱
lucky for you, i'm happy to provide both cards and help negotiating.

but, genuinely, thanks again.
hopefully the next time i see you isn't under such dire circumstances.