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WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK
USERNAME
AMY
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WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK
USERNAME
AMY
text π audio π video
[ Gwen's never really thought about how easy it is for her to navigate her older coworkers and supervisors--or maybe easy isn't the word, but she understands how it works. Knows she has to work harder to be taken seriously, knows there's often resentment. Even the weirdness with Elias is, she thinks, at least in part because of her age. He's not taking her seriously, either.
But she's not used to having older girlfriends. Greer was the first, and that's its own exciting tangle of new feelings. With Amy... Gwen's touched she's being treated like an equal, really. That's not a given, even in a place like this.
She has the tea in a takeaway tray, so she manages a half-hug back without spilling. ]
No, I totally understand. [ Gwen pulls Amy's cup out first, pressing it into her hands. ]
Thanks for trusting me. [ Earnest, serious. ] I know it's...weird, to be surrounded by strangers here. But I do think of you as a friend.
But she's not used to having older girlfriends. Greer was the first, and that's its own exciting tangle of new feelings. With Amy... Gwen's touched she's being treated like an equal, really. That's not a given, even in a place like this.
She has the tea in a takeaway tray, so she manages a half-hug back without spilling. ]
No, I totally understand. [ Gwen pulls Amy's cup out first, pressing it into her hands. ]
Thanks for trusting me. [ Earnest, serious. ] I know it's...weird, to be surrounded by strangers here. But I do think of you as a friend.
[ I guess it's okay. A little victory, a small concession. A huff of breath sounds from the other end of the line β not a laugh, but a smile. (Important to convey, even if he can't see it.) He'll keep it, then. It's cuter, almost, that it'll live somewhere in his room β presumably β than on his water bottle or on a bag. ]
I'm glad.
[ The kind of response typically given to a more enthusiastic I love it or this is great! Amy-speak, polished and perfect. One concession in exchange for another, when, even at rest, he projects a kind of energy that could cut glass. (Like a wild animal. Maybe he'd known the warmth of a home, once. But nowβ well, he doesn't know how to fight like that for no reason.) ]
You'll have to tell me more about what you like. [ Have to as in an ask, not a command. ] Not now, necessarily, butβ eventually.
I'm glad.
[ The kind of response typically given to a more enthusiastic I love it or this is great! Amy-speak, polished and perfect. One concession in exchange for another, when, even at rest, he projects a kind of energy that could cut glass. (Like a wild animal. Maybe he'd known the warmth of a home, once. But nowβ well, he doesn't know how to fight like that for no reason.) ]
You'll have to tell me more about what you like. [ Have to as in an ask, not a command. ] Not now, necessarily, butβ eventually.
[ Amy, on the other hand, can't really say she'd ever gone out of her way to makes friends outside of her peer group β when was the last time she'd talked to a teenager before this? But age is less of a factor, here β except for the grown men fucking girls young enough to be their daughters, judgment she'll pass in private β and Gwen is sweet, smart, old and young in varying measure. Someone people would like. Soβ ]
Oh, Gwen. [ Amy's voice wobbles on the vowel in Gwen's name. ] Me, too.
[ She takes the proffered cup gladly, nudging the door to her room closed before nodding toward the sofa. ]
I was an only child, [ she says, as she takes her own seat, tucking one leg underneath her. ] But β I always wanted a sister. I guess that's part of why Iβ
[ The words break into a shaky laugh β like she thinks she's being silly, like she's feeling a little more vulnerable than usual because of what they're about to talk about. ]
Thank you for listening. I, um β you're sure it's okay? I know it'sβ it's not really a fun story.
Oh, Gwen. [ Amy's voice wobbles on the vowel in Gwen's name. ] Me, too.
[ She takes the proffered cup gladly, nudging the door to her room closed before nodding toward the sofa. ]
I was an only child, [ she says, as she takes her own seat, tucking one leg underneath her. ] But β I always wanted a sister. I guess that's part of why Iβ
[ The words break into a shaky laugh β like she thinks she's being silly, like she's feeling a little more vulnerable than usual because of what they're about to talk about. ]
Thank you for listening. I, um β you're sure it's okay? I know it'sβ it's not really a fun story.
[he's out of his element and amy is in hers. every genuine ask is a suspicious mark, a blotted mess in his head. roza had told him the people here are different, that their empathy and sympathy were real, but she trusts differently than he does. elias prickles where amy opens, with her breathy laugh being carried through the studio like she was made for vacation houses and hor d'oeuvres while he was made for shady deals and holding a gun to someone's forehead.]
Ah, you don't gotta know about me. [he says this dismissively with an upward quirk of his lips, waving the attention in another direction. the tension between them has de-escalated, tipping into more casual waters.] You good for tomorrow?
Ah, you don't gotta know about me. [he says this dismissively with an upward quirk of his lips, waving the attention in another direction. the tension between them has de-escalated, tipping into more casual waters.] You good for tomorrow?
[ Gwen sits beside Amy on the sofa, hands warmed on her own cup of tea, knees turned toward her so she can really listen. A small quiver of a smile, feeling the effect of Amy's tenderness between them. ]
I have two younger brothers. I love them, but-- I always wanted an older sister, growing up.
[ Gwen shakes her head quickly, at the question. ]
I promise it's okay. Whatever you're comfortable sharing, I'm happy to listen.
I have two younger brothers. I love them, but-- I always wanted an older sister, growing up.
[ Gwen shakes her head quickly, at the question. ]
I promise it's okay. Whatever you're comfortable sharing, I'm happy to listen.
[ I always wanted an older sister. Light, for a moment, in Amy's eyes. Gladness.
It doesn't disappear, not completely, when she twists, resting one elbow on the back of the seat, her hand hanging down, just waiting to be called into articulating motion. ]
Isβ is Peter your first boyfriend?
[ She sounds a little apologetic, quickly clarifying, ] Have you ever broken up with a boyfriend before?
It doesn't disappear, not completely, when she twists, resting one elbow on the back of the seat, her hand hanging down, just waiting to be called into articulating motion. ]
Isβ is Peter your first boyfriend?
[ She sounds a little apologetic, quickly clarifying, ] Have you ever broken up with a boyfriend before?
[ Gwen takes a sip of her tea, considering. ]
Peter's my first serious boyfriend. I broke up with my middle school boyfriend freshman year, but-- [ That particular gap in experience does embarrass her, just a little, the tip of her nose going pink. ] Definitely not the same.
Peter's my first serious boyfriend. I broke up with my middle school boyfriend freshman year, but-- [ That particular gap in experience does embarrass her, just a little, the tip of her nose going pink. ] Definitely not the same.
[ The moment breaks.
She's sort of used to this, now. Training is one thing β they both have a clear objective, which makes things easier β but socializing is another entirely. When his arsenal gets pared down to conversation, it's like turning the handle of a jack-in-the-box. If she's not careful, the gears will spring, and she doesn't particularly want that. She likes the box, neat and closed; prefers not to get giggled at by the thing inside.
Not that he's a jack, not really. Faulty metaphor, maybe. ]
Yep!
[ A pop on the closing consonant. (He gets off easy, when she considers answering with don't you want to know about me?) ]
I'll see you bright and early.
She's sort of used to this, now. Training is one thing β they both have a clear objective, which makes things easier β but socializing is another entirely. When his arsenal gets pared down to conversation, it's like turning the handle of a jack-in-the-box. If she's not careful, the gears will spring, and she doesn't particularly want that. She likes the box, neat and closed; prefers not to get giggled at by the thing inside.
Not that he's a jack, not really. Faulty metaphor, maybe. ]
Yep!
[ A pop on the closing consonant. (He gets off easy, when she considers answering with don't you want to know about me?) ]
I'll see you bright and early.
Alright, Amy.
[a beat. silence long enough to think he may have ended the call, but elias doesn't forget things as simple as cutting the line off, and the build of a new peculiar tension rises.]
You're favoring your left side. Don't bullshit me if you need an extra day.
[abruptly and before he can say anything else, he hangs up.]
[a beat. silence long enough to think he may have ended the call, but elias doesn't forget things as simple as cutting the line off, and the build of a new peculiar tension rises.]
You're favoring your left side. Don't bullshit me if you need an extra day.
[abruptly and before he can say anything else, he hangs up.]
Edited 2025-12-02 05:51 (UTC)
Then I hope you'll never have to know the feeling I'm about to describe to you.
[ Frank and earnest β not at all judgmental of Gwen's inexperience, instead glad that she has someone she cares for and who cares for her in turn, that she hasn't been hurt this badly before. ]
It was good, for a while. But I guess I was ... standing on an ice floe. When I couldn't see the edges of it, life was beautiful. But every day, it was melting a little bit. He saw me less and less. Nick. Heβ
[ Amy pauses, her gaze falling to the cup in her hands. ]
We moved to take care of his mom. Do you know, he never even asked me what I thought? Of course I'd go with him, butβ I wanted him to ask. To care about what I thought. I even used the last of my savings to buy him a bar. But he still didn't really see me. And, away from my family, my friends, the place I'd grown up, I felt like I was just getting smaller and smaller and smaller. Like I was disappearing.
[ Here, she looks back up, her blue eyes red-rimmed. The perfect picture of sadness, of a woman made so small when her presence here in this house β away from him β is warm, lively, vibrant. ]
I wanted to work on it. On us. But when I tried to talk to himβ [ her voice breaks as she elides the point β he put his hands on me ] βI hit my head so hard, I could see stars. And I could see it in his eyes, that heβ
[ The tears that well in her eyes finally spill over, and her breath stutters. She seems as scared, now, recollecting what had happened, as she must have been in that moment. ]
βhe wanted to hurt me more.
[ Frank and earnest β not at all judgmental of Gwen's inexperience, instead glad that she has someone she cares for and who cares for her in turn, that she hasn't been hurt this badly before. ]
It was good, for a while. But I guess I was ... standing on an ice floe. When I couldn't see the edges of it, life was beautiful. But every day, it was melting a little bit. He saw me less and less. Nick. Heβ
[ Amy pauses, her gaze falling to the cup in her hands. ]
We moved to take care of his mom. Do you know, he never even asked me what I thought? Of course I'd go with him, butβ I wanted him to ask. To care about what I thought. I even used the last of my savings to buy him a bar. But he still didn't really see me. And, away from my family, my friends, the place I'd grown up, I felt like I was just getting smaller and smaller and smaller. Like I was disappearing.
[ Here, she looks back up, her blue eyes red-rimmed. The perfect picture of sadness, of a woman made so small when her presence here in this house β away from him β is warm, lively, vibrant. ]
I wanted to work on it. On us. But when I tried to talk to himβ [ her voice breaks as she elides the point β he put his hands on me ] βI hit my head so hard, I could see stars. And I could see it in his eyes, that heβ
[ The tears that well in her eyes finally spill over, and her breath stutters. She seems as scared, now, recollecting what had happened, as she must have been in that moment. ]
βhe wanted to hurt me more.
[ 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 β with no one to see her β 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?
In private β with no one to see her β 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?
[amy keeps doing shit he doesn't like, such as checking in for an unusual check out at an hour he doesn't expect anyone to be awake. he's groggy, standing on isolde's 'side' of the bathroom and leaning against the doorframe with his breath held in his throat, anticipating. she woke him or he woke her. or potentially some other third option where their stress caught between the walls and pulled the noose tight around their necks.
the question is: will she calm down, will the fear dissipate and the sleep drift back peacefully? the bathroom door is closed and he's listening for more than silence when the text buzzes his phone.
no everything is not okay. elias is hardly ever on the side of okay that regulates and normalizes, but he'll push through. pain ends, bad dreams end and bruises heal. some don't see the world how he sees it and pain is everything forever and dreams stick like rotting milk. he thinks isolde's dreams are like drowning in sick waters.]
why tf are you awake?
the question is: will she calm down, will the fear dissipate and the sleep drift back peacefully? the bathroom door is closed and he's listening for more than silence when the text buzzes his phone.
no everything is not okay. elias is hardly ever on the side of okay that regulates and normalizes, but he'll push through. pain ends, bad dreams end and bruises heal. some don't see the world how he sees it and pain is everything forever and dreams stick like rotting milk. he thinks isolde's dreams are like drowning in sick waters.]
why tf are you awake?
Edited 2025-12-03 00:04 (UTC)
[ Almost instantly, she regrets having picked up her phone at all. Her teeth dig into the inner flesh of her cheek, forcefully grinding down the sharper edges of the words that come to mind, and rolls over, pressing her back to Giles' side (considers going back to sleep, or waking him, smoothing out the cords of tension she feels with his mouth, his hands β and lets go of both options, for now).
She gets a little bit of leeway, she thinks, from the early hour. Room not to be so nice. But she's not a fucking quitter, and she's never been one to take the easy way out. ]
i'm a light sleeper. π
[ Not quite a truth, not quite a lie β just enough couching to make what follows a little less curt when they're stepping outside of the boundary set by the roles of trainer and trainee: ]
why are you awake?
She gets a little bit of leeway, she thinks, from the early hour. Room not to be so nice. But she's not a fucking quitter, and she's never been one to take the easy way out. ]
i'm a light sleeper. π
[ Not quite a truth, not quite a lie β just enough couching to make what follows a little less curt when they're stepping outside of the boundary set by the roles of trainer and trainee: ]
why are you awake?
[oh. huh. she wants to play the back and forth. amy gets moody and he'll return it tenfold. this isn't an equal exchange and he isn't one of those guys to play nice, he will always take the low road.]
looks like we have that in common
[bubbles appear and he types and deletes, types and deletes. minutes go by and he swallows, his free hand gripping the doorknob. he has choices, 'a' or 'b', and a flash of outcomes speed through his mind so lightning-quick he has to pull his hand from the door. do not enter. do not involve yourself in someone else's bullshit when amy is in yours.]
what the fuck do you want Amy?
looks like we have that in common
[bubbles appear and he types and deletes, types and deletes. minutes go by and he swallows, his free hand gripping the doorknob. he has choices, 'a' or 'b', and a flash of outcomes speed through his mind so lightning-quick he has to pull his hand from the door. do not enter. do not involve yourself in someone else's bullshit when amy is in yours.]
what the fuck do you want Amy?
[ There's something strange in the amount of time it takes for his response to come through and the text that actually appears on her phone. By her reading, what the fuck do you want, meant aggressively, is an instant response. To go through a few rough drafts, as indicated by the ellipses that come and go on her screen, isn't not aggressive, but it comes with the suggestion of a thornier thought process.
The question is what to make of it. ]
i wanted to make sure no one had caved your head in.
[ More mundane answers creep in to fill the void. Maybe he's just drunk, maybe he's stalking out of someone else's room. Not everything here is magic, after all. She squints at her phone, annoyance fizzling into something duller. ]
don't swear at me again.
The question is what to make of it. ]
i wanted to make sure no one had caved your head in.
[ More mundane answers creep in to fill the void. Maybe he's just drunk, maybe he's stalking out of someone else's room. Not everything here is magic, after all. She squints at her phone, annoyance fizzling into something duller. ]
don't swear at me again.
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