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[ailerons]

WELCOME TO THE SALTBURNT NETWORK

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 hangman

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✉️ text — un: silco.

[powerhungry]

I'm leaving Hawk in charge of the club for the weekend. I'm trusting you and Wanda to support him, and keep operations afloat.

Nobody else needs to know I'm not there. Tell anyone who asks that I have other business to attend to.

[ailerons]

[ A short series of dots, appearing and disappearing. Then: ]

Got it
That all I need to know?

[powerhungry]

[ No is the true answer. No, not really. But he can't bring himself to type out anything honest — and the reason why he's gone will make itself evident soon, besides. ]

That's all.
Thank you.

[ailerons]

[ The long and short of it: Dismissed. Sure, it's been a while since Jake's had to think long and hard about falling in line to the brass, the half-assed decisions he agrees with and the half he doesn't. But this damn sure isn't the Navy. And you damn well know the measure of a man, once you've seen where he comes from. So: ]

Security report for the weekend'll be on your desk by the time you come back in
Don't be a stranger, old timer

[powerhungry]

[ He never quite knows what to make of this — the familiarity, not really overfamiliarity when they've both seen parts of each other that at least Silco would rather keep hidden and buried. Sometimes, he thinks he yearns for it. Some echo of what he'd shared with Vander and Felicia. Understanding without a full excavation or a runway. (He wants it even more, now — now that he's alone.)

He stares at his screen, at the words don't be a stranger. He ought to say something — but thank yous don't come easily to him, and he's already offered his gratitude once.

Instead, a little pathetically, but sent and closed before he can think too hard about it: ]

👍🏻