A responsibility, then. [Again, one that Koby had taken on fully of his own accord, but still. His whole thing is guiding people safely on voyages, which is very hard to do when people like Ed are messing with compasses and maps. Still, the rum is a peace offering, and Koby settles into his seat, intrigued in spite of himself.

He arches both eyebrows, surprised.] A project. A creative project. [He only sounds a little incredulous, actually, absently .] That's...new. Right? I feel like I would've hear about that earlier if that was a "thing" for you.

[Koby sits on the edge of one of the many chairs scattered about, like he's perpetually expecting a host of people to come by for dinner.] How's it going? The...writing thing.