No? Why not? [Interesting – the accent isn’t like the ones Koby’s heard thus far, lilting and nearly musical in a way that reminds him of different seas, different islands. At this point, though, he anticipates that anyone he meets is from a similar world to the one Saltburnt dwells in – an Earth, with continents and history and governments very unlike the ones he knows. The languidly lounging blond man must be from one of said continents (not America, which seems overwhelmingly popular).

Tucking the front flap of the dust jacket into the pages to save his spot, Koby sits up a little straighter, shifting so he’s cross-legged, book in his lap.] He was, overwhelmingly, but – not by everyone. His security seems alarmingly lax, too, especially so soon after a war. [Koby thinks he probably could’ve done a better job. He could’ve saved Lincoln and earned his eternal gratitude and then they would’ve become best friends and...]

Ah, no. We have the World Government and the Marines and then various pirate Warlords and Emperors and things. Nothing democratically elected, really. [He drums his fingers on the book for a moment, thoughtfully.] Democracy seems to have…pros and cons to it.