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Sage had his work cut out for him, keeping Lyra close enough to keep an eye on, and safe enough, while still letting her hop around and help with the gardens in any way she could. Really, she wasn't all that much help....she did more playing than anything... But he just liked the time spent with her. She really was so precious, and he enjoyed watching her hop about and attempt to help tear up weeds with her still chubby hands even if she wasn't exactly one hundred percent helping the situation. He worked through the plants himself, chatting with Lyra as she moved about, a grin on his face as they moved together. One of these days she'd be old enough to actually work, but for now, he enjoyed the playful nature that she held. It reminded him of Jora, really....how she could do something but still keep up a friendly chatter. Of course, Jora also enjoyed working quietly sometimes, and Lyra wasn't quite there yet....but that didn't matter. He enjoyed hearing her voice, seeing the fire in her eyes. It was special. So, so special. |
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Jora lingered at the doorway for a while, arms folded loosely as she watched the two of them in the garden. Lyra’s little squeals of triumph every time she thought she’d pulled a “monster weed” free made Jora’s chest ache in the best way. She wasn’t really helping—Jora could see that plain as day—but Sage didn’t mind, and that made Jora love him all the more. The patience in him, the easy grin he wore as he listened to their daughter chatter on, was something she treasured. She remembered when their own lives had been nothing but survival, filled with noise of a different kind—clashing, fighting, running. To see Sage crouched in the dirt, shoulders loose and laughter in his voice, was almost surreal. And Lyra…their little girl had brought out a softness in him Jora doubted he’d shown to anyone else before. She stepped out finally, moving quietly across the garden path until she was close enough to catch Sage’s eye. The look he gave her then—open, warm, full of quiet joy—made her heart flutter. Lyra was still babbling proudly about her “bug hunt,” and Jora crouched to brush soil from her daughter’s cheek, smiling at them both. “This is the good kind of work,” she murmured, gaze flicking from the dirt-stained plants to the dirt-stained hands that held their little family together. |
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Sage hadn't sensed Jora there at first, only noticing her when she moved on closer. When he did see her though, he gave a a grin before Lyra was showing him another weed or pointing at a cool looking bug and he had to look back at the little girl and voice his own positive opinions about whatever it was that was being shown to him. He did scoot over a bit so Jora could crouch down beside him and reach for Lyra, chuckling softly in response to her comment. "It's much better than what we had to do before," he agreed softly, sort of shifting so their sides brushed together gently as they sat there. He was muddy so he didn't really want to hug Jora or anything. ..he doubted she would appreciate him getting her all dirty at this point, but just relaxing next to her was perfectly fine, in his opinion. It was a nice day out, warm and sunny with just a bit of breeze. He could smell the ocean, feel the breeze in his hair. It was all just so....peaceful. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to it. He liked it, of course, but there was part of it that would always seem new. He rather liked it that way. He hoped he never got used to this. Too bored to enjoy it. It was all so special. |
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Jora eased down beside him, her knees sinking slightly into the soft earth as she smiled at the sight before her—Sage, half-covered in dirt and sunlight, and Lyra beaming proudly over a crooked weed clutched in her tiny hand. The whole scene felt so alive, so steady in a way she still wasn’t used to. When Sage’s shoulder brushed hers, she leaned subtly into him, content with that small contact. She didn’t mind the mud nearly as much as he seemed to think she would—honestly, it made him look endearingly human, far from the hardened man she’d first crossed paths with years ago. Her gaze lingered on him for a heartbeat longer before turning toward the garden. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” she murmured, her tone soft but full of meaning. “How this kind of quiet can feel so… fragile. Like if we blink too long, it might vanish.” Her hand absently brushed some dirt from Lyra’s sleeve as she spoke. “But it’s good. It’s ours.” A warm breeze rolled past, carrying the scent of salt and green things, and she let herself breathe it in, slow and deep. Peace still felt foreign on her tongue, but sitting there—with Sage’s warmth beside her and Lyra’s laughter filling the air—it didn’t feel impossible anymore. She reached over to nudge his arm lightly, a small, knowing smile curving her lips. “Maybe getting used to it isn’t such a bad thing.” |
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(sorry school has been absolutely crazy recently ToT) Sage had continued working on the garden as jora sunk down beside him, smiling softly as she reached over to brush dirt off of their daughter. He hummed softly in agreement as she spoke, turning her words over in his mind. He felt the same way ....and shed know that. He'd felt that way for a while. Of course, he was settling in just fine to this life. It was wonderful. But it did sometimes feel like a dream. Like it would end soon, and he'd wake up back on his ship, where he'd started from. "It does seem surreal sometimes," he agreed softly, sort of looking up from the dirt of glance around their yard, at their home. This island they'd made their own. When she nudged him, he chuckled softly with a nod, moving to wrap his arm around her side gently, still working at the garden with his free hand. "I suppose not," he agreed. 'But I don't want to get too used to it. I don't want to loose appreciation for what we've built here," he added. There was something so good here ....and he wanted to appreciate it for as long as he could. As long as he had here. |
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Jora let out a soft, thoughtful sigh, leaning a little more into him as his arm settled around her. She could feel the weight behind his words, the quiet vulnerability that sometimes peeked through beneath his easygoing exterior. He feels it the same way I do, she realized, and it made the warmth in her chest bloom a little stronger. “You don’t have to worry about that,” she murmured, her hand brushing over his, grounding him in the moment. “We won’t lose it. Not if we keep noticing it, keep cherishing it like this.” Her eyes drifted over the little garden, over Lyra chasing after a rogue bug, and then back to him. “It’s fragile, yes… but it’s ours. Every bit of it. And I don’t want to take a single moment for granted either.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his shoulder, letting herself smile softly against him. “As long as we’re here, together, it’s real. And I… I want to hold onto it, every day.” |
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Sage hummed softly as jora spoke. Her words made sense, he supposed....they would just make sure to always cherish what they had. He knew he'd never be able to just take it for granted. At least, he couldn't imagine doing so. "You're right," he hummed softly, moving to just wrap an arm around her and lean in happily. "There's something special about all of this. Something I don't think I'll ever fully get used to," he agreed. "But that's what makes it so special," he added, gaze locked on Lyra as she ran around wildly. He smiled at her kiss, tilting his head to peck hers lightly, tightening his grip on her slightly. "Me too," he noted softly, a content sigh falling past his lips. |
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Jora melted easily into his side, her hand coming to rest over his arm as his warmth settled around her. The steadiness of him, the quiet way he held her like she was something worth protecting—it never failed to steady her in return. Her gaze followed his to Lyra, who was currently attempting to convince a beetle to climb a stick, her laughter bright against the hum of the wind and waves beyond the garden. “Then we’ll never let it stop feeling special,” Jora murmured, voice soft but certain. She turned her head slightly to look at him, her expression open and full of quiet affection. “We’ve lived through enough chaos to know peace is something we have to fight to keep, in our own way.” Her thumb brushed absently along his forearm, a small, loving motion. “And if it ever starts feeling ordinary,” she added with a faint, teasing smile, “I’ll just remind you how lucky we are.” For a long moment, she simply sat there—pressed close, listening to the sea and their daughter’s laughter, feeling the gentle rhythm of Sage’s breathing beside her. It was simple. It was quiet. And it was everything she’d ever wanted but never thought she’d have. |
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(we need more drama lol. Any ideas? We could throw them into the fire again or we could always start up something new. Up to you! I just feel like it's been a lot of the same stuff for a while now haha) |
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(I have some ideas... 1. “Old ghosts wash ashore.”
someone (or something) from their past — maybe a shipwreck survivor, an old crewmate, or even a rival — turns up on the island. they could bring news, danger, or even just memories that stir everything up again. it’d test how stable jora and sage’s peace really is. 2. “The island stops feeling safe.”
they start noticing small things off — animals acting strange, plants dying, weird lights at night, storms that shouldn’t be happening. it builds tension, slowly threatening the quiet life they’ve made. 3. “Lyra gets caught in the middle.”
not in a tragic way necessarily, but maybe she wanders off and finds something — a hidden cave, a washed-up relic, a map, or even an injured stranger. it’d force jora and sage to face danger again but with the stakes higher now that she’s old enough to understand fear. 4. “Conflict between them.”
they’ve been united for so long, but maybe something tests their trust. sage could want to leave the island for a while; jora might want to stay. or maybe he hides something from her — a secret from before they reunited — and it comes out. 5. “Nature vs. survival (round two).”
a natural disaster — hurricane, fire, or earthquake — could hit the island. they’d have to protect what they’ve built, rebuild after, and maybe even run into other survivors nearby who complicate things. 6. “A visitor who knows too much.”
someone shows up claiming to know jora or sage, or holding information about them — could be a manipulative figure, an old friend, or even someone pretending. gives room for trust/doubt, tension, and secrets unraveling.) |
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Heavy Snow, Limited Visibility
