*backdated to the Febuary 26*

[lt_blade]

 When Sonya first arrived here, she couldn't spend enough time outside. It wasn't just about no longer looking pale, but after spending weeks in  a cell and in a place were it never got lighter than dusk, she felt she could never get used to seeing actual sunlight, or greenery or a blue sky. Still, the compound offered a sense of familiarity, as plain as it was and as annoying the clothing and jukebox were, it was similar to the barracks she was used to, and familiarity kept people sane-which Sonya at the time was in desperate need of.

But with Joe's disappearance and the holiday season, the compound started to seem claustrophobic even for her: it seemed that a change in atmosphere was what she needed-even if it was just in a hut instead of a different state or country. Then the psycho came and she needed six weeks before she could move because there was no way she could move her things with a broken arm. But now, she's healed, found a place, and after several days she's finally moved in. It wasn't fancy by any means, only furnished with a bed that needed airing, the trunk containing her weapons and books, and her clothes, but she was in the process of trading for a table, and on her way to really making it hers.

Currently, she was outside, her now shoulder length hair held back in a ponytail and using the frame of some young trees to weave together a throw mat from dried long grass and lemon grass. The work repetitive but satisfying and it was halfway done.  She intended to see if she could trade it for anything, or use it herself, as the lemon grass acted as a natural mosquito repellent.

Sonya wasn't sure if she could call herself happy, but for the moment she could call herself satisfied.

Comments

[lt-blade.livejournal.com]

And now for the big one.

"So what do we do now? Start over?" She really tried to not sound hesitant. "Or continue and see what comes of this?"

Sonya wasn't a romantic by any stretch of the imagination, but she couldn't help but stew over the possibility that maybe-just maybe-she could have start over and have a boyfriend. Yes, Scorpion was an assassin, but then Sonya had done her own fair share of killing, so she couldn't judge. She also couldn't help but feel relieved to have someone to talk to who knew of her own experiences and listened: he wasn't much of a talker, but then she probably did enough talking for the both of them. And he wasn't half bad looking.

The reality of the situation shut the other voice up. People disappeared on the island all the time and without warning. Sonya would've liked to think that she could handle such loss (she had done so before), but then back home she had the army to fall back on-it wasn't an option here. And Scorpion, he had already suffered personal loss before and it drove him mad. Suppose they had a relationship, and it went to far.

There were a lot of 'what-ifs' and 'maybes' to think about-and Sonya hated both words.

[get-over-here.livejournal.com]

"I should think 'start over' would be best. I would prefer not to swell too much on that one day the island brought us."

As Scorpion remembered all of the sappy thoughts that had been going through his head, he shook it. He was just glad he still had enough self control not to let the more extravagant things not escape his mouth. He would have rather said some of those things on his own, without magical interference.

"I like your company, Sonya."

[lt-blade.livejournal.com]

Coming from someone as anti-social as Scorpion, that was a genuine compliment and not one to take lightly. It wasn't really what she had met by 'starting over'-she meant to start before that whole fiasco, but this was just as good.

Sonya felt her lips turning up to an 'almost' smile. "I like your company, too-strange as it is." It was strange in a normal sort of way, almost expected, and on an island like this, any sort of normalcy was welcome.