sixthiterationlogs | (no subject)

WHO: Jake Jensen
WHERE: The Alvarez-Jensen-Sawyer residence's back yard
WHEN: April 10
OPEN TO: OTA
WARNINGS: excessive singing by a very, very white man
STATUS: ongoing

Perhaps he should be suspicious of the nearly idyllic weather that's settled over this godforsaken hellhole, but Jake has always tried his best to live in the moment as much as possible, especially in situations where he can't control the future in any real way, shape, or form. And since it doesn't look like they'll be getting out of here any time soon, he's settled into the idea that he might as well focus on the present and enjoy what good moments they can scratch out of this shitty little life.

Okay, he can't honestly be too mad about this. It sucks that they're trapped, but he's spent two solid weeks trapped in the jungle with Cougar before, and that was with a broken ankle and a concussion and no glasses, with enemy soldiers hunting them down to try and kill them, so this already has a huge leg up on that nightmare. At least here he has a house, and clean sheets, and a roommate, and a dog, and a general support network of neighbors and friends to rely on and socialize with. He's unreasonably fond of Cougar, it's true, but the guy isn't a great conversationalist, especially not when you're both fighting a raging fever and trying not to get perforated by a hail of bullets.

He's decided to seize the moment, weather-wise, and get the washing finished. The soap they've managed to conjure up is a fucking far cry from some Tide back home, but it's good enough at getting general grime out of their sheets, and he's spent most of the afternoon churning a tub full of cotton fabric with a wooden dolly that he'd crudely whittled over the winter with a little instruction from some of the town residents who had actually used one before and not just seen them on Wikipedia.

Once the sheets are as clean as he was going to get them and as wrung out as he can manage, it's time for hanging, which is how Jake ends up in the back yard by the chicken coop and rabbit hutch, Baby tagging along at his heels curiously as he starts to heft sopping wet bundles of white cotton up onto the clothes line, belting out a song at the top of his lungs like he's not in a more or less public space and people can actually hear him.

"I want a Sunday kind of love" he croons at the dog, who cocks his head curiously to one side as Jake pretends the equally crudely-whittled clothespins in his hands are a microphone. "A love to last past Saturday night~"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Her comment that she doesn't eat much has Jake frowning slightly at her, deeply-ingrained concerns about Beth's eating habits rising to the fore in regards to a different young girl, followed quickly by more practical worries about adequate nutrition that have nothing to do with potential eating disorders.

He doubt that's much of a concern in this isolated hellscape, really.

"If you need help getting enough food..." he starts, a half-formed offer dying on his tongue when he thinks about how hard Cougar works to make sure his oversized boyfriend is fed. Jake knows how much he eats, and how difficult it is to keep him running adequately. Not to mention Cougar himself, and then they've got Veronica to think about... Jake has to stop attempting to take in strays. "There are lots of people here these days, surely you can barter for more food."

He half-turns to look at his dog, something soft and fond coloring his expression as the dog lifts pale blue eyes just like Jake's to meet his. "Yeah, he's okay. Even if he's spoiled terribly."

The pig in her arms gets a considering look. "Maybe," he concedes. "Pigs are natural truffle hunters, but I'm not sure how you'd go about training him to first find them and then not eat them when he does find them."

Moana was a small person, at least compared to those she knew on her island. It wasn't that she ate so little but she ate the mount she needed and nothing else. It wasn't difficult for her to maintain her weight on just a little bit of food. Food was precious and Moana grew up in a culture where she was taught to take care of those around her.

"I can catch a lot of fish with my net." She shook her head. "Getting food isn't a problem and I like sharing it." It's just how she was.

Her fingers brushed against Itiiti's head which got a happy grunt out of the little pig.

"Pigs are very smart. If I tell Itiiti then I know he won't." Moana didn't know how smart pigs were compared to other animals but she'd grow up with Pau who knew that most of the pigs in the village were eaten. "It's worth a try." She looked down at Itiiti. "What do you think?"

In reply Itiiti squealed happily, butting it's nose against Moana's arm.

"A net, now that's useful." He sounds impressed that she's managed to fabricate a fishing net. Of course, it could have been a gift, but he figures she would have mentioned that when she mentioned the fact that her pig turned up in a box on her porch. Some people have gotten multiple gifts, some useful, some not, but all Jake ever got was his dog. He can't really say he's too upset about that. Baby has been a bright spot in the bleakness that's been his captivity, and Jake is eternally grateful for him.

Jake doesn't seem convinced. "You sure he's gonna understand you?" he asks, eyeing the pig suspiciously. "As far as I know, most pigs aren't exactly fluent in English."

The high-pitched squeal Itiiti lets out when Moana speaks to him brings a smile to Jake's face, though, and he chuckles quietly. "But then again, maybe he is."

Moana had made the net, using fibers from the milkweed plant. It was the only plant that she'd found during the winter that she was able to work with and it'd taken her long hours to figure out the inns and out of the strange stalk. It wasn't like the coconut but after a month she had a fairly decent functioning fishing net. Her home was simple, much like this one and she was in an interesting position where she got to learn all aspects of the village. She had to because one day she'd take over for her father an be the chief.

"I can make you one if you want. A net. I have a second half made." She'd stopped when Thorfinn vanished. She hadn't had to give him the net she made for him. It made her sad but she hoped that he was at home, somewhere brighter than this place.

A soft laugh left her lips. "Pau was always able to understand me and Itiiti will too." She looked up at Jake, her dark eye shining knowingly. "Just like Baby understands you. They aren't so different." Except that pigs were smarter than dogs.