Camp Gym, Friday lunchtime

[tyler-gone.livejournal.com]

Tyler sat on a mat and stretched, trying to warm up all of his muscles. he was still feeling a little off-balance from his cold, but he figured that just made it a fairer fight.

He bounced on the balls of his feet, happy to be sparring again.

[OOC: Mostly for Blair, but open.]

Flamingo campfire, Friday afternoon

[suzotchka.livejournal.com]

Ivanova relaxed back into the Adirondack chair again, a bottle of juice sitting on the arm where something slightly more alcoholic would normally sit. The sun was shining, she was back in Fandom, she was happy, she was probably going to fall asleep . . .

[[Before the plotty. Open for all.]]

Puffin Roof; Friday Afternoon.

[bound2blade.livejournal.com]

Considering that she'd been given a career from the moment she could remember and was to pursue it until death, Sakurazaki figured there was no need for her to go to the career fair this afternoon. In fact, she truly did not want to go, telling herself that it was because she didn't need to. But there was more to it than that. Which is precisely why she sat at the edge of the roof of her cabin, one leg dangling down while the other was tucked in close to her, eyes focused on some thought found on the horizon.

[[open]]

Camp gym, Friday night

[can_be_more]

After the Career Day thing, Aeryn has to spend some time either worrying about stuff like that, or doing something. She's really bad at the first thing.

This means she's back in the gym, gloves on, hitting the bag as means of distraction.


[Open, la!]

Main Campfire, Friday evening

[carter-i-am.livejournal.com]

Deciding she couldn't face the heat and humidity of the early afternoon Virginia summer, Sam had gone back to her room after the Doctor's class, taken a hot shower (because it was different, thank you), then decided to try something. Something people would appreciate.

Chocolate chip cookies. They printed the recipe right on the package, and she was getting better. She'd taken out the mixing bowls and the ingredients, except for the vanilla. Sam had climbed up on the counter and reached into the cupboard, fumbling around until she'd found what she was looking for. It had smelled vaguely like vanilla to Sam, so she'd measured it out and dumped it into the bowl with the wet ingredients.

She'd stirred and mixed and portioned and baked.

And now, several hours later, there was a plate of innocent looking chocolate chip cookies on the picnic table. They weren't perfect by any stretch of the imagination--some were burnt, some were undercooked, some were torn, but they were cookies.

Next to it was a hand-lettered sign that said: Help yourself!--Sam


[ooc: Okay, how this works is--if you signed up for the plot, have a cookie (or two). They'll taste a little weird, because there's no vanilla in them, but they should still be edible. You also don't have to eat them at the campfire--you can just ping, grab one or two, and nosh later. The effects won't kick in until tomorrow, though, so you can still do whatever you want to do tonight. The post itself is open to all, though.]

The Gym, Early Saturday Morning (Post #1)

[carter-i-am.livejournal.com]

The gym was dark and quiet, except for two distinct and opposite corners of the gym, which were very well lit, almost as if it was intentional.

It seemed to be waiting, and a sense of anticipation filled the air. Or maybe it was the orchestra tuning up.

[ooc: Okay, all of these posts are ready for everyone to tag in. Posts are open to all. *crosses fingers*]