Main campfire, Saturday morning

[suzotchka.livejournal.com]

Rizzo, sitting on top of one of the picnic tables by the unlit fire, leaned back and folded her legs in the tight black dress she had found in her closet this morning. Loose t-shirts and those jeans? So not her style. Why she even had them, she didn't know. She had woken up with the worst craving for a cigarette, a need she was now satisfying with a long drag and relieved exhale. She held the cigarette loosely in one hand, leaning back on the other as she surveyed the goings-on around her with an amused little smile, sunglasses perched on top of her head at the moment.

[[In a startling turn of events, open for interaction! *grin*]]

Puffin Campfire, Late Saturday Afternoon.

[bound2blade.livejournal.com]

Sakurazaki had been feeling rather lazy, especially for her, today. She was still bothered intensely by her recent bout of thinking too much about her jobs, and her right arm and shoulder was killing her from weilding Peter's sword not dirty. But she was also feeling a little restless. Snatching up her English copy of "The Art of War," a dictionary, and a notebook, she perches herself crosslegged on a log around the campfire, alternating between reading and composing some sort of sketchy lesson plan to incorperate Eastern philosphy into Peter's training.


[[open; my availabilty today? Really crazy and wonky. Unpredictable. So expect slow-play on the Sakurazaki interaction. I still wanted to toss something out, though. SP is love, and all that. :) ]]

Gym, Saturday Afternoon

[cyclopeanmerc.livejournal.com]

With immense trepidation, Pip peaked into the gym and quickly scanned for singers with New Jersey accents.


The coast seemed clear, so he slipped in and started his work out routine.

_{[[Gym's open]]}