Early Wednesday Morning, Outside Chtulhu Cabin

[dark_slippy_thing]

Valentine was up way too early to actually be bothered with readying himself for his workshop yet, but too late to remain in bed all the same. And so he made his way outside, took a seat on the grass, pulled a few balls from his pockets and started to juggle.
There was a distinct possibility that he was avoiding the inside of Cthulhu B for one reason or another that he would no doubt snap about if anyone asked.
The juggling certainly did have a sort of grumpy air to it.

(Open, as spots on the lawn in the wee hours of the morning tend to be.)

Outside Chupacabra cabin: Tuesday afternoon

[vkandis-son.livejournal.com]

With no classes on Tuesday, there was nothing that he had to do. Karal was fairly certain he was never going to get used to that but, after much urging from Altra, he was making the attempt.

It was a beautiful day and he was currently sitting against a tree behind Chupacabra cabin, in riding clothes rather than his robes, holding Trenor on a long line so he could graze at the edge of the clearing.

There was a bright beam of sunlight shining on him, making him sleepy and warm, Trenor occasionally whickered happily, and he was rereading the Tale of Gregori.

Maybe having nothing to do wasn't quite so bad.

[ooc: open to anyone!]

Jackalope, Campire, Wednesday Morning

[not_in_the_book]

Ronan had gotten up again, a few hours after the naked mutiny, and discovered that the electricity was absent. Including the electricity that powered the hot water heater. He fiddled around a bit in the bathroom before grabbing the electric kettle from the living room (completely missing the fact that there was a plain, metal one as well), filling it, and taking it out to the campfire, where he spoke six words to it that set it whistling in a matter of seconds. He made his tea, and sat back enjoying the morning sunlight.

"I love wizardry," he said.

There was a sign on the bathroom door that said:

Power's out, but I've talked to the
showerheads so we've got hot water.
-Ronan



(ooc: open. feel free to wander by and marvel at the mysteriously boiling electric kettle.)

Camp Gym [the salle, after workshops]

[notqueenyet.livejournal.com]

After her workshop, Aravis had changed into the nicer of the two old sets of her brother's clothing, made her way to the weapons locker and retrieved her scimitar. It had been an eventful enough day that a little practice with her sword was hardly an unwelcome idea.

She set the candles she'd brought with her a fair distance away just in case the salle is sans windows and set to work, becoming re-used to the weight of the sword.

[open like a thing. wee bit of SP around 2-4 EST]

Camp gym, Cheerleading practice, afternoon after workshops

[1ordinarygirl.livejournal.com]

Having handwavily called the cheerleaders she knew was here for the first term, and hoping that whatever voicemail they had ran on batteries, Buffy wandered over to the gym carrying a bag filled with sodas. She wasn't really planning for it to be a practice so much as a discussion about the tryouts.

But of course, she was always in favour of a workout!

ooc: wait for ocd! OCD is up!
ETA: Graduated Cheerleaders who still wanna be involved in cheerstuff while you're in fandom, please sign in as well, and we'll arrange it all IG!

Chupacabra campfire: Wednesday morning before classes

[vkandis-son.livejournal.com]

Karal's day had started with a naked girl naked people. Or his yesterday had ended with naked people. Granted, they hadn't been truly naked, but either way it had still been a bit of a shock.

So when he went into the common area to make tea and discovered the light switches and water heating device weren't working, he barely batted an eye. Gathering the largest metal pot he could find, he filled it with water and took it, the tea, and a mug outside, Altra trotting behind him.

He'd had enough experience, mornings in the Cloister when he'd woken deliberately early, that he knew how to do this. Build a fire, leave a semi-circle for the pot, and soon the water was bubbling away.

With a mug of tea, a rock to lean against, and a 'cat lying across his legs, purring loudly, it wasn't a bad morning.

[ooc: open to all! He will happily share tea!]

Abominable Snowfire, Wednesday evening

[sarcasm-guy.livejournal.com]

If the campfire in front of the Abominable Snowman cabin smelled better than all the others, there was a good reason.

Sokka had just come back from being out in the Preserve, and two fresh-caught rabbits were roasting slowly on a spit he had erected. He hummed to himself off-key and licked his lips as he waited for dinner to be ready.

And today he had had both the classes he had actually signed up for, too, and they were awesome. It was a good day.

Around to Every Single Cabin; Wednesday Evening.

[stocksgrrl.livejournal.com]

A box tucked under her arm, Turtle had a plan to milk the benefits out of another blackout, and went around, knocking on every single cabin door with her best winning smile planted firmly on her face. She whistled, waiting for someone to answer them, ready to push these candles out of her hand and some more money into her pocket.


[[ I figured this would be the best way to do this. Entirely open to anyone who wants to catch her knocking at their doors or even in between cabins to be assaulted by the little braided salewoman ]]

Basilisk Campfire; Wednesday Evening.

[senor-chado.livejournal.com]

So Chad'd spent the day painting the walls of Empire red...and pink and yellow and rainbow, playing with Melody's pussycats, and then doing the cheerleading thing. This explained why, as Chad settled around the cabin's campfire with his guitar, he was playing the manliness metal and rock he could manage on just a bass.

[[ open, of course! ]]

Cthulhu Campfire, Late Wednesday Night

[electric-sitar.livejournal.com]

Rather than buying candles or another form of lighting, Demyx had just lit the campfire. You wouldn't think that a water-type would be any good with lighting fires, but he'd learned a few things from Axel. And Axel had really been the one to know such things.

He had his sitar with him, absently playing nonsensical notes while staring into the flames. There was something fascinating about fire. Such a destructive force, but it could be contained by things that were hard to burn.

There was a deep thought in there, somewhere.


((open, as campfires tend to be! cthulhu-ites and otherwise ^^))