Sixth Floor, Wednesday Morning

[satedan-soldier.livejournal.com]

Day two of the summer project found Ronon in charge of explaining some thing. Never a good sign. "Okay guys, today you need a hard hat and a mask. See this wall?" He pointed. It was a large, thick wall. "We're going through it. Get yourself a sledgehammer and get to work."

Okay, so maybe there wasn't much explanation given.

Around the cabins, Tuesday

[gameknowsgame.livejournal.com]

Around lunchtime the following flyer was posted up around the cabins:

Fandom High Green Party
in honor of Chuck Bass's Birthday
*
Saturday, May 16, after sunset
On the beach
*
Wear nothing but green
*
All Students Are Welcome
(Except the one calling herself
Serena van der Woodsen)

Blair felt that rather conveyed the point nicely.

[ooc: establishy, unless you'd like to react to the posters/talk to Blair while she's posting them]

The Salle - Wednesday, 5/13 - before classes

[cutsthestrings.livejournal.com]

Fiona had her yo yo and she was practicing.

Most of the tricks used a combination of sleeping, fingerwork, and controlled wristflicks to accomplish them. She wondered if some of them had any tactical use, but decided that with her life as it was, there was no telling what could be considered useful. Thankfully, she took to the yo yo with the same speed that Eliot had taken to a laptop and she found the whole thing relatively easy. Now, however, she had to learn precision, mostly with her cutting edge: she had to control exactly where she wanted it to be placed, which parts of the strings and what she wanted it to cut. It went well enough that within a few minutes, she was practicing bonking the dummies in the head with the steel end to see how fast she could manage it accurately.

...no reason, obviously.

[open!]

Rutherford B. Hayes Campfire, Wednesday Morning

[endsthegame]

It'd become obvious from the radio last night that Valentine was doing her best to look as social as she could, butterflying from one place to another. Ender registered it all with his own brand of careful instinct, and fed the information into the plan that had slowly started to come together since just before he'd sent in for his transfer.

He knew now where he stood, back home, and Val could actually be an asset. In order to do that, though, he had to look as if her presence was actually doing something - otherwise they'd just send someone else, and not all of them he trusted as he did Valentine.

So this morning found him by his own campfire with a few sandwiches, courtesy of Ben's mouse droid. He'd thought about bringing marshmallows or the kind, but that would have looked too uncharacteristic, and anyway, it wasn't really the time for it.

[ open like a campfire is, yo ]

Herbert Hoover Campfire-Wednesday evening

[solo_sword]

Jaina still didn't want to be in the cabins. She'd gotten too used to privacy, too used to being able to spend time alone with her boyfriend, too used to having the time to get work done on her own schedule.

But she wandered out to the campfire when she had some free time anyway, figuring that at least radio would say she tried. Because she had no idea yet that she was doing it. When she saw no one out there, she considered for a moment going back inside, but she wasn't really capable of half-assing it that much, and tried to get the fire started anyway.

See? Totally trying.

[Open campfire is open!]

FDR Campfire, Wednesday evening

[17andinfected.livejournal.com]

Shilo had decided to celebrate a successful first day at work with a fire. So she'd found some kindling, an old newspaper, and matches, and was building a fire the same way that her father had taught her how to in the fireplace.

She didn't know if it worked the same way for a campfire, but she could only hope. Besides, it wasn't as if she was planning on this being someone's funeral pyre. Just a small campfire, and hopefully some company.

She suddenly wondered if she should have stopped for s'mores supplies.

[ooc: Oooooopen.]

Around The Cabins, Wednesday Evening

[bigdamndestiny.livejournal.com]

There were posters put up all about--maybe a bit next to ones that had already been put up earlier that day--proclaiming, you guessed it, another party.


Comme to the Main Campfire for a cellabratioun of Beltane!

Fridae at Sunset!

All arre welcome!


...someone really ought to teach him that an exclamation point didn't need to end everything. And that he should look more closely at that dictionary of his for spelling.

[[Establishy! ...and god help me, I need to stop writing Merlin after reading Pratchett]]