Rutherford B. Hayes Campfire, Saturday Afternoon

[wantstodirect]

Tony had tried to get a fire started, but he'd gone through a whole book of matches and the damn thing still wouldn't stay lit. He had hot dogs and buns ready to cook if it ever got going. He figured he was probably doing something wrong, but he had no clue what. He had wood, he had flame, what else was there?

He gave up and munched on a cold hot dog.



[Open like a British bakery on the 4th of July!]

Outside FDR Cabin, Saturday afternoon

[17andinfected.livejournal.com]

Shilo was in a dress.

It was not black.

She was in sandals.

Also not black. Or remotely clunky.

She'd gone to the trouble of styling her wig, even.

Now she just had to work up the nerve to actually leave for the party.

"What the hell am I getting myself into..." she moaned.

[ooc: Open to any who want to offer encouragement/insults/advice/alternative entertainment but will be SP until later, I'm off to dinner with my boy and my sister]

Benjamin Harrison Cabin Campfire - Late Saturday Evening

[guardianborn.livejournal.com]

If you had asked her four days ago, Rose would never have guessed she'd be on some little island in Maryland tonight.  She should have been tired after a long series of days, but the cabin seemed too stuffy and hot, and she found herself outside at the campfire.

She surprised herself by managing to light a fire in the pit, and Rose sat just to the side of it, poking at the fire more to soothe her frustrations than actually help the fire.  Which became evident as the fire started to sputter and smoke into the night.

Rose paid no attention to that though, too busy glaring at the cabin or the sky to notice something silly like the actual campfire.

[OOC:  Campfire = open.]