Main Campfire, Monday morning

[inthereflexes.livejournal.com]

Jack decided to take matters into his own hands. He'd managed to not find his little sibling for, like, over a week or two, and this was too far. No telling what would be happening by this point in a place like this.


So he made a sign, LEDA in big bold letters, and planted it by the main campfire. Have to see it sometime, right? Couldn't miss it.


To pass the time, he was cooking some hotdogs over a little fire.

Sixth Floor | Monday | May 18

[just-add-starch.livejournal.com]

Bright and early, Fraser was back up on the sixth floor, already decked out in his snazzy hard hat. It fit his head much better than it fit his fellow supervisors.

"Good morning," he greeted those that had arrived. "As you can see, the wall is almost completely down and, luckily, there doesn't appear to be anything behind it but what the remnants of what once was the rest of the sixth floor. Before we push through, we're going to clean up the debris we've left behind when we took down the wall. There are wheelbarrows here to haul parts of the wall away. Please be careful as you do this. You're also welcome to take down the remaining parts of the wall to make our passage easier."

Fraser walked over to a long table and patted the hard hats and tool belts. "Please be safe. Wearing your equipment is mandatory. Once you're equipped, please get to work and find myself or Professor Dex if you need anything."

Millard Filmore Campfire - Monday lunchtime - 5/18

[new-to-liirness.livejournal.com]

Liir had been playing his usual game of avoidance for the weekend and thus decided to do something about it.

That was why he was out with a lit fire, putting sticks into the ground around the fire with a few different kinds of sausages, hoping to provide a little lunch and maybe, just maybe, see people. He wasn't worried about the sausages, even though he wasn't that hungry.

Makejoy, growing girl that she was, looked as if she'd eat every last one if no one came.

[open like a fire!]

The Salle, Monday Morning

[bitchprince]

The fight last night had worn away the more passionate edges of anger, and left Arthur in a pensive mood as well as bruised and battered. He didn't mind bruised and battered. Bruised and battered meant that he could now turn his focus inward, make himself a little smaller.

His drills that morning were hence under tight control, slow and focused, like every blow came with a unity of concentration and thought that left little room for anything else. He didn't know if Dinah or Romeo would show up that day, and neither, really, did he care very much.

[[ salle is open, of course, although i might be slow ]]

LBJ Campfire, Monday Evening

[rocksthescarf.livejournal.com]

Chuck didn't know who started the campfire outside his cabin but he was glad that someone did. He was capable of working a lighter but that whole Boy Scout-y wood and newspaper in the optimal fire starting position thing was lost on him. So when people did the hard stuff for him he was appreciative. Silently appreciative. He wasn't about to be thanking people out loud.

Now he was sitting back against a log with a joint in his hand and was debating going back inside the cabin to grab marshmallows. Maybe after the munchies set in.

[Open! You will keep me entertained whilst I wait for the Gossip Girl finale]

The Roof of Theodore Roosevelt Cabin, Monday Evening

[thismaskiwear.livejournal.com]

It could probably be argued that the roof of the cabins wasn't the best place to be when your purpose for being up there was to consume as much of the bottle of Jack Daniels and two packs of cigarettes (mostly that latter although the former was probably a concern too) you'd brought up there with you, but shut up, she'd brought a soda can for an ashtray and she wasn't perched on the edge, and she really didn't want to be in the cabin right now.

It could also probably be argued that it was a miracle that Katchoo hadn't started breaking things (or, you know, specific people), but she hadn't gotten past the numb depressive part and to the RARGHSMASHY rage yet.

Yet.

For now she was stuck on brooding, drinking, and smoking. On the roof. Because that was so smart.

[OOC: Of course it's open, if you think 'Do Not Taunt Happy Fun Chewie' is, in fact, an invitation and a blessing to do just that. Because it is.]