Kazakhstan Yurt | Tuesday Morning

[thegreywaren.livejournal.com]

The world seemed to be conspiring to make Ronan live in smaller places every few months. Going from Monmouth to his dorm room to a freaking yurt did not make him a pleasant person to be around. The only saving grace today was that he'd actually had some sleep and the painkillers he'd been given for his arm were working their magic.

He was outside of the yurt, enjoying the warm morning before it got unbearable. Chainsaw was hopping around in front of him, pecking at the ground and being loud every so often.

"Kerah!"

"Yeah, yeah," Ronan answered, raising an eyebrow. "It's like you've never been outside before."

Chainsaw gave that no answer. Ronan rubbed absently at the thick white bandage on his arm and sighed. He'd told Gansey about the nightmare and Gansey, sympathetic Gansey, had offered to come visit, to take him on some road trip.

Ronan didn't really want to squeeze into the Pig for hours on end but it was a nice thought. For now, he'd just sit outside and exude mellowness. The anger was lurking, simmering, and Ronan wrapped it around him like a blanket.

[Open, of course]

Main Campfire, Tuesday evening

[ultimatehottie.livejournal.com]

Johnny wasn't minding yurt life too much, but he did have to admit that he was kind of out of his groove. Between regular trips back to New York as an excuse for mun absence, ahem and just generally not being as social as usual, he felt like he needed to do something to get his groove back.

So he grabbed some marshmallows and a crude, quickly made sign. The marshmallows were for roasting (something he did in his hand but others might do on the campfire). The sign was for posting.

It read:
Summer is Half Over!
Let's Remember the First Half Fondly!
Saturday Night!
6th Floor Common Room Party!!

With that job done, Johnny got back to roasting the marshmallows in his hands. He was definitely a city kid, but fire codes generally frowned on doing stuff like this, so the outdoors had their delicious silver linings.

[OOC: Open, naturally. And let this serve as a reminder of the party this weekend ahead of Not-So-Final Destination!]