The trebuchet on the campgrounds, Friday afternoon

[notmyownage]

Claudia was feeling weirdly restless after class, today. Pacing back and forth in her cabin restless. All she had lying around were, like, chemicals and books. She was so not in the mood to read anything, and you know, when you got down to it, those chemicals just kinda took up space and smelled funky. They were probably an affront to the island gods. She gathered it all up, books, jars of minerals, even her bunsen burner, lugged them outside, and dropped them in the trash, then went to burn off some excess energy.

Which would be why she was out dismantling the trebuchet.

With a sledge hammer.

[ooc: oh but she's gonna hate me for this in the morning. Open.]

Comments

[theotherpeter.livejournal.com]

"I'm out of here," Peter said, crawling back and trying to get to his feet. "You're mental. Completely and utterly."

[notmyownage]

"Right. And you're perfectly sane." Claudia turned her back on him, reaching for the sledgehammer to continue bashing at the trebuchet. "Run away, then. Something'll catch up to you, eventually."

[theotherpeter.livejournal.com]

"And I'm sure ignorance is bliss," Peter said, scuttering off.

He had things to do. Like make a father's day card for his dad.