soldtoarmenians: (computer)
There was something Xander was supposed to do when he woke up, and this time the fuzziness wasn't because of weekend weirdness, it was just tied into the whole unpleasant "waking up" concept. He stumbled around the room for a few minutes, feeding Jeremiah, brushing teeth, and doing other wakey-up things, before he finally remembered his conversations with Parker and Callisto last night. (And the one with Bridge, but bears didn't seem to have any direct relevance to the issue, even this early in the morning.) He was supposed to be trying to track down the weekend weirdness by checking his outgoing mail.

...*blink* ...*squint trying to read own bad typing*...*blink more*...*facepalm*

Right. Damage-control. If such a thing was possible.

Dear Willow: )

No more than a few minutes later, a reply appeared.

Dear Xander: )

Xander sighed, flipped up iTunes and put it on shuffle, then started downloading Sunday and Monday night's radio shows to see if they could give him a clue to anything else he might've said or done while truthified.

[Door's open, if anyone feels like wandering by.]
soldtoarmenians: (1-laugh)
The kind on real paper.

Dear Willow: )
soldtoarmenians: (1-smile)
Only in Fandom can you have subject lines like that, dude.

Xander ducked into his room from the party, where Isabel was still presumably hanging out, and where he'd just left Bridge. He grabbed the presents he'd bought at IKEA from his closet, tapped Jeremiah's tank and said, "Stop snickering at me; I can see you rolling your eyes, you know," then headed out again, down to Bridge's room.
soldtoarmenians: (frog)
Traditionally? Not the best day for Xander Harris. Not that he was feeling bitter or emo or in any way cribbing from his ex, because that would require reading her bitter emo mind, and Xander lacked that power.. Ms. Calendar had done a fine job of reminding him exactly why, yesterday - which hit he'd taken like a very manly man, because yeah. Stupid and Xander are intimately acquainted, and not in the way that means you leave a scarf tied around the door handle to warn your roomie that you and Stupid are gettin' down to some funky scrapbookin' in the room, and she might wanna hit the Common Room for a while. A couple floors away.

Which... sounded like not that bad of an idea, if he actually didn't want to get bitter and emo about his current lack of a partner for any art projects besides the ones in Professor Car's class. Xander shook his head, grabbed his present from the roomie and, after a thoughtful glance at his desk, Jeremiah's tank-handle.

"Come on, pal. Let's go hang out with the other losers. Not that I need cheering up, but you look like you could use the company. You're kinda shading toward indigo there."

Granted, that might've been the result of that last can of amphibi-sticks with the funny black label that said 'Made in Ry'leh, contents may arise from the sunken depths and herald the return of the Great Old Ones. Get a free shub-niggurathling with three proofs of purchase and the soul of your firstborn tadpole.' Or not.

Together, they headed for the 2nd floor Common Room.
soldtoarmenians: (apple)


Shop class wherein we learn that the best thing to pack when going camping is your little sister.
Creature Languages, wherein we ... uh. Take a quiz.
Magical Theory wherein we learn that Xander kinda sucks sometimes. Oh wait, we knew that. And Cordy is kind of awesome. Even if she does live in a hut.

soldtoarmenians: (sleepy)
Really late early drunk.

Though Xander may well have thought it was the roof. It's about as far as he got after stumbling out of Rory's room and retrieving his laptop from 406.

E-mail -- Daer Wilolw: )___

ZZZzzzZZZzzzZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
soldtoarmenians: (message)


Xander ( slammed out of his room ) carrying a whiteboard and a black dry-erase marker under his arm, heading for... well... anywhere away from there. Anywhere that hopefully contained no singing.

He may have looked a little odd, what with the large piece of duct tape over his mouth.

soldtoarmenians: (smile)
A wee bit of computing... (4th period) - in which Xander may have sent a distracted e-mail or two.
Art History (5th & 6th period) - in which Our Heroes Did Things With Doughnuts.
Study Group: Checking in with the Support Team (after 6th period) - in which someone was hugged by someone's ex-girlfriend, beers were mentioned, and there was a cat who might have been right, but Xander will never admit it, yo.
Study-group: Mountie-distraction (evening, during the vampire hunts party) - in which. Well, in which. Indeed.
soldtoarmenians: (twinkie)


{Linky, already happened. Not for RP, but Cafe OOC is always open}

After noting the aesthetic qualities of Isabel's and Callisto's Student Council campaign posters in the morning, Xander decided it was lucky he was a 12th-grader and didn't have to make a choice between the two...

In Creature Languages, he got to talk to a spider. But not the Spider :-( , see (or rather not see) Victor open a Twinkie package with his tongue, stick his own tongue out at Cordy, and take Blair's Twinkie-virginity.

Some days it's good to be a Senior.

soldtoarmenians: (Default)
{backdated, purely for linky historical purposes. NFB, since it's not actual RP, just a summary.}

After yesterday's weird phone messages, Xander wasn't entirely sure he wanted to interact with other humans, but he headed down to the 2nd floor common room anyway, where he met up with Angela, Rory, Crichton (OMG NOT STARING!), Aeryn, and Cordy.

He also stopped by the Men's room and while he was there, left a very important note on the Things You Guys Should Know About Fandom High poster...
soldtoarmenians: (the hell?)
After returning from registration and helping himself happily to some of the pretzels Isabel had left out for him -- and eyeing the Tabasco sauce warily but not touching it -- Xander checked his voicemail.

And stopped after hearing the first one. Then he replayed it. Several times. If there were anyone in the room besides Jeremiah, they'd have seen his face go through an amazing variation of expressions, from confused to -- very briefly -- contemplative, to completely freaked out.

Then, before his brain had really re-engaged, he picked up the phone and thought he called Marty back.

When he'd slammed the phone down from that experience, and buried his head in his hands for a few moments, he looked up to see Jeremiah watching him intently. "What?" he asked, his face still rather pale.

"Blerbbit?"

"Yes, I know I was in complete spaz-out mode, thank you. Wouldn't you be? Or do you get a lot of ferret-sex offers from other boy frogs? Assuming you're actually a boy, and no, I'm not checking right now; one of us might get the wrong idea, judging by how today is going."

Sighing, he picked up the phone, intending to call Marty back and try to sound like less of a closet basket case. Or possibly hang up in a panic when the machine picked up; he'd burn that bridge when he got to it. Except he never got to it, because he heard the skip in the dial tone indicating there were more voicemails.

After letting the second one play, the idea of sex with Marty was suddenly saved for his private gentleman's time in the shower not the biggest issue on his mind. He quickly called Parker or not to let her know what he'd heard.

The third message just made him giggle hysterically and not remotely suspect that the others had been wrong numbers, though that might have been residual WTF-overflow from the first two.

But wait, there's more! [Phale, Cordy, Janet, and Logan] )

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