soldtoarmenians: (fashion zomg)
Dear Willow )

After sending off what felt like a really damn long e-mail to Willow, Xander checked his inbox and found one from Krycek and Jake, at which he grinned and immediately replied.

Then he went back to sitting on the foot of his bed, staring at the couple of bags he'd packed for the cabins, out of boxes that he hadn't even completely unpacked, trying to decide if there was anything else he could or should shove into them before they exploded.
__
{The door is open to all like an open to all thing. Yeeah notsomuch now. ;-)}
soldtoarmenians: (zomgnotathief!)
Okay, so Xander only had one final, 5th & 6th period. But it was the big Art final that he gave up on studying for. Probably good, that, since it turned out that the test was to really fake steal some fake art. Xander teamed up with Jake, Angela, Bridge, and Krycek, learned things about Bridge that he did not know before and possibly never wanted to know, but possibly not and wandered over to totally steal OMG not steal The Scream. Hopefully with style.

Later in Music 201, which Xander is not in, there were shenanigans of a heist-like variety too, but Xander knows nothing about that.

Well, not much. Really. O:-)
soldtoarmenians: (Default)
After running into town to get flowers (Guy flowers, okay? The kind that go on your lapel.) that he totally didn't forget until the last minute, Xander arrived back at 406 to find that his date? Already there. Though not already dressed. In prom clothes, that is. He was dressed in regular clothes omg, jeez - the roomie was there, after all!

After arriving at the Town Hall, there was an actual first dance. On an actual dancefloor. In public and all. Shockingly, Xander survived it. Even more shockingly, he survived dancing with Parker.

There was chatting with Rory by the punchbowl, and dancing with Bridge to That Song (no, not the Macarena) and somehow when he went for punch after that, there was dancing with Jake. Girl Jake. No, that wasn't weird at all. Unlike everything else tonight, of course.

Also Isabel, and who knew you could dance to The Rainbow Connection? Besides, presumably, frogs.

And then there was that last song which... um, yeah, notsomuch, Mr. Looksliketheexprincipalbutisn't Guy.

And then there was that.
soldtoarmenians: (Default)


Well, that's gonna give Xander a convenient reason to unload a second birthday gift on Isabel, courtesy of Shop, finally give Aeryn the thing he'd bought for her when she came back and then never really found a non-awkward way to pass on, and give Angela the present Rory had helped him pick out at IKEA. And proves he was not on crack to think that buying some foodie gift baskets for the insane amount of parties they have around here could be an idea.

Too bad it doesn't really provide an excuse for handing over the other present he bought on Sunday, but... ah well. He'll be more neurotic about that bridge when he...you know, that metaphor is suddenly a lot less metaphorical than it used to be.

soldtoarmenians: (Default)
Xander woke up... to a bed covered in chocolate eggs.

He would've stopped to say, or at least think WTF? And then wonder if Isabel had done it and decide he needed to cross-stitch Best. Roomie. Ever. on a sampler or something, except the whole room seemed to be covered with them, so he took a wild guess it wasn't her.

And then he was too busy eating.

And then he was too busy discovering that in fact? It is humanly possible to eat too much chocolate. Bleeeeergh sugar-dump.

And then he was too busy stumbling sleepily off to IKEA.
soldtoarmenians: (computer)


Or, Xander Harris and the Inbox of Doooom

Viagra spam yawn.

Invitation from Jake to go buy a couch...um. Okay. possibly. Despite... almost complete lack of money. But hey, birthdays coming up liek whoa.

E-mail from Willow, oh crap. )



....*headdesk*

Dear Willow: )
Dear Xander: )
Dear Willow: )
Dear Xander: )
Dear Willow: )
Dear Xander: )
Dear Willow: )
Dear Xander: )
Dear Willow: )
Dear Xander: )
Dear Willow: )
Dear Xander: )
Dear Willow: )
Dear Xander: )
Dear Willow: )
___
*headdesk* *headdesk* *headdesk*

[Open for roomination! Or other visitation, as long as it's before the afternoon when Misadventure Yay is occurring.]

soldtoarmenians: (idea)


Tuesday:

History of Art wherein there is something resembling a conversation with Krycek.

Wednesday:

Shop, wherein there is lockpicking.
Magical Theory, wherein OMGWTF, MacBeth?
Kissy election results , wherein, well, kissy.

Thursday:

Creature Languages wherein there is Lobster Rod Rock.

soldtoarmenians: (computer)
To: xander.harris@fandomhigh.net
From: willow.rosenberg@hogwarts.ac.uk
Subject: Helloooooooo...

Dear Mr. Noncommunicaty: What's up? Did your friends get any use out of the stuff I sent you on Rita Skeeter? How are those classes you're so very much more than passing, pardon me while I point and laugh1? Have you licked the frog this week? Inquiring minds want to know.

Love, Willow

1 P.S. In a loving way, of course OMG! And have I mentioned SATs recently? In the last five minutes, hmm?

Dear Willow: )
Dear Xander: )
Dear Willow: )
soldtoarmenians: (Default)


Art History featured sharing of flags and teasinating of Rory with a side-order of backdrop-painting.

Music -- which Xander is not in, so he was not there, saw an appearance by the elusive Twinkie-thief. And some people in leather pants (and skirt yay go Ninja Vin Diesel). This is a complete coincidence. And also Xander was not there.

He was in the common room just long enough to follow Rory and a bunch of other people off to Bridge's place for a game of I Never. Which he totally won. Not because he was the last person to pass out, but because he was smart enough not to touch the spacevodka, and that so counts as winninating in Xander's book.

soldtoarmenians: (1-cautious)
In Shop, Xander helped Nadia learn about the Lorax except 'help' might be the wrong verb there, made some festive flags for the castle set, and actually did help Nadia with her, um. Flingenation. Of fairy dust. Which he was still covered with when he went to Magical Theory. During which his ears were not remotely burning, because it's already been demonstrated that Xander? Sucks at psychic.

Later there was play rehearsal, and later still, in the common room there was Vanessa Saturn, which was new to Xander's time-warped eyes, plus the apparently now-requisite torture by Rory who is mean and evil and Faithful who is a cat so that's kinda redundant, discussion of temporal displacement with both Bridge and Krycek, an artistic question from Jake and the random appearance of Ninja Vin Diesel.

But not, of course, Ninja Vin Diesel's boyfriend. Because that would just be weird.

3/4

Mar. 4th, 2006 02:54 pm
soldtoarmenians: (red)
Xander didn't get a lot of sleep after hitting Jake and Logan's party last night, but he still managed to drag himself down to the front gates the next day to sign-in
and leave for the trip to England. After a surprisingly short but bumpy bus ride, he checked in to the fancy-liek-whoa hotel, then headed off to dinner with Rory, Marty, Angela, Parker, Jaye, and Zero, followed up by a trip to the London Eye, wherein there was far too much discussion of -- quell your shock -- boykissing.
soldtoarmenians: (red)
First we checkee zee E-mail, OMG, then we throwee zee paint , zen we speak wit zee bad French accent for no reason as we pack for zee trip to England, zen we sigh and admit zat we should probably buy somebody zee birthday present after all because we totally bought zee present for Logan already ZOMG, so we surf zee net. Again. We also try to changee zee channel on zee tv wit zee power of our mind and are ZOMG mildly sad when zee tv totally ignores us. :-(

___
{We do not RP in zee post. We just drop zee links.}
soldtoarmenians: (sleepy)


It hadn't exactly been an eventful day; his only class was Art History and that had been a blow-off movie hour with the crazy nun again. The crazy art nun, not the crazy sex-tips nun, although they looked disturbingly like they might be related. Hadn't been a bad day, either, especially not compared to ~OMG Robots Attack!~

But Xander's head was starting to ache again, and his burned finger throbbed; he really wasn't up for heading out to see whether there was anybody in the common room who didn't know about his new weird power and could be freaked out by some less than random channel flipping. Fun, but maybe later when he wasn't so tired and achey.

While he dutifully followed doctor's orders and didn't use booze to bribe the little guy with the mallet, Xander did substitute an overly-large handful of Excedrin, and a twinkie. Because caffeine and sugar? Always conducive to a restful night's sleep. They cut into the headache a bit, but not the tiredness; by the time he'd read and answered a couple e-mails from Parker, Xander was falling asleep over his laptop, and barely had time to move it off the bed before he zonked out completely.

Dream, cut so you can just say no to crack. )



And Xander smacked at his alarm clock with a muttered FRAK. He hit his burned finger on it, and followed that up with a FRELL that wasn't remotely muttered.

And it was 7 a.m., and he had to get up for Shop, and damn if he could remember what the hell he'd just dreamt. He guessed he really would just have to make something up for class today. Also, cheerful? Not so much. Though not entirely inexplicable, what with the hour and the ow.

__
{Dream people utterly modded without their permission, OMG.}

soldtoarmenians: (1-neutral)

Room 406, with deep dedication to an art project. For Shop.
Newspaper, with pertinent, if incomplete, Mountie-information.
Shop class, with KABOOM!
Dewey's office, with annoying note.
Dream's office, with lack of good news.
Jack's poster, with anticlimactic information.
Magical Theory, with the Salem Witch Trials.
2nd floor common room, with possessed TV, random dismemberment and - relax and take a deep breath, because this might come as a bit of a shock around here, but -- boykissing.

soldtoarmenians: (1-neutral)
Xander stared at The Drawer, then at the duct tape and handful of pencils on his desk. Then at The Drawer. Then at the laptop screen full of A Midsummer Night's Dream. Then at The Drawer.

It was wrong, and sacrelicious. And yet.

He pulled open The Drawer , shielded his eyes from the Holy Golden Glow and set to work.
soldtoarmenians: (Default)


Unsent:

Dear Mom and Dad: today I got my missing clothes back and pictured Jake Gavin in a cheerleading outfit, wore John Crichton and got detention for sharing him with Ms. Skeeter, totally had a catfight with Rory Gilmore over a hot Mountie except not because that would be weird and make Dad nod knowingly and say he always knew it which would be one of the 4,000 reasons I'm never actually mailing this letter, took a mid-term in Art History and haven't written a word of it yet, ZOMG, did not tell Angela Chase a fart joke but did almost tell the one about Really Strong Guy Who Can Fly mistaking Unseeable Guy for Bitterwoman, did inform Jaye Tyler that she's abnormal to her everlasting shock, and was informed by Parker who has no first name because I enjoy existing, that I'm an asshat. No, sorry, a bottom. No, sorry, the Bottom. I might be needing to murderize Jake Gavin, cheerleading uniform or not; if so, don't worry. I won't call you for bail money.

Yeah, my life's not complicated.

Hey, if you happen to see a giant snake around town? You're not imagining it; drive the other way.

~Xander

__

Sent:

Dear Willow: Hey. Remember that shared nightmare about ever having to go on a stage again? Guess what...

soldtoarmenians: (reading)
Within, there was a Xander. Who was sort of awake. In that 'sitting at the desk, staring at your Art History book and not really seeing anything, even the Naked Venus On the Half-Shell centerfold in the Early Renaissance section you just flipped through yet again' way.

There could be coffee, but that would require movement.
soldtoarmenians: (the hell?)
But it's probably less than surprising that at three in the afternoon, he was just coming out of the shower, hair dripping, dressed in sweats and an old t-shirt because they were the nearest clean thing to the bathroom when he headed that way after sleeping in... kinda late.

Kinda hard, too, hard enough to miss the radio. A little less restlessly than the night before, though -- which could lead unastute observers of the species harris xandificus to assume he'd managed to come to some sort of accord with whatever restless twitch had prompted his absence yesterday -- but those who've, like, met him would probably catch on that he pretty much just managed to tire himself out completely, brain included. Not that the last one is exactly a difficult proposition.

Now, though, he was looking for clothes that he could wear, oh, outside the room. For instance to an Investigators' Club meeting tonight.

Xander reached into his closet for his favorite rusty-orange button-up to throw on over the tee, and found... nothing. Hangar empty. Buh? He knew he'd washed it in the load on Thursday, but just in case, he checked his basket of dirty laundry. Nope. Not on the chair or accidentally kicked under the bed, either. Closet again: not on the floor, not shoved behind other clothes... And hey, his brown jacket was missing too!

The hell?

He started sorting through the pile of random crap fallen clothes at the bottom of the closet again, just in case, but it looked like they'd completely disappeared.
__
{Door's open, or, well, not locked - just if you stop in, try to avoid clueing him in about the play, since it'd probably be funnier if that happened with multiple people around.}
soldtoarmenians: (empty bed)
Which is why it's a little odd that his bed is empty. Slept in, yes, though probably not very well, judging from the rumpledness of the pillow and the sheets kicked halfway off the bed. Made, no, because perhaps for a moment we'd forgotten the hour and whose bed it is?

There's a well-fed frog on the desktop who may or may not look perturbed at the uncharacteristic early rising of his owner slave jailer parental figure worm-procurer, but it's hard to tell for sure if he cares; he's kind of inscrutable that way. He might just be annoyed that somebody's sticky-tacked a note to his tank that says, "Frog's been fed, going out to do some studying, not sure when I'll be back."

Note would make more sense if the laptop weren't still sitting on the desk next to the frog, or if anyone who's met him believed for a second that Xander Harris would willingly study on a Saturday.
__
{For all your Room 406 needs, if you're the type of person to have Room 406 needs... Also just establishing Xander as Not Around, yo. And not in a great mood, wherever the hell he is, following on something that's still being played out from Friday evening. Various places around campus and town, distracting himself and avoiding interaction, basically. If you're there, he left five minutes before you arrived.}

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