soldtoarmenians: (sidelong)
Xander's really packing, this time, not just trying not to and failing. He doesn't want to, but the more he gets squared away now, the more time he'll have left to be with people, instead of doing this. And it's... going. Not well, but it's going. The only problem is he doesn't have enough suitcases, and they aren't nearly big enough, or maybe just not the right kind.

Cut for packing woe )

Some things *cough*, he can carry in his head, of course, even if he didn't get a picture. Thing is, the thing is that ... he's going to have to carry all of what matters most in his head.

Because there's no room in his luggage for the whole damned island, or even a miniature giraffe no matter how weetiny he is, and the one thing Xander would leave everything behind for if he could make it fit...


Stupid Samsonite.

[For Bridge.]
soldtoarmenians: (computer)
Xander was sort of just sitting in bed checking e-mail, as you do, since somebody else wasn't awake and despite the ice cream-and-leftover-birthday-cake remedy he'd brought back last night, somebody else was in theory still sleeping off a headache.

Subject: New E-Mail Address, Poke, I'm Home, Poke, Rats I No Longer Have, Poke, Various, Poke, Sundry

Dear Xander )

*blinkblink* Xander hit reply and was about to open with asking if she was okay with the thing with the thing no longer being a thing, given other things with things and how they were no longer things, and other people's similar things with things, but then for some reason he became very interested in the fact that Bridge seemed to have a new freckle on his left wrist just below the edge of his glove, and by the time he started typing, he'd forgotten completely about whatever he was going to ask. Huh.

Dear Willow )

Dear Willow )

[Not open for IC interaction; teal dear and others are welcome to stop by and let your eyes glaze over OOC-ly. Bridgemodding with permission zomg.]
soldtoarmenians: (computer)
Crazy week? Doesn't even begin to cover it. There'd been running into Conner, Anders, and Z, which had lead to a trip to Caritas on Wednesday, then trying to convince Bridge he needed to OMG specify when complaining about teachers who made him take his shirt off in class on Thursday, then a picnic and later sneaking off from the Seahorse campfire on Friday. Then Saturday he'd been having a very nice wake-up call until they realized somebody'd stolen their voices, leading to much worried checking on people, being trapped in the dorms for the night and eventually a crazy-late chat-room experience -- followed by another night locked in the dorms on Sunday. Not that locked in the dorms was bad, per se, but everybody locked in the dorms and going stir-crazy from worry was an experience Xander could live without repeating.

So it really isn't too surprising that it's taken until now, when they're safe again, have their voices back and are back in the cabins, for Xander to get around to remembering that last week, he'd promised to um. Do something. For um. Somebody.

Which leaves him sitting in his alcove in Flamingo cabin with the curtain shut and headphones on, staring at his laptop. As you do when you're doing that particular something. In a cabin.

[For Bridge, for the moment. Possibly for later appearance by certain other peoples]
soldtoarmenians: (computer)
He hadn't exactly snuck out (and up, and dear God did Xander hope nobody had been around to take secret squirrel footage of him scrambling up here with a laptop in a bag over his shoulder and almost falling on his ass) to avoid anybody in particular. Just... everybody in general, really. Because maybe it would be easier to think clearly up here -- or at least maybe the wireless signal would be stronger.

So of course he's sitting crosslegged on the roof, not looking at his computer screen and continuing to try not to think.

[For Bridge, though arguably anybody around or in Flamingo could at least be aware Xander's up here.]
soldtoarmenians: (1-neutral)
After a handwavily arranged meeting in Veronica's room that had led to an evening of tentacles and fake ghosts, Xander's more than happy to get back to his own room, even if he isn't the one most liberally doused with tentacle juice.

[For the bf, omg. NFB; approaches NWS but does not quite get there before the curtain falls.]
soldtoarmenians: (Default)
When Xander finally wandered home from the campfire outside Snake Cabin, he found an envelope on his bed, attached to a small cardboard box. That was... not entirely usual, but not nearly as bizarre as the small brown owl sitting next to Jeremiah's tank, looking quizzically through the plastic at the frog, who stared just as quizzically back.

"Um. Hi?" Because for all he knew it was one of his cabinmates, who'd decided to disturb the wrong bird's nest today or something.

The owl actually rolled its eyes at him, then fluttered down to land next to the letter. Xander took the hint and opened it. )
{leeeeeenkdrop omg}
soldtoarmenians: (1-laugh)
The kind on real paper.

Dear Willow: )
soldtoarmenians: (Default)
Xander entered through the wood-side door, two bags over his shoulder and Jeremiah's tank in his opposite hand. Looking around for roomies and/or empty spaces, he saw plenty of the second, but only one sign of the first, so far, just inside the door.

"Hey, Cal. You good with me as a neighbor?" He pointed to the opposite space. "Or are we looking at guys' side and girls' side?"

{Open to other Pink Croquet Mallet Bird residents, yis. Or visitors.}
soldtoarmenians: (Default)
[aka Linkdrop of Ultimate Lazy, because zomg threads on threads, and am not attempting to weave this into an e-mail or IC format.]

Graduation (Monday the 8th)

Xander was most likely to what? ...Okayfairenoughpossibly. Meanwhile, whoa, Spydaddy Principal Bristow was out in the audience. So was Willow , of course, talking to Isabel, Bridge, some alien-or-demon-guy who kept pointing at Ivanova, and, Xander was fairly sure he should be worried about this, Parker. Oh yeah, there was also some processing, diploma-accepting, giant-gremlin-fighting and partying. As you do. At graduations.

Welcome Party (Tuesday the 9th)

After picking up his new first floor room assignment, Xander ended up meeting someone who said she was Buffy's sister, and breaking his principal-streak, letting Rory know what he knew about her and you-know-who except not that you-know-who, and meeting Bridge's new fellow SPD cadet. And breaking her brain.
soldtoarmenians: (weesleepy)
Unsent letter, written on the back of an Art History handout, in green highlighter ink. Mostly illegible, of course, but this is what Xander thinks it says:

Deer Willow: )
soldtoarmenians: (idea)


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


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


Creature Languages wherein there is Lobster Rod Rock.

soldtoarmenians: (computer)
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: (1-serious)
But, you know, a little more after classes than that other after classes over in Janet's room.

Today the Music of Pain was Ray Stevens. Who was allegedly non-depressing, and only sometimes country, and fell under the MoP umbrella only because this was Beside Myself, which had 1.5 decent songs on it, and neither of them was Butterfly Inside A Coupe DeVille which was currently playing because Xander couldn't be assed to get up and hit skip.

{Locked to zie roommate, ohyes. Contents of discussion NFB; any sudden and moody departures -- *whistles* -- fair game.}
soldtoarmenians: (1-neutral)
{In completely unexciting form...}

Magical Theory.
E-Mail from Veronica re Logan's Birthday party on Friday.
First rehearsal of a Midsummer Night's WTF.
Oh look listen: Radio
soldtoarmenians: (Default)
Morning announcements and a brief reaction thereunto.
Creature Languages. What is it with this 'quiz' thing, man? Seriously harshing the melon here.
Lunch where Xander wasn't.
E-mail from Parker about today's I-club not-meeting.
E-mail from Veronica about the Investigative section meeting after all.
6th period in the TA Lounge where weirdness abounds. Because that narrows things down... Ok, ghostly weirdness, according to Angela.
I-Club investigative team meeting - wherein Xander talked about hookers with the Tick. As you do.
soldtoarmenians: (tilt)
After returning from Creature Languages, Xander sighed, and settled down to cleaning up at least some of the debris from this morning's Great Muppet Chicken Capers. He glanced up at Jeremiah, who regarded him calmly from his tank. "You know, considering you just hid in there and let Isabel and me defend our territory when they attacked, you'd think you'd at least offer to help with the cleanup..." he said jokingly.

The fact that Jeremiah stuck his tongue out just then had to be complete coincidence.

"Whatevah...." Xander pulled yet another muppet feather out from behind Jeremiah's tank, and rolled his eyes. The things were everywhere - he could probably stuff a pillow with what he'd collected so far, though he'd rather just stuff whoever thought it was a brilliant idea to let them loose in the dorms into a pillow, and drop them from the 4th floor common room window...

He turned at a knock on his door. "If you're a vampire or a muppet chicken, you're not invited. Otherwise, come on in; it's unlocked... )

{NFB. Locked to [ profile] veronicamars1; pre-played via e-mail, and still going on in the comments.}
soldtoarmenians: (Default)
{backdated, purely for linky historical purposes.}

After hitting Study Hall and Journalism (where the topic of the day was a very ironic 'punctuality,' Xander headed back to his room to work on his final interview project for Journalism, and wait for Veronica to show up and interview him.

Also somewhere on campus, there were goings-on between Logan Echolls and a certain now-missing wrestling coach, wherein Xander's name might also have been taken in vain. But those wouldn't be of interest to anybody, because they're totally legit goings-on. For a class that they don't have.


soldtoarmenians: (Default)

January 2007

 123 456
14 15 16 17181920


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 23rd, 2017 02:14 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios