handwavily sent out e-mails letting people know his new cellphone number if they didn't have it already, and his UC Sunnydale e-mail address, and... when he's leaving. Which he finally has to say 'tomorrow morning' about instead of 'Friday' because they're one and the same.
Now... he's still packing. Posters, folders, last-minute items and just stuff he wanted to leave up for as long as possible to make the room acknowledge that for now, he still lives here. Every so often he and Bridge are taking a break to look at pictures or watch a dvd, because at this point he's on the flipside of where he was yesterday: if he packs too fast, the room'll be empty, and Xander can't quite take that, not yet.
You can't really say Jeremiah's taking a break; he'd have to have been working in the first place for that to be true. He's just going back and forth between supervising the packing and supervising the loafing.
The door is open. Xander's yearbook is on the desk next to Jeremiah, for anyone who feels like signing it.
[Open all day, or ping in tomorrow if needed since some importantomg people are unfortunately afk today. Good for slowplay until... it's done.]
[For willbedone and the b-word-person. NFB due to omg sekrits.]
So of course one of the few things he hasn't done with it in the weekend that's passed since he got it is the one thing it was designed to do: make a phone call.
He's staring at it now. Kind of working on that.
( cut for phone call )
[pre-played with bridge_carson; no interaction as Xander's taking off and Bridge-mun is afk. That Xander called home is okay for broadcast; unexpected guest on the other end of the line, no.]
He was trying to make sure that every minute he had left in Fandom this summer counted. Xander had the feeling someone like Willow wouldn't see it that way, because she'd be trying to cram every possible experience known to humankind into this last month, but... he was good with small and slow and relaxed, so when he remembered this, he'd remember loving it.
So food and fun in the fake snow, a comfortingly familiar dinner in an unfamiliar place, drinking games, making a rare trip to Caritas by himself when Bridge hadn't been feeling well, spending time on the beach with Rory, Callisto and Bridge, teaching his workshop, hanging out in the Common Rooms, playing carnival games and riding the Ferris Wheel with Bridge... It was as close to just right as anything with 'this last month' involved in its description was ever going to be. Not ever enough, but... right.
[*And no mental wherewithal to turn it into an e-mail, so yay lazy narration. Not open for interaction as he's about to wander off to the Common Room.]
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.]
[For Bridge, yis. Gets...bordering on NWS. Which begins to sound familiar. *starts next evening post at noon*]
So he did that. There might even have been Bouncy Cleaning Music playing, and a frog rolling his eyes.
[For willbedone, but others are welcome to come by earlier or later.]
[For the bf, omg. NFB; approaches NWS but does not quite get there before the curtain falls.]
Pippi made pancakes, Walter dished toppings, and Xander (as well as a hungover Bridge) was there to consume them, because he's a nice guy like that. He also talked to Willow and Cally.
There was Scoobying, during which Lana fled in tears, Bridge discovered something was haunting her, and Willow offered to help research it.
Later, Xander went to Bridge's room with him to pick up some stuff to take back to 121 for a while, because the ghost thing was really spooking (arf arf) him. A trip to the Common Room even later didn't really help much with that.
Xander stopped by Veronica's room and told her what he knew about the First Evil, which was just enough to indicate that it probably wasn't behind the hauntings, and found out that Willow might have helped pin down the thing that was.
Xander shared his complete lack of helpful knowledge again, in reponse to an e-mail from Nadia.
...*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.]
He opened it carefully, or as carefully as his splinted-up hand would allow.
Butterbeer, pumpkin juice, and flobberworm larvae (dead). Joy.
He opened up his laptop. ( Dr Willo: )
Xander muttered into his pillow. "Lemme sleep, dude. Busy day yesterday." It had been; after an e-mail from Rory, he'd headed to the library to help research, where he'd been pleased to see at least someone had been paying attention in Scoobying, had an unwelcome attack of deja vu when Tyler revealed that there were mummies involved in this week's spate of weirdness, and accidentally ended up talking to Dawn about porn. As you do.
Then there'd been the meeting in Rory's room, where he'd volunteered his computer for the support team, and himself for the fighting. After which he'd
So the second "Ribbit!" which was quickly joined by a third, and then a fourth, was less than welcome. "It's not that late! I'll get you breakfast innaminute. Rarr."
"RIBBIT!" Right in his ear.
Xander turned his head and opened his eyes.
"Ribbit!" said the little green frog on his pillow. "Rbblrt brrrrrum!" said the little green frog next to the little green frog on his pillow.
"CROAK!" said Jeremiah, from his tank.
"...WTF?" said Xander, and sat up, blinking.
Five minutes later, he was scooting them out the door, but for every frog he dumped out into the hallway, another seemed to take its place.
[...No I am not playing with myself in the comments zomg. Haven't you ever seen a guy talking to his frog before? ...that be not a euphemism.]
Dear Willow, continued.
... he is if we go by the 'one date and everybody starts calling you that so might as well go with the flow' method, which is popular around here.
Sorry, meant to finish this last night and send it today, but Bridge turned into a ferret. Then there were gnomes, then I had to explain to five million people (Veronica + Piper + Callisto + Rory + Other You + Very Polite Japanese Girl Whose Name I Have No Idea How To Spell + Jack + Nadia + Alanna And Her Evil Cat + D'anna = 5,000,000) how I have no idea why Bridge is a ferret, and then there was poi.
So it's been kind of a day.
P.S. What's the chance of getting some butterbeer and -- I didn't ask, just smiled and nodded -- pumpkin juice shipped over here? Isabel wants to treat one of the new kids to the comforts of home.
Xander saved, closed his laptop, and set it on the chest of drawers beside Jeremiah's tank. Then he grinned at the furry form already curled into a tiny ball on his pillow, and turned out the light for bed.
"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. )
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.