soldtoarmenians | Entries tagged with e-mail

From: xharris@ucsd.edu

( Dear Bridge, Rory, Dawn, and Willow: )

( Dear Parker, Cal, Anders, and Rory: )

( Dear Bridge, Sam, Nadia, and John: )

( Dear Bridge: )

From: xharris@ucsd.edu

( Dear Dawn and Bridge: )

( Dear Angela: )

( Dear Bridge, Parker, Rory and Nadia: )

From: xharris@ucsd.edu

( Dear Bridge, Parker, Isabel, Willow, and Dawn: )

( Dear Bridge: )

( Dear, uh, everybody )

Current Location: sunnydale

From: xharris@ucsd.edu

( Dear Dawn: )
( Dear Dawn: )
( Dear Bridge: )

From: xharris@ucsd.edu

( Dear Isabel: )

( Dear Willow: )

( Dear Bridge: )

( Dear Bridge, Parker, and John: )

( Angel plus question )

To: bridge.carson@fandomhigh.net
From: xharris@ucsd.edu
Subject: Happy Anniversary

( Dear Bridge: )

( Then... (...omglong) )

To: bridge.carson@fandomhigh.net
From: xharris@ucsd.edu
Subject: Happy Anniversary

( Dear Bridge: )

Current Mood: melancholy
Current Location: the espresso pump and points west

To: dawn.summers@fandomhigh.net
From: xharris@ucsd.edu
Subject: Hey

( Dawn: )
[...and time, she actually starts speeding up, yis.]

Current Mood: thoughtful

To: bridge.carson@fandomhigh.net
From: xharris@ucsd.edu
Subject: Sending this anyway

( Bridge: )

Current Location: outside and yes he has a stake- he's depressed not suicidal

To: xharris@ucsd.edu
From: lblaisdell@ucsd.edu
Subject: Econ

( Dude, where were you yesterday? )
( Then... )
__
[Apologies to Riley whose schtick I have stolen, but he is not here to do it and I feel confident he'd be pleased to have Xander act in his stead.]

Current Mood: depressed
Current Location: sunnydale

To: bridge.carson, m.parker, isabel.evans, willow.rosenberg, dawn.summers, alanna.trebond, samuel.anders, rory.gilmore, john.crichton, d'anna.biers, angela.chase, martin.blank, veruca.cally, samantha.carter, nadia.santos, alex.krycek, jake.gavin, peter.pevensie, skankzero.hopelesssavage /// @fandomhigh.net, veronica.mars@hearst.edu

( Dear, uh, everybody )
( He was about to hit send, when... )

Current Mood: restless
Current Location: sunnydale

( Dear Parker )
( reply: )
( An hour later... )

To: bridge.carson@fandomhigh.net
From: xharris@ucsd.edu
Subject: Hi

( Bridge: )

Current Mood: blank

( Dear Willow )

...well that killed... five minutes. Xander sighed. If he stayed in this room much longer, he was going to end up vacuuming the bedspread, he realized. Not that he could by any stretch of the imagination be described as a cleaning-freak - he'd just been trying to make the place reasonably nice for this evening, which in Xanderese meant 'at least not a disaster area.' Somehow that turned into a battle with the stuff he'd spilled all over while working on his project thingy, though, and in the age-old war between humans and glitter, it ain't ever the monkeyboys that win. The fact that Bridge was off with his Flight workshop and the whole non-disaster-area effort was in fact for his benefit wasn't exactly helping Xander avoid obsessing, either.

So he seriously needed to get out of here before he went stir-crazy. Town could be a thing.
__
[Linkdrop ahoy, no interaction here because he's off to watch SoaP!]

A beep distracted Xander from the project he was working on, and he set it aside for a moment, going to the desk and opening his e-mail window.

To: xander.harris@fandomhigh.net
From: wrosenberg@ucsd.edu
Subject: Hi!
( Dear Xander )

Xander blinked and typed up a ( reply )

Then he went back to his bed, where the contents of his project were spread out across the blanket.

__
[Open, though I'm madly combatting a potential worm, so if I disappear unexpectedly it's because I had to re-start.]

Current Location: room 121

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.

To: xander.harris@fandomhigh.net
From: wrosenberg@ucsd.edu
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.]

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Location: bed

( Dear Willow: )
_
( Dear Xander: )

Current Location: the internets

( Dear Willow: )

Xander put his laptop aside, and considered the question of whether he was awake enough to hunt down Bridge and get some breakfastlunchdinner. It was, after all, a lot of effort... Still, food could be good. He turned his head and poked the shoulder next to him. "Hey. Wake up."

( Dear Willow: )
( Dear Xander: )
( Dear Willow: (sent from the computer lab) )
( Dear Xander: )

Current Mood: wtf-ing f?
Current Location: the computer lab but not for long

( Dear Willow: )
( Dear Xander: )

Current Location: the internets

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.]

Current Mood: sleepy
Current Location: 121