soldtoarmenians

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]

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.

Love, Xander.

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.

Xander, after a long nap in his own bed, emerged from the shower a little more awake, if not less braindead. Certainly cleaner, at least, and a toothbrush and some minty-somethingorother took care of the remains of the funeral party in his mouth, even if the construction was still proceeding loudly in his skull.

He came out of the bathroom in clean clothes to find Isabel had taken off to set up for her game night party, and headed for his desk to see if he couldn't find another handful of Excedrin to file that final cease and desist order for the noisy carpenters.

__
{ooc - for Parker; conversation NFB, though the fact that she was there is fair game.}