soldtoarmenians

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

( Dear Bridge: )
__

The Magic Box, evening

Xander found the Closed sign already up but the door unlocked, neither of which was unusual; what was a little off were the half-dimmed lights and the fact that there was nobody out front. It was Willow's night on the register; he'd have expected her to be tallying up the receipts or at least putting books away while a couple of brooms did a slightly unnerving re-enactment of the Magician's Assistant cartoon.

( Anybody home? )
__

[OOC: Cliffhanger whaa? *looks innocent* Third preplayed verse, same as the first. But not the First. That's next season. Tara courtesy, again, mparker17.]

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: )

It's a very, very nifty phone. It takes pictures. It gets the internets. It sends text messages. It... doesn't actually have a calling plan, and Xander's not looking too hard at where it's stealing its signal from, just like he's not looking too hard at how it makes, or possibly summons, Twinkies at the press of one of its many buttons, some of which he hasn't even figured out the function of yet. It might brew mochaccinos for all he knows.

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.]

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.]

( Dear Willow: )
_
( Dear Xander: )

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.]

To: xander.harris@fandomhigh.net
From: willow.rosenberg@hogwarts.ac.uk
Subject: Picture (was re: um...)

( Dear Xander )