needsaparrot: (with Buffy)
Xander's in the kitchen, being thinky. And cooking. Which mostly consists of poking at the food synthesizer to see what wacky-but-still-edible things he can get it to make, since he knows better than to trust himself with an actual stovetop while engaging in thinkiness.

It's not bad thinkiness, necessarily - despite the construction project being over, and the last week of it being tainted with Umbridge-related nastiness, they had put the school back together. And Umbridge was gone. Resoundingly, loudly gone. Yay.

But other people are going to be gone too, which less with the yay. And, well. Thinky.
________________________________________
[OOC: for the less-than-pleased BF]
needsaparrot: (hi there)
While the Policeman's ball had been a fun ending to a productive week, and Monday had even started well, Xander's anniversary this month? DO NOT WANT.

Which is why, now that Bridge is feeling better, Xander's got his apartment all set up for a romantic evening.

You know. Pizza, highly-caffeinated soda, Galaxy Quest dvds.

__
[OOC: for the obvious person-type person.]
needsaparrot: (sitting)
After a week full of encounters, some of them less awkward than others and at least one a lot less expected than others, Xander was alone.

More specifically, he was sitting alone at the small table in his kitchen, with a beer and a box.

The tv out in the den was playing something old enough to have a laugh track and familiar enough that he wasn't really listening to it. He'd just left it on for the noise.

You'd think he'd be out there watching, since it wasn't like he was doing anything else productive, like going through the box. He was just sitting there in the kitchen, slowly sipping his beer and flipping through the first thing he'd found packed at the top of the box: a photo album.
__
[OOC: for a certain returning wayfarer, yis]
needsaparrot: (handyman)
After talking with Cally outside, Xander ended up spending a lot more time in the garage than he'd thought he would. Cleaning tools up and putting them away, trying out a few of the machines already up there, poking at the box for the model Bridge had given him to see if he had all the necessary tools to put it together.

Not exactly a bustling social activity, but he'd had plenty of that already this week, what with waking up with company, going out for coffee and on patrol, spending time in the office enjoying the nice view, hitting Caritas and...yeah.

Sometimes it was nice to relax with something familiar, be someplace where -- unlike everyplace else on the island - he was sure of what he was doing.
__
[ooc: for a particular visitor, lala. Also it always said afternoon, yes.]
needsaparrot: (z-wee-sleepy)
Xander had a Very Exciting Weekend. He got to call 'Bossa on the radio and make skettis in the Common Room with Bridge and Pippi and Willow and Dawn and Mel and Evie and Alanna and Aly who threw sketti and then he got to sleep in Bridge's room and then he went to Maureeeeeeeeeeeeeeen's room and played with Aly and Jeremiah and a bunny and a puppy and and and... a boy with blue eyes and then Bridge came and he was worried which was bad but Xander said he was sorry so it was okay and then Isabel came and lots and lots of people needed hugs which are good but they can wear you out even if you're Almost Six and Too Big For Naps and also there were cookies and then there was a puppet show and then he came home to His Apartment that was Really Really His which was Apartment Zero like his friend who has pretty hair with lots of colors.

And now he's tucked up in a Really Big Bed 'cause even though he's Almost Six and Too Big For Naps, Xander is okay with sleeptimes 'cause even grownups have sleeptimes even if they're later than kid sleeptimes and grownups don't even ever have nearly as Very Exciting Weekends as kids do. So he's good as long as he has his froggie and a nightlight and Bridge isn't going away. "You're not goin' away, right?"
needsaparrot: (thinky)
Waiting around to hear from certain people who dropped major bombshells on him then ran off to spend the weekend someplace that might possibly have corpses? Why no. Alternating that with worry about other people, just for a change of pace? Of course not.

After all, Xander'd had a busy week. He'd rented two apartments (three if you counted the one for the chalk), met or re-met a bunch of very pretty interesting arms people, and been called cute on the radio. Plenty to think about that wasn't corpse-related.

So not thinking about that. At all. Nope.

[OOC: for a couple of returning wayfarers.]
needsaparrot: (looking up - seated)



Or possibly shortly before first period, if you still measured things that way.

"Hey. I let you sleep as long as I could, but this is kind of where you get off."

Xander blinked and opened his eye muzzily to catch a nice view of the ceiling of a luxury stretch Honda Civic. An unopened manila folder was still clutched in his hand, he noted. He'd barely functioned well enough when he got off the plane to find the arrivals desk, figure out which car was waiting for him, and crash in the back-seat while the driver loaded his luggage. Reading faxed printouts or checking his e-mail was somewhere up there with advanced physics at this point; he hadn't even been awake enough to remember to turn on his phone.

"I checked your stuff in at the hotel, but you'll have to walk on up there by yourself," the driver was saying. Xander shifted and stretched to find that the only thing in the car with him was his laptop bag, propped under his arm, and the folder. "End of the road for anything bigger than a golf cart."

"...golf cart?" That'd be about when Xander opened the door and looked outside.

He was pretty sure his driver said something to him after that. Possibly there was even a tip involved. Possibly the biggest tip the guy had ever received, or maybe a drycleaning receipt; he couldn't be sure. Xander was too busy walking and staring, a bag over his shoulder and a manila folder in his hand.

Right about then, a few e-mails went out. Too bad he doesn't know that. )



[OOC 2: Just establishy. He'll be in town, lalala.]

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