needsaparrot: (ooc - mpd)


And now that we have the new townies announced, I can add that I'm pleased to hand off the keys, both in and out of character, to [livejournal.com profile] nugents_shirt.

needsaparrot: (blueprints)
[Points y'all in this direction for the new owner!*]

Stuff that doesn't apply anymore )
needsaparrot: (computer)


Ray was right. Sitting down wasn't a problem. Leaning back was a problem. Which was why Xander was sprawled out on his stomach on the living room rug, tapping away at his laptop.

Dear Willow:

You missed underwear gnomes. And people being shirtless in the park. And I miss you and I got a (top secret) tattoo. These things are only indirectly related. And also something else but I invoke BFF privilege #23 to not tell you what until later in exchange for you being the first person I tell when later happens.

How's tricks by you?

love,
Xander


It would be wrong to send it to himself and BCC both of them. But not like special hell wrong, so he hit Send.

[Linkdroppy, but open for the BFF if she wants to reply!]

needsaparrot: (smile - looking down)
It's late, and it's dark, and Xander ought to be asleep. Even on a globe-hopping island, you can't party all night every night. He's got an office to open tomorrow. Calls to make, since his other business is finally picking up some speed again this summer.

He should be getting some rest -- it's not like the other person in his bed is keeping him awake. Bridge, after moving his stuff back from the cabins, dumping it in his room, then making his way across town for a late dinner, is out like the proverbial light - and the real ones too.

It's late, and it's dark, and Xander ought to be asleep, but he's not. He's sitting with his back against the headboard, the window open to let in the suddenly misty air, watching Bridge's chest rise and fall. Thinking about more people he loves leaving, growing up in another direction from the way she'd grown in another dimension, but still, up. About the fact that they'll be leaving at the end of the summer. Both of them. He'd add hopefully to that, but Xander realizes he can't picture a future that doesn't have both of them in it.

[OOC: Mostly stablishy, but also for the modded-with-permission B-word-person]
needsaparrot: (computer)
Despite Willow's closing rhyme, Xander had walked home slowly after radio, thinking about... well, a little bit of everything. Fandom weirdness. Upcoming graduations. Sooner-coming anniversaries. Nanaimo bars.

What? He had to pass Luke's Diner.

When he lets himself into the apartment, he's glad to see Bridge's jacket draped over the back of a couch, but most of the lights are out. There's a dim glow from the master bedroom, and he follows it back there, quietly pushing the door open. The lamp on the nightstand is turned down to its lowest setting, just bright enough to make out the shape of Bridge's face in sleep, half pressed into the pillow.

After this morning's wake-up call, Xander doesn't have the heart to disturb him. Instead, he just stands in the doorway for a long time, watching the shift of the covers, rising and falling to the slow, steady sound of Bridge's breath.

Finally, he turns and walks back to the living room, pulling out his laptop to tap out one last e-mail before returning to crawl under the covers himself.

To: wrosenberg@councilofwatchers.co.uk
From: purplefrog@yahoo.com
Subject: Do not ask. Never, never ask.

Dear Willow:

I didn't lick the frog. Do you know a spell to....


...love, Xander


__
[Linkstaaaablishy! B-word-person modded with permission.]
needsaparrot: (kitchen)
So after this morning, Xander had a pretty good idea what he'd end up doing with the rest of his day. And definitely wouldn't be doing with his evening. Well, actually, there are any number of things he won't be doing, like ingesting things with umbrellas, drunk-dialing Parker, reading the news, opening the office, or renovating a brothel, but if you narrow the category to Stuff One Does In One's Apartment With One's Boyfriend then it gets a little more obvious.

But hey, there are other Things One Can Do. Or, more accurately, Things Two Can Do. Like have a nice nutritious dinner.

Spaghettios are nutritious, right?

[OOC: For the wee b-word-person.]
needsaparrot: (sleepy)
Like last weekend, Xander had spent this one with his boyfriend. Unlike last weekend, said boyfriend was in no condition to do any... practice-exam-taking. As you do on Spring Break weekends. Instead, there was a lot of ice cream, ear-skritching, DVD-watching, and working up plans for a closet-remodel.

At least he still had a warm body to sleep with? Even if half the time he woke up with a furry tail tickling the end of his nose.

Which, oddly, isn't happening right now. Xander's 7/8ths asleep, so he isn't quite registering what's wrong with that, but his fingers are already patting around on the pillow reaching for something that isn't there.

"Mrrf?"
__
[OOC: For the furry tail-owner. Up early for great OMG a weekend away from RP - withdrawal! Withdrawal!]
needsaparrot: (sprawl)


Isabel had gone home after their meeting with Parker and Jarod, but Xander and Bridge had decided they'd be less wiped-out tomorrow if they stayed here instead of going back to the island. It'd have been nice if there were any rooms left at the Hyatt besides the rockstars-have-parties-in-the-jacuzzi kind, but any bed without living things besides him and Bridge in it would do, really, for one night.

At least this was a slow week, not another one filled with recovering from being taken over by somebody else for the weekend or visiting people in the clinic. Hate The Moon Day Parties and birthdays were a lot less exhausting. So was spending time with Bridge, meeting new tenants, and goofing off with old friends.

Tomorrow, though.... not so much with the goofing off. Xander flops back on the motel room bed and stretches, then sits back up, fiddling with the remote, kind of tired and wired at the same time.

[For the B-word-person. NFB due to distance, NWS due to magic fingers.]

needsaparrot: (computer)
To: wrosenberg@councilofw.co.org.uk
From: purplefrog@yahoo.com
Date: 11/12/2007

Dear Willow )
needsaparrot: (with Buffy)
Xander is doing something that... well, some people might call it cooking. Probably not people who actually know how to operate a stove, though. There's chicken, or something that started out as chicken, but then he got distracted by the pasta boiling over, and now it's the artist formerly known as chicken. And the superglue formerly known as pasta.

So... pretty much Xander's doing something that's more properly described as 'staring at his kitchen and wondering if it'd be cheating to dump the whole thing and start pressing random buttons on the food replicator.'

It's been... a day.
_____
[OOC: For the boyfriend.]
needsaparrot: (with Buffy)

Ooh look, a dining room table. With food on it.

Since he's himself again, Xander's figuring it's probably his turn to make breakfast - or in this case brunch, since he's waiting for Bridge's class to let out before feeding him. Which he's all for, because brunch is very firmly daylight, and right now? Daylight is of the good.

Somebody to eat said food would be good too.
__
[OOC: for the b-word-person. Bitey-fangy-pointy conversation topics NFB, please.]

needsaparrot: (computer)


Xander's on the couch with his laptop out, poking at the books for (Y)MCA. Damn if it hasn't been a busy month, between new tenants and repair jobs coming in. Not that he can complain; it'll give him something to answer when his fellow grads ask what he's been up to besides "went bowling, ate challah, and watched Dawn turn eighteen for the second time." That and reassure them that the fine upstanding Fandom tradition of crazy people on the radio hasn't died out.
____________________
[For ze boyfriend]

needsaparrot: (reading)
Xander had boxes at the counter. They were delivered there - that part was easy enough to explain. Why he hadn't taken the boxes away from the counter and into his apartment yet, that was a little harder. He supposed wanting to open stuff the second you got it wasn't really all that much different for 26 year old kids as it was for younger types, though. Even if they were his boxes and he ought to know what was in them, since he'd packed them. In theory, maybe; in practice? They'd been in storage for a while.

So he was sitting at the counter poking at them every so often, not sure until he opened each whether he'd find a toy surprise or his income-tax receipts from 2005.
___________
[Open for tenants, staff, and visitors, and going up early for Certain Staff Members to be able to ping in before work. I, on the other hand, am for bed.]
needsaparrot: (Default)
"So yeah, that'd be where my Slayer, the burglar, decided I'm not allowed to play with fire," Xander said, pointing to the area behind the boiler. He'd actually cleaned up the fallen plaster and chipped out the rest of it that had still hung from the ceiling, but a bin full of chunks and a whitish line on the ground still marked where it had been.

Beyond that, a long hallway stretched... )

[OOC: Preplayed with [livejournal.com profile] willbedone and [livejournal.com profile] bridge_carson. Acorns courtesy of [livejournal.com profile] likeguidelines!]
needsaparrot: (Default)
It was a wee bit nippy in the land of MCA today. So sayeth Xander's... yeah he was waaaay too mature to make that joke now. Rly. Or possibly he just sighed sadly when he realized the central heating was out, because there was nobody around to make that joke to except the frog, who was unimpressed. Oh well - doing something about it beat sitting around re-hashing the weekend and worrying about stuff he couldn't control.

The apartments above were probably still warm, but that wouldn't last if he didn't get the heat started again, so Xander left a note at the office and on his door indicating for any similarly-nipped residents that yes, he was working on it. And he was. Two floors down -- one of them stairs-only -- in the sub-basement. Flashlight in one hand and box of matches in the other, staring at the boiler and wondering where exactly the pilot-light was on this model.

As you do... )

[OOC: Closed to IC interaction; there'll be an open MCA office post later today tomorrow though. (ETA: I lied; work ate me and it seems lateish for an office post now.) Preplayed with [livejournal.com profile] lilpunkinbelly and [livejournal.com profile] cantjossme. MCA residents can feel free to either notice or ignore the brief cold snap, since it would've been fixed within the hour.]
needsaparrot: (working)
Xander had unlocked the doors up there and was checking out the facilities... but not speculatively eyeing the corner room that looked like it could easily be set up as a carpentry workshop because that would mean he was thinking things he couldn't afford to be thinking.

He'd left a note downstairs at the desk indicating where he was, just in case someone came by looking for him, and one on the door of his apartment.

__

[OOC: Locked to a couple of specific people to preserve sanity; veritable mountain of work on desk may mean bouts of SP-from-Hades-the-place.]
needsaparrot: (blueprints)


For that, you'd want to go here!

[OOC: The comments to this page are left for posterity, since they include in-character voicemails, but the MCA has been taken over by [livejournal.com profile] nugents_shirt, so questions and room requests go thataway!]

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