needsaparrot: (sprawl)
The weeks leading up to and following graduation had been... busy was not the word. Or well, it was one of the words, along with eventful, Fandomtastic, scary, heart-stopping, sad, worrying, nostalgia-inducing, work-filled, relieving, newsy, romantic, and occasionally MA-rated. Some of which weren't words, but whatever. It all added up to Xander not having had a chance to just flop down and vegetate in front of the tv for quite a while.

So.

Space Battles. He was almost up to the metal bikini.

[OOC: For the BFF. Will also be a linkdrop soonish, la.]
needsaparrot: (smile - looking down longhair)
If Bridge and Xander slept in really, really late and are still kind of lazing around in bed, well, it's been a long, busy week. And if they're still really, really sleepy, well, yesterday was prom night, and Xander had visiting royalty in his bed. You do the math.

[For the B-word-persons.]
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: (xanderswillow)


To: wrosenberg@councilofwatchers.co.uk
From: purplefrog@yahoo.com
Subject: Know What's Funner Than Drunk-Dialing Parker?

Letting a five year old Bridge (see attachment) drunk-dial Parker. Except for the drunk part. No, he didn't stay five, or this e-mail would start with "I didn't lick the frog. Do you know a spell to..."

What else? Yeah, I can send you the podcasts of not-you and me reading the news - not sure why I didn't think of it before. But I'll skip last week's. My gift to you, because I love you and I don't want you to die of alcohol poisoning.

Speaking of gifts, my anniversary with Bridge is coming up on Sunday. I'm thinking one year plus or minus eighty-five and some change is just not the Lego Anniversary, y'know? Got any ideas?

love,
Xander

bridge5.jpg

[Estaaaablishy/linkdroppy. Xander is over here if you need him!]

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: (ducking head)
After everything that had been going on this week, Xander knew better than to wander around town alone, but staying inside the building was making him want to wear a circular track in the lobby carpet as he read and re-read the letters from the past he'd received from Mel, Willow and Bridge, trying to see if there was some clue he was missing because he wasn't Willow or Bridge. He wasn't the brains of the operation. He was the guy who was okay with an axe and getting better with a crossbow again and awesome at providing sarcasm and pastries, none of which was going to get the people he loved back from the past.

Eventually, he shook his head and headed up to the roof, letters in hand. At least there he could get some air and maybe think a little clearer, and he'd have the best view in town; not like he wouldn't see any angel statues heading for the building, from that high up. He leaned against the waist-high wall overlooking the streets below, smoothing out Bridge's second letter, the one that made him want to punch bricks, to re-read it yet again.

[OOC: For one. Muahaha.]
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: (z-xandir-bed)
Wow, Xandir's head is fuzzy. Oh wait, there's a stuffed frog on it.

Except even after he grumbles and shakes it off, recent events are still kind of mysterious. He knows there was a party, but he can't remember much after three tequila, floor. Like where he is now because this definitely isn't his bed, or how he ended up in said bed with a stuffed frog and -- pleasedon'tbeTootpleasdon'tbeTootpleasedon'tbeToot --

Ooh.

'Well, hey there.' )

[Preplayed with [livejournal.com profile] bridge_carson. Xander has turned into Xandir P. Wifflebottom from Drawn Together; Bridge is now Enari Sen'ichi, aka Sen-chan, his green-ranger counterpart in the Japanese Dekaranger, from whence PR:SPD gets all its fight scenes. NFI, but OOC is love.]
needsaparrot: (listening2)
After sloshing out for some lunch and checking the outside of (Y)MCA to make sure the rising damp wasn't making its way into the apartments, Xander was sitting in the living room with his laptop, listening to the radio again, since the first run-through had mostly been obliterated from his memory by his momentary freakage at Broots' totally incorrect description of yesterday's TOTALLY NON-MAKING-OUT-FILLED events.

Freakage slightly less now that he noted the ongoing theme of 'squirrels gone wild' in last night's broadcast, but still.
__
[OOC: For a phone call. ETA: and a visitor, la]
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: (looking up - seated)
You know that blissful moment when you've just woken up and you register you're awake, but none of the previous day has yet filtered into your consciousness, so you just lie there and enjoy the silence, maybe stretch a bit?

Yeah, that didn't last long. Also it's really hard to lie there when you wake up sitting on a couch. He didn't have a lot of time to creak and groan, though. As soon as the memories poured in and the omigodomigodomigod started, there were calls to make.

It's actually also pretty difficult to download the radio podcast on your phone while facepalming and trying not to smell the half-empty glass of blood on the coffee table in front of you, though Xander managed that one somehow.

__
[Linkdroppy/stablishy only.]

November 2011

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