needsaparrot: (wtf)
So you'd think with the day off from the construction site, Xander would be able to have a nice relaxing time - sleep in, kick back, put the cell on silent, watch some tv, right? Well, it had started that way. Then he checked his voicemail.

First there was a prank-call from Mel, which he had to admit got him for a second. Then one from a complete stranger asking to partake of his skills in girl-talk. Which was... sort of a compliment, he guessed?

Then the offer of not-in-public OMGWTFNO from that wizard kid, which he had to call Bridge about becausesdkj see OMGWTFNO, then the bowling invite which was actually nice, even if he didn't recognise the voice. Maybe Dawn would fill him in on who it was, since he passed it on to her. Then Isabel asking if he wanted some Gatorade, which again, nice, if random. Not that she'd ever come over with it after he called her back.

Just when he'd thought they were getting less weird, there was the call from the kid who captured his twinkie (*) which was less of the OMGWTFNO and more of the WOW HI AWKWARD and FLAIL but also aww, and he had to think about his reply for a while before he knew what to say.

And then bang zoom, straight into the OMGWTFWTFWTF with a message from Bridge, and no answer when he tried to call back to find out what was going on.

And then there was what was clearly a wrong number from Peter but added worries about his BFF's relationship to Xander's concern about his own, and following that....

Well, following that was the Mountie who clearly got hit on the head by an I-beam this morning which left Xander feeling guilty about not being at the site, and following that was the one that is responsible for Xander's current state of staring in wide-eyed horror at his phone - because THAT is so not Bridge. Not that he doesn't kind of wish Bridge would call him and say something like that, but it's NOT, so... asdfghjkl!

__
[OOC: Open for that one dude. You know, him.]
needsaparrot: (phone)
This? Is the sound of Xander checking the voicemail he'd turned off when he walked into the clinic to see Bridge last night, and hadn't turned back on until after Bridge had checked out tonight. It's also the sound of the universe assuring Xander that not all of his premature gray hair will be caused by the same person. Just most.

_
[ooc: Just establishy.]
needsaparrot: (ducking head)
That noise coming from Xander's apartment wasn't the rhythmic thumping of a head against a wall this time. It was the sound of a guy singing in the shower about ordinary days. Loudly. So loudly that he didn't hear the phone on the bathroom counter proving that Simon and Garfunkel made a really crappy counterpoint to Great Big Sea.

Until he stepped out, wiped the steam off the mirror, and had to fumble for the cell with wet fingers before it buzzed itself off the countertop.

Then there was an outgoing call.

Then came the thumping.

__
[OOC: open for a specific call, but if anybody feels like dealing with him before then, he'll answer the door. He'll just be a basketcase.]
needsaparrot: (ducking head)
This? Would be the sound of Xander's head rhythmically beating against the wall of his living room. Just in case anybody wondered. It was a real wall, at least; good craftsmanship. No sign of a dent.
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.]

November 2011

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