Fray-Adjacent

September

Attack of the 50 Foot Dawn
In Which Parker Is Not A Guy

October

Homecoming: Arrival (Willow, Bridge, Z, Robin the frog)
Homecoming: Food (Cam, Alanna, Dawn, Isabel, Parker)
Homecoming Brunch (Bridge)

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.]

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.]

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.]

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

It'd been one of those weekends. If by that you mean "those weekends you dream about and then wake up promising yourself never to touch runny cheese at a college mixer ever, ever again."

Still, he had a guest, of sorts, and he might as well show her that he did something besides Apartment Managing, without showing her the other thing he did besides Apartment Managing. Which was why they were currently in the elevator heading for the roof of the building.
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[OOC: for the parental unit! B-word-person also welcome laterwards, if desired.]

This wasn't exactly what Xander had had in mind for the six-month anniversary of... there being anything to have an anniversary of, but given various conversations yesterday, it doesn't seem like something to be put off.

"Sorry, not quite the date I had planned," he says, leaning against a rather tall headstone.

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[OOC: For the boyfriend, and they'll be out of there before any other hijinx might occur, if you're planning to use the graveyard tonight. That they were here is fine for broadcast, what they were up to, not so much.]

Homecoming weekend and talking to old friends? Good.

Old friends who call to tell you about infestations of the undead? Not so good.

At this point Xander's just grateful there's at least one person he won't have to leave a voice-mail for, since he's already here.

"That's the last of them," Xander says, thumbing off his phone. "For now, anyway."
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[OOC: For Bridge, infesty discussion topics NFB, please.]