MCA Roof, Saturday Morning
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.]
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.]