Room 227 [Saturday Night/Sunday Morning]

[bridge_carson]

Well, Xander and Bridge have made it through Prom.

And now, look, they've made it to Bridge's room.

Comments

[soldtoarmenians]

Xander catches it suprisingly agilely for somebody with shoe-location issues, and grins.

"Nah, it's early. I'm working my way up to that. Thought I'd start with stuff that doesn't actually require standing." He pokes at the phone experimentally, noting that yeah, just a wee bit more hi-tech than you'd find back home.

"I kind of owe Willow a detail."

[bridge_carson]

"Ooh, right," Bridge nods. "So whatcha gonna tell her this time?"

[soldtoarmenians]

Xander scratches his head, and looks, well, it's probably too early in the morning to manage 'shifty' and so he has to settle for sheepish.

"I was thinking maybe not telling, so much as -- how do I send a picture on this thing?"

[bridge_carson]

"The little button with the picture of a camera on it," Bridge says with a shrug. "Should bring up a menu? And then you put in the email address and type a message if you want."

[soldtoarmenians]

"Fine, way to make it all logical and stuff..."

Xander typed, or, well, poked, because weetiny buttons, for a bit. With time out for scrolling through pictures and minor freakage at the fact that cellphones do not per se come with a delete key. No, the back button is just not the same.

From: 335.555.7247
To: willow.rosenberg@hogwarts.ac.uk

From Xander. Borrowed phone. Detail. See attached.

Attachment: cam064.jpg

Right, so, Send.

Or possibly breathe first, then Send.

[bridge_carson]

Bridge waits for a minute, and then, because he remembers how quickly Willow's replies came during art class, asks,

"She say anything yet?"

[soldtoarmenians]

"Not so much, no," Xander replies, staring at the phone.

[bridge_carson]

Bridge just shrugs. "Well, it's like, evening-time or something there, isn't it? Maybe she's not at her computer."

[soldtoarmenians]

"She usually manages to make the time of day match up, don't ask me how." Xander glances absently at his watch. "I guess once you set your computer up to send messages eight years into the future, you're not exactly duct-taped to Greenwich Mean Time."

[bridge_carson]

"This is true," Bridge nods, having experience with doing so himself.

[soldtoarmenians]

Xander sets down the phone on the bed and swings his feet over the side. "I could... look for my shoes, I guess. That could happen."

He's glancing back at the phone as much as he's looking at the floor, though, so it's probably a good thing he doesn't take more than a few steps, lest he fall on his ass.

[bridge_carson]

Bridge frowns thoughtfully as he watches Xander.

"You okay, dude? You seem a little..." Bridge waves a hand vaguely.

[soldtoarmenians]

"Shoeless?" Xander really can't find his shoes, which is kinda sad, because they're right there under the edge of the bed where he kicked them.

[bridge_carson]

"They're right there," Bridge says, pointing under the bed. "What's up? You didn't accidentally send that picture of me in the pink bedsheet toga from last semester, did you? 'Cause that would be embarassing. I don't know why I didn't just delete that."

[soldtoarmenians]

Xander retrieves his shoes. And glances at the phone.

"I didn't --- pink toga?" He shoots Bridge a look of distracted WTF, then... glances at the phone. "No, I, um. Sent the picture Isabel took."

[bridge_carson]

"Ethics class. Quinn made me wear a toga and sleep in the hallway and she called me 'Manuel' for some reason I can't figure out."