Mauvaise Chance Office/Lobby, Monday, 11/19
Xander wasn't sure if the number of twenty-years-older students roaming the island should make him nervous or curious, so he'd decided to try out the first yesterday, staying holed up in his apartment after Bridge left. Nervous had quickly turned into bored, and there were only so many times you could type "I will not disappear from all available contact and give Willow a heart-attack, nor will I die without sufficient warning filed in quadruplicate with the appropriate authorities" into an e-mail before you realized you could just use the cut and paste function to make it to the requested 1000 without getting carpal-tunnel syndrome.
So today he was trying out curious. At least as far as heading out to the office, putting out the Guy With Tools signs, kicking back with an oh-so-enthralling printout of Willow's notes on prophetic Slayer dreams, and hanging out behind the counter to see if any familiar faces wandered by. Or new ones, since those were the kind that tended to actually want apartments.
_
[OOC: Open for ladies, gentlemen, and monsters of all ages.]
So today he was trying out curious. At least as far as heading out to the office, putting out the Guy With Tools signs, kicking back with an oh-so-enthralling printout of Willow's notes on prophetic Slayer dreams, and hanging out behind the counter to see if any familiar faces wandered by. Or new ones, since those were the kind that tended to actually want apartments.
_
[OOC: Open for ladies, gentlemen, and monsters of all ages.]