Xander Harris

"Alright, technically mine but how was I supposed to know there was no band tonight?" Xander scratches behind his ear then throws a gesture at the stage, "Just a creepy poetry slam... Eeeh..." sighing dramatically and defeated, "Yeah, at this point I'd rather be at the library. Heck, call me an optimist but I bet there's something mighty spooky going on right now and we're totally missing it."

                Gorgeous. He’s in full-on sidekick-suffragette mode and it’s got Faith rolling the heel of her hand against her temple, hoping to keep the knot in her skull from becoming the potential headache she can feel winging it’s way to her frontal lobes. “You really want an answer to that? Look, we got problems, yo. We as in ‘humanity’.. Either you know where Buffy is or you don’t. Got this nagging feeling it’s numero two and I just don’t got time to play trust games with you right now.”

"We pretty much always got problems. And hey!" Yeah, he's being a little shit but Faith just rubs him the wrong way. Especially when she keeps forgetting what a great, big deal Xander is. In theory, "We got some problems of our very own right here in Miami. On a daily basis, even. Bad things. Daily! And man, this is the first time I've seen hide nor hair of a slayer around these parts so forgive me if I'm a little wuh at the moment. I don't know where she is and this is the part where I say I don’t care."

“Looks finger-like to me.” Meanwhile Buffy’s showcasing a pretty nasty gash that covers nearly the whole of her forehead, but she won’t make a point of it because Xander’s got his own to make and what kind of best friend would she be if she didn’t listen? “Don’t worry, Xand. I’m pretty sure your prognosis scrapes just above average. You’ll live.”

"Well, yeah." Oozing all the sarcasm, Xander takes a seat on top of the library table while he carefully clutches his precious finger to his chest, "I mean, if you wanna assess the actual damage and tell it like it is, sure. Do I downplay your trauma?"

@strangeandoffputting

"I can't help it, I joke when I'm in mortal peril. Nervous habit."

             He booms, it’s loud and Faith’s casually glancing around to make sure he’s not drawing attention to them. He is, “Whoa, keep it down, Thinkenstein!” she hisses it at him under her breath. They’re getting looky-loo’s and she doesn’t like it, “Big, fat waste of time.”

Thinkenstein! “Oh haha, you’re hilarious.” Of all the nerve! Of all the... damn it, that was actually funny, "Heh. Ok, that was a pretty good one but I still have righteous anger and moral outrage, here! Just once would it kill ya to pretend to have a shred of respect for me?"

Forgiveness is my middle name. Actually, it’s LaVelle and I’d appreciate it if you guarded that secret with your life.