Room 210, Saturday Morning

So Ezra hadn't been around much lately. Or the entire last week and a half or so. Boston business. Very boring. Nothing he wanted to get into with anyone. And anyway, he was back now. Fresh from the shower and roaming his room without a shirt on.

(Pants, though. Those he was wearing. You were welcome, random passers-by.)

(Or he was sorry. Depended on each passer-by's individual tastes. No judgment here.)

Time for him to stare into his closet with a thoughtful look on his face for a while. He didn't know what he'd be getting up to today, so how was he supposed to know what shirt to pick? Honestly. Maybe he needed to pick a shirt and let that guide him in picking his activities for the rest of the day.

[ooc: Look who's trying to get back into being around as well as being awake! Open door/post!]