Ezra Sagishi (
smilestopscars) wrote2015-06-13 05:06 pm
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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!]
(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!]
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"Aw, come on, big guy, come back. I'm not sorry because you did just call me an idiot, but I still think stomping off is a little uncalled for."
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Maybe he was allergic to bullshit after all.
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He turned around again, resuming his walk to his room.
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That went well.