Room 210, Saturday Morning

[smilestopscars]

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!]

Comments

[sciclone]

"I guess that makes sense," Cosima nodded. "It's a totally different structure. It wold be strange if it worked the same, even if 'you' is the same either way."

[smilestopscars]

"Exactly." He nodded, then smirked. It was a miracle he ever really stopped. "But all I really care about is that I'm cute either way."

Also deadly. But he was less inclined to share that.

[sciclone]

He could back up the smirks, was the thing. It made them less annoying.

"Is that really all you care about?" Cosima wondered. "Would you have been devastated if I didn't think your fox self was cute?"

[smilestopscars]

Ezra held his hand to his heart in a theatrical fashion. "Yes," he said. "It would have been a tremendous blow to my self-esteem." Bullshit. "So thank you for not wounding me like that."

[sciclone]

Cosima snorted out a laugh. "I do my best," she said. "Wounded self-esteem ... some people never recover from a blow like that."