Just Random Stuff

- Ezra Bennett

- 26

- Bipolar I Disorder

- Crime(s): Aggravated Assault, Attempted Kidnapping, Robbery.

- Grace "Gideon"

- 24

- A Patriot (Rebel) who supported the independence of of the United States.

Mick's Place, otherwise known as simply Mick's, was a place that Ezra only frequented when desperate and out of options. The small club was popular amid university students, a population that Ezra could not seem to stand, likely due to his own academic failures. He was close to earning a degree in history when his own mind turned on him and ruined the chance at success that he seemed so close to. Nevertheless, it only seemed to be a matter of time, and some would even argue that his descent into madness was ultimately inevitable. Though whether it was a chemically inflicted madness, or whether it was the work of the Devil himself, it simply depended on who was asked what caused Ezra to become who he was today. If you were to ask him, which no one ever did, he wouldn't even acknowledge the madness that occupied his mind. All he could focus on was the madness that occupied his life.

Coming to Mick's, though not his first choice in venue, was a way for him to decompress. He would sit at the bar and order a beer; sometimes something stronger, though that was usually not the case. Not while at Mick's, anyways. The bartender, Vivian, would talk to him throughout the evening, until Mick would show up and talk to Ezra for a few minutes. Mick was always personable like that, conversing with his patrons, though Ezra could care less if he never met the man. He only came for the cheap alcohol and the pretty women, not the conversations or the company. If he wanted either of the two, he would go elsewhere, where the people were older and far more interesting. Hell, even in the psychiatric unit people were far more interesting than these dull and monotonous university students. Most of these people didn't even know what it was like to experience profound failure or pain, and perhaps that is also why Ezra seemed to resent them so much.

Slumped in the chair with his hand placed lightly around his glass of beer, he watched silently as Vivian danced to the music behind the counter. She seemed so happy and full of life, and he wondered for a moment, how wonderful that must have felt. To dance to music like the rest of the world wasn't there; that was something Ezra could not remember ever doing. Perhaps the only time he ever danced remotely like that was while intoxicated. With a sigh he brought the glass up to his lips and tilted it back, taking a large gulp and nearly finishing it off. Vivian was already pouring him another glass when he swallowed, eyes flickering to his side where a man sat. The young man, who looked around his age--though nowhere like him in a personality sense--seemed to be talking to him. With the music booming, and the drunken laughter breaking through the air, Ezra could hardly hear him, though he made no movement. Maybe the man would fuck off like most did but with the expression on his face, he knew that was not going to be the case.

Ezra scoffed at his words. "I'm not a student, if that's what you mean. At least not anymore." he replied rather coldly, shooting the man a look before taking a further look of who it was exactly that sat near him. The man could've passed as a student, with his features still young but outlined in maturity. He was attractive, there was no denying, though every sense that Ezra pulled from him made him hesitant. The man reeked of money, with the way that he dressed, and the way that his features seemed so... innocent and sheltered in stark contrast to his own tattered look. But there was something about the man that caused Ezra to further engage in the conversation, asking him, "What about you? Sitting at the bar alone like you don't know anybody here."

The man, who never once mentioned his name, seemed to talk for what seemed like several minutes. Ezra hardly listened; zoning out when the man talked about economics and his lack of a substantial career. He had only ever met one person who was devoted to the education of economics, and that was his father. The old man, who was a pastor, believed that it was fundamentally important to know the economics of your homeland. He would sit him and his brother down once a week and discuss economic matters with the two of them so that they were educated on the state of their country, though Ezra never understood it. Still, to this day, he does not know much, nor does he care to learn. The only concept that seemed to interest him was the concept of time and history; learning about the past while living in the present and dreaming about the future. His parents would treat him to history lessons, though these lessons were only biblical in nature. He would have to learn on his own the other areas of history that his parents considered unimportant. And, overtime, he had also attained a knack for reading and writing.

Ezra looked over at the man, shooting him a serious expression as he took the time to decipher whether his last comment was an insult or simply a joke. "I've never been to Denny's." he replied cooly, suddenly remembering the one time that he was given a... sexual experience in the parking lot of a Denny's. That was the first and last time he has ever been so close to one, and he didn't care to get any closer. His mother and father would always recall the story of how they went to Denny's on a date after church, when a homeless man died right by the door as they were walking in. They watched as a coroner loaded him into the back of the van as they ate. And a few hours later, they ended up with food poisoning. Ezra always thought that it must've been karma, if not a sign from God to be kinder, but he always kept his mouth shut. Because speaking on that matter would have meant more punishment than it was worth.

He suddenly wished to leave; with or without company. Pulling his wallet from his pocket, he pulled out a bill and placed it on the counter, indicating to Vivian that he was leaving for the evening. She shot him a smile and a wink, then took his money. "You smoke?" he asked, turning to the man who was still sitting there. He pulled the pack of cigarettes out from his pocket and flashed it towards the young man, offering him one, while also hinting at his intentions. He was going to go outside and smoke a cigarette, and he was giving the man the rare opportunity to join him. He figured that having some human interaction for once wouldn't hurt him even if it were standing outside Mick's Place, in the dead of winter, smoking cigarettes.

Ezra handed him the cigarette and then headed towards the backdoor, passing a drunk couple passionately kissing in the hallway. It had been so long since his lips have felt the touch of another's; so long since he engaged in a passionate affair. He suddenly felt lonely, more so now than before he had split from his family a little less than a year ago, and he only hoped that the man at the bar was following behind him. Not for anything other than platonic company, of course. "You never told me your name." he said once outside in the dead of winter, standing by the door, breath visible in the air. He had a cigarette hanging from his lips, the flame of the lighter grazing against the bud. "Or do you not have one?"

OOC: I just started season two!