ezralesha
𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 .
ezra weissler , xxix , not from ‘round here .
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Last Seen Blogs
the-breath-in-air
The Breath In Air
new-yagami
The weight of my actions
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gabriela ramos ,
“there’s really only one way to get over those type of days.” gaby shrugged as she tapped her glass with a smile. “it worked for her, as well as a late night piece of cake.” turning the label of her beer bottle so ezra could read it, she peered down. “it’s a new beer. i wasn’t sure what they had on tap so i took the last bottle of beer they had. i’m not opposed to having something a little stronger if that’ll help.”
“ah, shit, the last one? how could you?” she asks, jokingly, as if she’d desperately wanted it and was now devastated to find out it had already been claimed. “is it any good?” ezra herself is all too familiar with their tap beers, easily and irrationally annoyed when they make a change. “nah, i think you’re right, beer’s a good place to start. don’t want you to have to drag me home across town. don’t wanna get it in my head that i can swim it, either. you still good, or want something else?” she gestures towards gaby’s drink with a nod, then casts her gaze about hoping to make eye contact with a bartender.
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georgina wallace ,
“A merlot. Not the best out there, but still worth a bottle if the night is for it. Should we get a bottle?” Georgie asked, trying to realize what kind of night the two would be having right now. She listened as her friend listed all of the latest news regarding her day, shaking her head slightly as she raised her hand quickly to call for the barman. “Today is a bottle kind of day. First of all, we are going to finish this bottle, then we are going to go back to your place with an Ouija board and try to get rid of the demon inside the man and as for Karen…we just need the manager.”
✩
the long-suffering half-pout that is ezra’s default facial expression fades into a smile as georgina quite correctly assesses the severity of the situation; it is, indeed, a day for a whole bottle, not a single glass. “ugh, thank you, you get it,” she sighs, grateful. then, at the mention of a ouija board, she sits upright, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “oh, hell no, absolutely not. you trying to get me killed, georgie?” her tone is playful, but beneath that is an even stronger conviction, that she’s held for as long as she can remember: you don’t fuck with ghosts, ouija boards, any of that shit. “sure, you have obvious final girl energy and would probably survive, but at what cost?” she jokes, laughing at georgie’s solutions. “but i’m the manager,” she says, almost plaintive. “i’ve been thinking about it, though. do you think i should hire a middle-aged man to pretend to be my boss? some guy named greg, or keith... people’d probably respect his authority more.” her little laugh at that is somewhat pained.
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bailey gilcrest ,
The bar, Bailey hasn’t stepped foot inside a bar in quite some time. It had been a few years and for good reason, but when Ezra had mentioned she was going to Six Mile, he had pulled himself together and decided to meet up with her. Sitting in the booth, he drank his water and placed a head onto his hand. His head was spinning and now the thirty-nine year old remembered why he hated bars so much “Uh oh..” He said, vas soon as he heard Ezra’s voice and watched her slid into the booth across from him “What happened?” He questioned and then closed his eyes for a moment “Water.”
✩
the bar is busier than usual, and that’s saying something, the air suffused with welcoming haze of conversation and the ever-present smell of beer; but bailey, slumped over the table and nursing a water, looks like he doesn’t feel particularly welcomed. guilt twinges in her stomach, but it’s a fleeting feeling, quickly subsumed into an impulse to cheer him, if only a little. “alright, so, my downstairs neighbors, the ones that have been fighting for the whole goddamn time i’ve lived there, finally broke up last night. all night. so ‘round three in the morning i go down there to ask them politely to please shut the fuck up—” a lie, she’d been far from polite, had indeed herself gotten involved in a fair bit of shouting, “—and get a door slammed in my face. few hours later, i haven’t slept, i’m heading out to work, and someone’s keyed my fucking car! now, granted, my car isn’t worth the breath i waste complaining about it, but still, dick move, right?” eyebrows upturned, she looks to him for some sort of validation. “by the way, you want anything else?” she asks, gesturing towards his drink. “diet coke, hot wings, whatever?” anything other than water, is heavily implied.
#✩ interactions ∖ bailey gilcrest .#alcohol cw /#ahh dw this is perfect ! sorry for taking sOO long to respond omg
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sybelle martell ,
“Oh no, not right now!” Sybelle said, waving her hand. “It can be on the weekend of when you have time. I’m sure you have lot of other things to do and maybe I can even fix the problem myself if you tell me how?” she said. Having her laptop helped a great deal and sometimes her husband helped when she needed it but there were other technical things she had no idea how to fix and that’s when she asked her students. They knew a lot more than she did but when they didn’t, she would go to Ezra. It was funny sometimes when she would watch her coworkers try to deal with computer problems but once it had been too much for a math teacher and he ended up throwing the poor thing to the floor, making everyone in the room just stare at him with wide eyes.
“I tried that and it was fine until yesterday,” Sybelle scratched her head. “I didn’t do anything weird with my laptop to get my word documents not working, but I can take a look at it when I get home and try to fix it there,” she said. “I’ll make sure to ask anyone and you’ll be my last resourece. I don’t want to overwelm you,” she smiled. “And I’m sure you have a lot of work to do with the school computers. Kids seem to know more about them than their teachers and we got some hacking problems but I’m sure you can fix it.”
✩
“oh, great, right,” she says with a nod and a smile, faint relief unmistakable on her features. it’s not that she doesn’t want to help, but she’s developed a well-warranted aversion to people approaching her for a quick fix — generally, people with about the same understanding of her work as they of wizardry. “ah, yeah, for sure — try your hand at troubleshooting it yourself, and if you can’t figure it out just come by the shop?” she smiles, trying her best at being open, welcoming; she learned quite quickly that customers are much more likely to return if they don’t feel condescended.
“shit, man, sounds weird,” she agrees, unable to resist running a few scenarios in her head, but software isn’t really her wheelhouse; not that she’s going to admit that to sybelle. “but you don’t need to worry about that, i promise, business isn’t booming or anything. but yeah, you’re right — y’know, kids these days,” she says wryly, wagging her finger jokingly. “smarter than we give ‘em credit for, the little buggers.” doesn’t help that their teachers are digitally illiterate, she thinks. “but hey, it keeps a roof over my head, so i guess i need to be grateful to these budding criminals.”
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richard burderman ,
The woman made Richie jump as he was lost in the note book he was aggresively writing in, any kind of song that would come to mind but was not falling from mind to paper, in reality, the whole thing seemed like a disaster but dark eyes were now trained on the other woman, as he chuckled. ‘’You gonna’ tell me about it over a shot, or are we hitting the heavier stuff?’’ He questioned, this seemed more fun than the internal berating comments he’d been allowing himself to be fed by for the last two hours.
Wow, had he been here that long?
His eyes went to the bar tender, as he raised his hand to signal that they needed a drink before eyes slinked back to the other. ‘’And you are?’’ He questions, a small smile was toying on the corner of his lips. — Wasn’t it mad that people would talk to anyone in a bar, but out on the street it would be seen as a somewhat creepy jesuture? He all but grunt-laughed under his breath.
‘‘What ever the lady wants.’‘
✩
she’s thoughtless, distracted, spotting a familiar silhouette and thinking little of it — after all, she knows half the town, and certainly more than half of the regulars at six mile. and then he looks up, and she shuts up, because that’s definitely not the face she was expecting to see. there isn’t a shred of recognition in his eyes, only a polite sort of confusion that only makes her feel more embarrassed, a hot flush rising in her cheeks. “oh my god,” she sighs, pained and overwhelmed by her own stupidity, fingertips pinching the bridge of her nose. “i’m such an idiot, i thought you were someone else, i —...” she groans, shaking her head. “yeah, this is it. this is the end. the cherry on top of the best day ever. i’m going to go die of embarrassment now.”
“i’m ezra,” she answers to his question, still cringing, “and i don’t always make such a terrible first impression. i swear.” it’s true; sometimes, it goes even worse than this. when he offers to buy her a drink, she has to fight to contain her surprise — if a stranger came up to her the way she had just done, she’d never be so friendly. god, i really am an asshole. “you know you don’t have to be nice to me, right? i know it’s the canadian way, but a fuck off would be totally appropriate too.” looking at him, his face is somehow familiar, though she can’t place it; behind her eyes the gears turn slowly, still muddled by her shame.
#✩ interactions ∖ richard burderman .#alcohol cw /#thinking abt cami in the ooc saying jeremy and richard looked alike so . have this i GUESS idjfkldsa
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lucy baker ,
It was only 1 in the afternoon but with the stress of two projects catching up to her, Lucy had found herself at the bar with a gin and tonic in hand and her papers all spilled out on the table. Meeting Ezra for lunch, the blonde couldn’t help but laugh a little when her friend finally joined her “Hello to you too.” She said sarcastically, but then took a sip of her drink and then continued with “A gin and tonic. I have two projects I need to get done and the deadlines are coming up. Im stressing out but this always helps. What’s going on with you?” Lucy asked, and tried to organize her papers to make room for her friend.
✩
“mmm, boozy lunch, very nice,” ezra hums with an approving nod, shrugging off her coat and settling it on the space beside her. and what a relief it is, to have friends who will meet her at the bar in the early afternoon, and spare her from the embarrassment of drinking alone. “same old, same old, really — work is killing me. is there a clinical version of burnout where you’re not overworked, just mind-numbingly bored?” she questions, though she’s quick to wipe the pout off her face. only show your misery in small, manageable doses. sitting a bit more upright, she leans over to sneak a peek at the papers lucy shuffles around. “whatcha working on?”
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georgina wallace ,
“Go on, I am all ears here,” Georgie simply said, patting her friend on the shoulder as she took a sip of her drink. This weekly night with Ezra started off out of nowhere, and soon became a tradition between the two of them. Call it unexpected friendship, but the two woman hit off and a friendship blossomed when they least expected it to. “Just red wine. I know, boring, but I wanted to wait for you to arrive to get to the good stuff.”
✩
drinks with georgie is always a welcome relief after a long week — even more so with the day ezra’s just endured. “mm, cabernet? merlot?” she presses, curious, “worth getting a bottle?” or not worth finishing the glass? is implied in the twitch of her eyebrows. six mile has their tap beer down to a science, but ezra finds the wine can be hit or miss, though she trusts georgina’s judgment. “but yeah, you know, the usual. i’m pretty sure my upstairs neighbor is some kind of succubus demon, the noise all last night was ungodly, slept like crap. and an angry, idiot client who was convinced i’d ‘hacked her webcam’,” she says, making air quotes and rolling her eyes. “and demanded a refund or she’d have me arrested for cybercrimes. i swear, if they weren’t my goddamn bread and butter i’d institute a no boomers policy.”
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valentina grady ,
Valentina was sitting down waiting for Ezra to arrive so they could catch up and enjoy some downtime. She worked a lot, but she tried to make time for people and things that were important to her. Ezra became a very close friend to her quickly and she valued her friendship greatly. “One of those days, huh? Well that’s why I’m here. Spill the tea.” She placed her phone down and stopped looking at emails when Ezra plopped down in her seat. “I have a malibu pineapple right now. A good start for you or has the day been so bad we need to immediately break out the dark liquor?”
✩
“yeah, truly — a day from hell. you ever just stop, and realize you’re moving inevitably towards a deeply empty middle age, without a single thing in life working out the way you planned?” she poses the question plaintively, her pout and furrowed brow now more exaggeration than simple self-pity. “oooh, can i try?” she asks, and, not waiting for an answer and fully anticipating valentina’s assent, she helps herself to a small sip of her friend’s drink, savoring it. “oh, yeah, yep, that’ll do the trick,” she says with a self-deprecating little laugh, her humor improving with every passing second. “how are you, though?” she adds, as she tries to catch the bartender’s eye. “it’s been a minute.”
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cillian fletcher ,
“Ah―Can’t be that bad, can it?” After a wave of his hand, a simple smile graced his lips, watching the other sulk into her seat disappointedly. Her features were laced with discontentment, but it was awfully adorable, “Alright, darlin’, tell Cillian all about it.” he said confidently, as if he was capable of solving just about anything. Truthfully, the way Cillian perceived it, nothing could be as bad as having a motorcycle gang literally hunting you down. A fear that continuously plagued his mind. He held up his drink at the question, “Scotch.” lips extended into a full grin before taking a sip. “Sounds like you’re gonna need a big one, maybe something with tequila.” he chuckled, sort of joking.
“ah, just you wait,” she says with a wagging finger, playing up the melodrama of it all just a little; she’s all too prepared for a laugh and a dismissive not the end of the world, is it? and defends against it with a preemptive self-mockery. “you wouldn’t believe the sequence of shit that’s happened to me in the past twenty-four hours. apparently something fucked up the plumbing in my building, so there was no hot water this morning, probably won’t be fixed for a day or two at least. then at the shop, some old lady comes by, kinda confused and demanding to talk to phyllis, who apparently owned the antique store that used to be in there a few years ago? so i’m trying to help her, ‘cause she seems like she needs help, but it turns out phyllis died not long after the shop closed up. now i’m pretty sure my shop is haunted, and i had to console this woman-slash-possibly-ghost about the death of her friend.” she pauses to catch her breath as she counts her grievances on her fingers, brows raised as if to say, bad enough for you? “and to top it all off, i ran into my ex on what i’m pretty sure was a date. which is why i’m sitting here talking to you, instead of treating myself to a well-deserved but tragic dinner for one at fish’n’chadwick.”
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jeremy lincoln ,
“Try me.” It was all he could muster as he watched Ezra all but crash into seat across from him. Jeremy was interested to hear whatever it was though. Maybe it would get his mind off his own shit. “Just a beer for now. It’s not like you could carry me home so I’ll chill on this. There’s some nachos with extra jalapeños on the way.” The menu was pushed across the table in case she wanted to order something more. “Tell me about this day…”
ezra nods approvingly at his choice of drink, though her brow knits when he alleges she couldn’t carry him home. “hey, i’m stronger than i look! and you live, what, two blocks from here? i could roll you if i had to,” she insists with some bravado. gazing about the somewhat depopulated bar she catches the eye of an employee; to her great embarrassment the girl recognizes her, calling over the usual? with a grin, and all ezra can do is nod and smile back with an enthusiasm that fails to mask the undercurrent of shame. “so, my parents called this morning — both of them together, while i’m working, because business hours mean nothing to these people — basically ready to stage a full-blown intervention because they think they’re going to save my marriage.” she scoffs, the noise more derisive, more cutting than perhaps she’d intended. “then i got texts from both my nana and my uncle’s new boyfriend that afternoon, so i know they’re ‘sharing their concerns’ with the rest of the family.”
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evelyn jackson ,
“Wait, hold on, I think you’re onto something…” Evie pointed at her friend, so grateful she and Ezra fatefully ended up in the same town once more. Although Berkeley was a bit more than a town, but semantics. “How’s everything going?” Again, she pointed though this time the question was directed at Ezra’s phone. “A little busy over there,” she teased. In a way, given the constant aching she felt, Evie hoped to live a little vicariously through her friends. Hell, even her sister provided some of that, as listening to her go on non-stop about her eventful life kept Evie from thinking of the way hers had turned in on itself. “Wait,” a chuckle at saying that one more time, “there’s a jewelry company named Pandora?” She had glossed over the Greek mythology tip since that had originally been her first thought and moved on when it proved not to fit the spaces. “Alright, your next drink and possible dinner tonight rest on us playing around with this streaming music thing.” It was easy to find a bit of a playful side with Ezra. “I completely forgot that was a thing,” she chuckled once more, “Did anyone actually ever use that?”
“oh, yeah, just — family things, you know? my folks are really laying the guilt on thick for me not showing my face for passover,” she says with a sheepish shrug, a faint huff of laughter masking her slight discomfort. it’s not even close to the first time she’s skipped out on family holidays, but this year feels different; there’s so many more reasons both to go and not to go, that in weighing her options ezra feels a bit like she’s broken the scale. “yeah, there is. you’ve never heard of it? lucky you,” she jokes, slightly teasing. “they’re like, horrible high end charm bracelets.” she chuckles, but is quickly called to attention with the prospect of another caffeinated drink. “shit, alright, better work for my pay then. but yeah, it was pretty popular before spotify took over, i think?” with another look at the crossword, ezra tilts her head slightly. “i’m gonna go out on a limb and say the last bit is ‘radio’?” despite all signs pointing that way she still sounds a little hesitant, afraid to look stupid.
#✩ interactions ∖ evelyn jackson .#gklfds is this ezra speaking or just me getting my hatred for pandora jewelry out of my system lmao#we will never know
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bannerly woods ,
Bannerly looked to her left to see the mass of dark hair, instantly a grin flashed across what had been a sour expression only moments ago. Turning on the bar stool with crossed legs, she cocked her head to the side. ‘’You wanna tell me all about it over dry martinis?’’ She asks, eyes sparkling with interest. Her day had been hectic as well, while Jessica was away at yet another cheer camp Banner had been sorting through finances — she was fried, over-tired and fed up of hearing her ex partners name being announced all over town.
That was the most exhausting part.
‘‘I was drinking champage, so we can stick to that and get another bottle or we can be old ladies and drink dry martinis?’‘ Banner asks, sitting back on her chair as a pair of older man walked past and eyed then, an eye roll following. That was the only problem with this place at times, but the company in here was always what made it special.
✩
her interest is piqued at bannerly’s answer, brows rising with curiosity as the faint spectre of happiness returns to her wearied features. posture straightened, she rests her chin in her hands, brows quirked. “martinis? very fancy, mr. bond,” she quips, archly stroking an imaginary bond villain mustache. it’s nothing ezra would ever order on her own, but truthfully, bannerly is just a little too cool, proper, put together for her to admit her childishness in preferring something a little ( or a lot ) sweeter.
“another bottle?” despite the furrow in her brow, a smile edges its way onto her face as she leans back in her seat, leveling an amused look at bannerly. “you finish one on your own already? well, cheers to that,” she says with an approving nod. “we celebrating something? or just taking advantage of a kid-free weekend?” her own worries still linger at the back of her mind, but an analysis of bannerly’s drinking habits is a better distraction than most.
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sybelle martell ,
“Glad I amuse you,” she said, taking her hand to stand up and look around to find her bag, thankfully still closed. “I wonder if you had laughed if I had broken my leg or something like that, but I’ve been around teenagers to know that they react in two different ways, they cry or they laugh.” It was difficult to contain them because they were so full of emotions that not even the most experienced teacher could prevent them from doing so so Sybelle let them vent when they needed. The worst they could tell them was “stop crying” or “stop laughing.” For some, she was more like a big sister and asked her for advice when it came to “love problems” because, according to them, she was an expert.
“Now that you’re here, I think my laptop is fucked up,” Sybelle said. “And you ar the only one that can help me.” Ezra had done so in the past and from what she could tell, she helped in the school too when one or several computers started to give trouble to teachers and students. She had her own share of problems too when she connected her own laptop to the school servers and today, she was supposed to show a video and couldn’t, making her curse in front of the students who snorted at her. “Oh, please! It’s not the first time you heard me curse and it won’t be the last so stop pretending you have virgin ears!” she said to them. “I was going to show a video and the thing didn’t work. Also Word is not opening my documents so I need your magic powers to talk to machines and ask my laptop why is behaving like that!”
✩
she plucks the cigarette from her lips and pulls sybelle to her feet with her free hand, straining to wipe the amused expression from her face. a brow quirks upward at her question, an answer ready on ezra's tongue: of course not, but you didn't break your leg, did you? and then, immediately, are you calling me a teenager? but she already looks like enough of an asshole for laughing in the first place, so she bites back whatever thoughts might be remotely confrontational. “sorry,” is all she says instead, with an apologetic shrug, “fraid i'm not much of a crier.” in a subconscious gesture, she holds her half-smoked cigarette as far from sybelle as casually possible; all too used to judgmental pearl-clutching and trying to sidestep it whenever possible.
“oh, uh — yeah, right now?” as much as she tries to sound open and ready to help, reluctance bleeds into her tone. “pretty sure that was what i just came over to fix, should be running just fine tomorrow,” she says with a nod towards the direction of the elementary school. at the mention of her word documents not opening, though, ezra’s brows knit in confusion, lips pressed to seal in another note of laughter; it’s the kind of thing her grandparents might ask for her help with. it’d be comical if it weren’t almost insultingly far below her paygrade. or at least the paygrade she imagines she ought to have by now. “oy, yeah, sounds like a problem. you sure your default app to open ‘em with is set to word?” a voice in the back of her mind warns her she might be getting too involved in something she’d rather take a step away from, but the tantalizing promise of an easy problem to be solved keeps her engaged.
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haley crain ,
Who would’ve thought that a brief encounter could so quickly turn into an inclination towards friendship. Apparently some people just clicked like that - simply falling into the right place at the right time. And Ezra seemed to tick all the right boxed. Looking up, Haley shifted in her seat with a little, short-lived chuckle. “Water. Is that gonna help with your day?” She asked, shoving her plate which had a half-eaten mountain of fries with too much salt on them towards her. “Lay it on me. I’m all ears.”
ezra says nothing to haley’s answer, just hmphs and wrinkles her nose demonstratively to signal her disappointment — she could’ve expected it, really, but can’t help it all the same. one of these days she’s going to ask that question and get an exciting answer, like sex on the beach or the filtered tears of local bears. “alright, so, from the top: i woke up this morning to find freddie had puked on the bath mat, again. was outta coffee, so i figured i’d get some at block b on my way to work, right? then my card gets declined on a three dollar coffee — three dollars! ‘cause i’m an idiot and forgot to transfer out of my savings. but of course it’s like 9am on a weekday so half the damn town is there to witness my embarrassment, including them, of course they’re there. and then by the end of the day i’m ready to head home and my car won’t start. check engine light’s been on for months, and today is the day god says it’s over, you’re walking today. in the rain!” she pauses her litany to catch her breath, fingertips pressed to her forehead as with the other hand she helps herself to a few of haley’s fries, her agitation calming as she chews. “you ever have those days, where you really think you shoulda just stayed in bed?”
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