"It seems you had an eventful evening."


Donovan Blackwater, stated in his hauntingly, extravagant tone. Accenting his words quite like no one else, this was actually the way he always spoke. Soft yet deep, the subtle nuances in his voice hinting each word in a way that perfectly conveyed his feeling or mood in that moment. With tempo and rhythmic aspects, most notably used for effect when reciting poetry or how a great, dramatic stage performer, might speak. It wasn't something that was done on purpose. That's simply the way his voice came out. All the time, on the regular. It made whatever he said memorable and wasn't uncommon for his statements to get stuck in your head. Unless you were another Blackwater, then you were used to it.


"Only if you call an interrupted date, a masked man showing up at my door with a gun and getting questioned by the cops for half an evening, eventful. Then sure. It was a hoot and a half."


Slouched in a swivel chair, Ezra sat with his hand propping up his chin, elbow set on the armrest. Focused on the computer screen, straight in front of him, while he looked over lines of coding. Work called as usual and Ezra couldn't help but heed that call.


"I feel like you're leaving a part out."


Dropping down onto Ezra's sofa, Donovan instantly fired up a cigarette. This wasn't a fleeting question, he was genuinely interested in his brother's affairs cause Ezra wasn't the type to put himself out there. Normally. It had been over six months, since the last time there was even the slightest attempt made, if Donovan were to try to keep track and think back on Ezra's exploits. Which he did. So this was more about being protective over his brother, rather than having anything to do with butting his nose where it didn't belong. It was in Donovan's nature to look out for his brothers, at all times, always. Today proved no different.


"Such as..."


"What happened after you were interrogated by the cops?"


After a drag from his cigarette, Donovan fruitlessly searched for an ashtray. Upon finding nothing of use, despite the fact that Ezra, smoked cigarettes. Even more than Donovan did. Especially now that Donovan had a baby and couldn't smoke in his apartment any longer or risk the wrath of Abbie. He made due with using an empty beer bottle that was sitting on the coffee table. Pausing rather dramatically hitherto this act, sort of like someone eyeing something that's completely off and totally awry, he chose to say nothing and merely knocked a small portion of ash from his cigarette into the bottle.


"You're night didn't end like that, did it?"


The answer was already known, even though the question was asked. Donovan didn't want to draw attention to that or to the fact that his brother, Ezra - the neat and tidy, everything has to be in its precise place, to the point where this is a borderline case of OCD happening in full blown effect... forgot to clean up from the night before. Far from common this didn't register with Donovan till he needed an ashtray. Subsequently, since the observation was made, he couldn't ignore it.


"No, it didn't end there, we came back here."


"We?"


A cloud of smoke and Donovan allowed his eyes to pan around the room. Slightly messy but not excessive. However, in Ezra's world, this would have been akin to a tornado, ripping through his living room. This was a definite sign of something. Changed. The only hope was that it pointed to improvement for Ezra. Taking things at a more relaxed pace. Deep down, Donovan knew this was a false hope to be had and nothing was that simple when it involved Ezra. It should be noted that even with Donovan taking exception to his surrounding area, he did this subtly. Under the radar of Ezra, which wasn't that hard since his brother's attention was focused fully on his computer.


"Ivan and I. Swear I mentioned him."


"Right. You did. Ivan. The dude that you invited over. Sorry. We're totally on the same page now. So is this serious? Or..."


It was intentional, his voice trailing off to the unknown. Treading into certain topics could be tricky, complicated or they would draw a light-hearted, comical response. Sometimes none at all or a reply that had nothing to do with the inquiry that was presented. You never knew what to expect. None knew this better than Donovan and at the same time, there wasn't anyone else quite as adequately equipped at handling this exact sort of oddity.


"Um... I dunno, sorta playing it by ear right now. For now. I guess. I'm really not sure but I suppose, gun to my head scenario, I'd say that it seems promising. He spent the night."


Ezra hesitated as he dipped his head forward, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Teeth tentatively meeting his bottom lip as if a memory filtered through his thoughts, he chuckled and then finished his description.


"Many things happened."


"Wow. Many things? You don't say. That's... uh, good?"


"Yeah, really good. So good, I probably wouldn't have flopped onto the sofa, if I were you... all things considered. From your personal stance."


This projected Donovan right off the sofa. Cigarette hung between his lips, it remained there while he took a drag and exhaled through his nose. Turning back to the couch, he gazed at it like it was suspected of some sort of heinous crime. Then looked down as though he could now see things from a black light's perspective and grimaced. He didn't mean to it just happened. He had no control of the reaction. Ezra turned to him with a smirk. From his spot in the swivel chair, this was hilarious.


"Relax. I'm fucking with you."


Skepticism radiated from Donovan's eyes as he took another pull from his cigarette. Followed by another swift release of smoke.


"Seriously, you have nothing to worry about, I promise. Geez. I would hope that even if Ivan and I did decide to have a marathon session of fucking, you would have noticed that the sofa was coated in semen, BEFORE... you sat down."


"I only have your words to base my opinions on."


"If it'll ease your mind, we spent the night in my room. The sofa is safe."


"Really?"


"Yeah. Of course."


Here is where it became complex. Where Ezra's disorders developed a duality. Yes, he took being well organized, neat and orderly, to frighteningly, out of this world levels but his room was a completely different story. It was chaos, unbound. The only portion of his home that was a complete juxtapose to everything else. To the degree where someone might think that another problem was going on, were they to ever witness it. If Ivan spent the night in there? That was an eyebrow raising piece of information that was disclosed and Donovan couldn't hide his reaction from it. Sort of like hearing that someone willingly slept in a dumpster. All he could do was smoke his cigarette with wide eyes and a bewildered expression. The silent riposte yanked a hearty chuckle from Ezra as he merely stared at Donovan for a few seconds, before saying anything. Shrugging his shoulders, he replied to the question that Donovan refused to supply.


"Okay, I know what you're thinking but I took care of that issue, when he was in the bathroom. Way before he ever encountered my room."


"How?"


Being baffled wasn't a condition that Donovan, wanted to be in but it couldn't be helped. Ezra's entire apartment was the absolute polar opposite to his bedroom. No joke, all of the other rooms in Ezra's abode were always beyond immaculate, one could receive critical surgery in midst of the place, while his bedroom was more commonly known as a giant fucking trash heap. It was an uncanny, night and day type of situation. Before and after the bomb. The Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde of how a home appeared. Not something a mere trash bag could contain.


"Turned into electricity. Zapped off to my room. Shoved everything in the closet. You'd be surprised what can be done when someone's motivated."


Suddenly it became clear why Ezra's living room was a little messy. It was the bleed over effect, from what he did to appease Ivan, last night. See, while most wouldn't understand this bent sort of logic, Donovan did because he grew up dealing with Ezra's quirks. It was a sort of balance. Order meets chaos. Ezra didn't even mean to do this, it simply was something that he did. An unrecognized impulse or need. Without realization, till it became an overwhelming struggle and a nightmare type of contrast. Donovan said nothing more to draw an ill light on the subject, he just grabbed a garbage can from beside the table and started tossing empty bottles into it.


"That must have been some motivation."


A snicker rose from him as he shook his head. Inhaling another dose of smokey, nicotine laced goodness, Donovan dropped the butt into an empty bottle and threw it in the garbage. He kept a certain steady movement to the cleaning process too, effectively doing a sweep over the room as he exhaled a puff of smoke. Not giving reason for Ezra to feel awkward or weird. Or so he assumed.


"You don't need to do that."


"I know."


"I was going to clean up. Honest."


An almost panic laced, insulted tone tumbled from Ezra.


"For sure man. I'm sure that you were. Except I have a baby now, this kind of stuff is instilled in me like a compulsion. Has to be."


That's when he permitted his eyes to drift over to Ezra and noticed his brother, biting his thumb nail. Precisely the edge of it. Not a huge deal but this was actually the start of something that surpassed what it appeared to be. The specific mannerism, coupled with Ezra's attention aimed at his shoes. A sort of glass eyed, lost stare. Vacant. Where he peered through the shoes rather than seeming like he perceived them. This wasn't limited to his shoes. The object was irrelevant. However the gaze was always the same. He stopped seeing the item and disappeared into his head. Placing the rubbish bin onto the floor, Donovan plopped down onto the sofa. Most wouldn't get what was going on or how to manage it, others wouldn't have understood but he knew Ezra very well and that's why he felt like he fucked up.


Donovan took this as his error, not Ezra's and he kicked himself in the ass for it. Metaphorically. Nothing that he couldn't fix or yank back from the brink of no return though. Ezra was slightly off, eccentric if you will but he wasn't insane. It was hard for others to comprehend the variance sometimes. This wasn't an issue for Donovan, he always could grasp things from Ezra's point of view, never was he unable to recognize and spot the difference. Sighing, Donovan lifted his hand and sent a quick burst of force at Ezra, knocking Ezra's chair abruptly against the desk behind him. Hard enough to jolt the entire chair. Ezra's body flinched in the chair and he damn near tumbled forward, right out of it but caught himself. Just in time. This sudden jerk of momentum and impact, snapped Ezra out of his trance and he looked over at Donovan, who shrugged with a grin.


"You're right, I shoulda started with the closet. Sorry. My bad yo."


Ezra dropped his hand away from his face and laughed.


"You're a dick."


Phew. Crisis averted. Donovan leaned back and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table.


"Really?"


Eyebrow cocked and head tilted in disbelief, Ezra raised a hand out in protest toward Donovan's shoes on the coffee table.


"What?"


It might have seemed like a dick move but Donovan realized what he was doing. Only obvious from his smirk, his next move was already mapped out. Donovan knocked a stack of magazines and books, off the table with his foot. In one quick kick. They collided with the floor and spread out everywhere. That balanced chaos.


"Come on man! What the fuck?"


"Better?"


Ezra eyed the small pile of clutter and tugged at his hair.


"Yeah."


With a nod, Ezra settled back in his chair. Donovan wanted to suggest the option of maybe trying medication again but instead he opted to change the subject. That topic was meant for another day. And that day wasn't this one.


"So when do I get to meet Ivan?"


"Hah! Never."


Stricken with a need to roll his eyes, Ezra laughed. Meanwhile Donovan feigned an expression of shock. Happy that the mood shifted and a moment of distress was averted. He knew this was Ezra's attempt at humor, not an earnest declaration. Still he felt the need to ham it up and act upset. He wouldn't be Donovan Blackwater if he did anything less.


"Wow. Unbelievable. I see how it is... that's great. Thanks brother. Real fucking nice. Now I need to smoke a blunt to remove the pain of the verbal sword that you plunged through my heart. Like your name was Dillinger D'Marco or some shit."


Blunt retrieved and lit. Ezra gazed at Donovan and sighed.


"Fine. You might see him at my match tomorrow night."


The hit to end all hits.


"Excellent. I can't wait."

---

"Game girl..."


"Oh wow. She's got puns and sarcasm. Yet she can't tell the difference between actual currents of electricity and static build up. Okay. I get it. I could have boasted and bragged, really I could have done exactly that. Silly me, I assumed actions, were far greater than words. Getting zapped with massive amounts of electricity, unquestionably seems beyond the realms of chatting about it but I guess I'm just crazy to assume such things. After all, when lightening strikes, or someone accidentally stumbles into a fence marked 'High Voltage' or mistakenly touches the third rail on the subway tracks... shit gets real, super quick. No doubt about that. No uncertainty for me anyway but I can transform into pure electricity. I've witnessed the severe repercussions when they happened because I'm the one that inflicted the electricity onto a target. I suppose this is something that you need to experience first hand though. Weird since I gathered that you'd be familiar with this type of thing. Based on who you were. Meh. No worries, I have no qualms towards supplying examples. I'm quite happy to oblige. It's what I was looking forward to about this particular fight, after all."


"Clearly you only heard what you wanted to when I mentioned my family. They were mere examples to a clause that's usually in effect within the company. For safety purposes. Why I brought up the fact that our match was so refreshing. No humans means no restrictions. I'm free to do as I like. Unlike the examples I provided. It appears you tuned that out and only focused on certain aspects. I guess my video must not have transferred to your dimension properly. Otherwise I'd suggest that you might wanna get yourself a hearing upgrade the next time you level up. Maybe bionic ears will help you to avoid future failures. Your sight was also kinda off, so I'd definitely look into an upgrade for that as well. These things happen with video games, they need to be redesigned and recreated, to fit in with the change of the times."


"Don't worry, I am right where I want to be as always, no matter how things appear, that never changes. Tomorrow night, our fight will be no different. Perception is everything, so lets hope you're not as blind and deaf as you seemed to be during the process of recanting information about my promo, when it comes time to do battle. Wouldn't want to win on a technicality like that. You disqualify yourself cause you're stumbling around and attack the ref instead of me. Oooo... now that would be sooo embarrassing for a legend."