[ezyrydr]

 ‎ — sometimes i give myself the creeps

a study in being friends with everyone but not having anyone, the same dented bumper on the same car for a decade, whiskey goes down like water, hopeless romantic in dark corners, hazy smiles, unraveling tapes, bruised knuckles, drumming to his own rhythm, blurry memories

easy ryder. 28. he/them. dancer at club enigma. for astrolandrp

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎 * 𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 * 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑 * 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐂𝐄𝐒

[probablealiens]

who : easy ryder ( @ezyrydr ) ∘ where : the parking lot outside of club enigma

the night air is at least thirty degrees cooler than it had been when indika entered the club earlier that night for his shift, and even though they don't keep it too warm in enigma, indika spends enough time dancing in his booth ( he's good at what he does, okay? even he can admit that ) that he's still damp with sweat by the time he pushes the doors open. the sound that escapes him when the cool breeze rushes his skin is borderline sinful, caught somewhere between a sigh and a moan as his head falls back and dark eyes flutter briefly shut. he's still standing in the middle of the lot, illuminated by the yellowy flicker of old sodium-vapor streetlamps, at a momentary standstill.

❝ mmh―fuck, that feels good! ❞ his grin is bright, wired in spite of the late ( early? ) hour as he cracks his eyes open again, landing them on his friend. he'd call it luck, he thinks, that he and easy managed to pull the right strings to end up scheduled together more nights than not at club enigma―only it's not luck. indika doesn't believe in coincidence, not really. it's fate. there's something special about mixing a set when easy's on stage, too ; maybe it's because they're in a band together, that they've played music together, that indika understands their rhythm, or maybe they're just occasionally transfixed by easy's movement. maybe both. the nights they work together are easily some of his favorites. ❝ you know what else is good? you. tonight. you were amazing. ❞

❝ are you doing anything after this? i mean, like right now? we should go back to mine. i've been working on a couple of ideas for a new song, i was hoping you could help me try and make some sense of them. i'm not going to be able to sleep until i do. ❞

[ezyrydr]

the night air hits him like a fucking blessing the second easy pushes through the doors of club enigma, cool desert wind washing over skin still warm from the lights and movement of the stage. despite how soothing it feels, traces of restless energy hum beneath his skin, the kind that lingers after a good night of dancing, and then he spots indika in the distance. he still can't figure out how indika manages to look so beautiful even when he isn't trying. easy's grin comes effortlessly as he makes his way over, hands slipping into his pockets as he closes the short distance between them. "you liked the way i danced for you?" he asks, the words teasing as he comes to a stop in front of indika.

working the same shift as indika has always done something to him. maybe it is because they already know each other's rhythms from playing together, or maybe it's something else entirely, something easy hasn't bothered putting a name to. what he does know is that when he manages to catch indika's eye during one of their shifts, it's like he's suddenly moving with a little more purpose, more fire, shoulders rolling with the beat, every step falling into place like the music was written specifically for him. the crowd fades at the edges when that happens. for a few seconds, it doesn't matter who else is watching. it feels almost magnetic, like some invisible thread keeps pulling his attention right back toward indika no matter how packed the room gets. and if easy happens to hold his gaze a second longer than necessary, well, that's nobody else's business.

"seems like we're sharing a mind tonight," easy says with a quiet laugh, brows lifting as he looks at him. "i was actually going to come find you after the shift." his smile softens into something a little more genuine, though there's still mischief twinkling in his eyes regardless. "i'm down to come back to yours and help you make sense of whatever you've got going on in that brilliant head of yours." he gives him a light bump of his shoulder, already turning toward the parking lot before glancing back. "though i make no promises that i'll actually make anything make sense. especially if it means you'll go to bed after you figure it out." his grin returns, crooked and bright. "by the way, you were pretty amazing tonight too. you looked as beautiful as ever." he nods towards the cars in the parking lot. "now, shall we?"

[astrolandrp]

✱ STRAIGHT FROM INTERCEPT: EASY RYDER ! — as written by sai ( they / them )

NAME : ezequiel ryder | GOES BY : easy | GENDER & PRONOUNS : cis man ( he / him ) | D.O.B. : october 31st ( 28 ) | FACECLAIM : evan mock

known to be ADVENTUROUS, INTELLIGENT, and CHARMING, but also RECKLESS, SELF-DOUBTING, and STUBBORN, they have been in intercept ALL THEIR LIFE ( OFF AND ON ), currently working as a DANCER at club enigma. apparently, they're INDIKA'S BANDMATE.

Digging Deeper.

ezequiel ryder was born on halloween, which everyone in intercept insisted meant something. depending on who you asked, he'd either grow up lucky, cursed, or destined to disappear into the desert one day like half the stories old-timers swore were true. easy never put much thought into any of it. instead, he lived his life in his own way and it just happened to give people something to talk about. his parents didn't care, heck they hardly even knew he existed half the time.

he grew up riding the attractions at astroland until he was old enough to notice the paint beginning to peel. every year there seemed to be fewer tourists, fewer lights switched on after sunset, fewer reasons for people his age to stay. in fact, with every year that passed, ezequiel grew more restless by the second. he felt like he missing out on so many things all because he was born in the middle of nowhere. and like most kids in intercept, he spent his teenage years dreaming about somewhere bigger, somewhere people didn't look at him as if they were expecting him to start trouble at any second. somewhere he was given a chance.

when he was old enough, he left. not all at once and not forever. he'd disappear for months chasing jobs, bands, and cities that promised more than they could deliver. he'd drum for whoever needed one, sleep on couches, dance in clubs to make rent, and convince himself each new place might finally feel like his own place in this world. every time, though, intercept had a way of pulling him back. maybe it was family. maybe it was simply that ezequiel was a stray returning back to the only familiarity he had ever known.

Extras.

personality description:

easy has never been very good at standing still. even when he's sitting, one leg bounces beneath the table, fingers drumming absent-minded rhythms against every available surface. he makes friends the way some people collect postcards, quickly, sincerely, and with the full intention of keeping them forever, even if life has other plans. he laughs with his whole chest, flirts because it's fun more than anything else, and has a habit of making people feel like they've known him longer than they actually have. but beneath all that charm is someone who quietly wonders if he was ever meant to stay anywhere.

headcanons:

easy is the kind of person who always has a pair of drumsticks tucked somewhere on his person and unconsciously taps out rhythms on tables, steering wheels, and his own knees.

he knows every abandoned road around intercept by heart and has spent more late nights than he'd admit driving out into the desert just to watch meteor showers—or whatever those lights actually are.

his apartment is cluttered with souvenirs from every city he's ever tried to call home, but the one thing that's followed him everywhere is an old postcard of astroland he keeps pinned to his fridge.

easy dyes his hair whenever life starts feeling too predictable. he's convinced changing his appearance counts as personal growth.

he'll swear he doesn't believe the stories about intercept... but if someone suggests driving into the desert because they saw lights hovering over the mesas, he's already grabbing his keys.