[center][h1][color=#EEE8AA]Ezekiel Kel[/color][/h1]
[img]https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1d/7c/25/1d7c25779264370a966d7f1780bebe9e.gif[/img]
[I][color=#EEE8AA]Location:[/color][/i] Comedy Club - Houston, Texas
[i][color=#EEE8AA]Skills:[/color][/i]  [/center]
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	Ezekiel tried not to look nervous or worried when Marsyas challenged him to a dance off. How the hell was he supposed to manage a dance off? His father was a god of poetry and music, not dancing. He plastered a grin on his face, hoping to fake it until he made it. [i]Dad, seriously if you can hear this Apollo, some help would be greatly appreciated with beating this guys ass. He opened his mouth to answer when Leda spoke up, supposedly helping. He looked over at her, annoyed. [color=#EEE8AA]"Hey!"[/color] he protested, growing annoyed with her insults and downers. He handled that baby cyclops just fine, she knows that. Oh wait. Ezekiel crossed his arms in annoyance but understood what Leda was doing now. The gods after all were vain, why wouldn't their creatures be the same and prone to praise.
	[color=#EEE8AA]"They do say a dancer is only as good as their audience cheering,"[/color] he noted and looked back at Marsyas. [color=#EEE8AA]"What harm could it do? Not even my companions think I will win."[/color] He shot Leda a look for good measure and that was not faked at all.