Mezzen Martingale
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Mez laid on his bed, head tilted up and looking, in a manner of speaking, up at the ceiling. he'd been laying like this for the last couple hours out of sheer exhaustion. he hadn't been sleeping well recently, and waking up every couple hours was beginning to take a toll on him. Mez was feeling relatively rested now though, and carefully moved his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. since he'd been robbed of his sight, he had to find a way to cope. he did this by sending out a wave of telepathic energy that echoed off the surfaces in range of the wave and returned to him, providing a 'picture' of the local area. it wasnt always that good a mental picture, but the more times he mapped a specific area, the sharper the image became. His room was certainly the sharpest picture he could get anywhere around the school, and he barely ever needed to map it unless he was looking for something specific, in this case, his pack of cigarettes. Mez laid his hand over the pack and opened it up, running a finger over the contents to count how many he had left before he walked to the patio door and slid it open. Stepping out onto the balcony, Mez lit the cigarette and took a long drag, releasing the smoke into the air a moment later.
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