The morning routine.

[madnessarrow]

Julian paced the floor of his small studio apartment. He was only dressed in his black sweat pants but when you live alone it's not a matter of dress etiquette first thing in the morning. His black hair was tossed and shaggy and he had a light coating of facial hair from the past few days. There may have even been the lingering smell of whiskey and cigarettes lightly emanating from his exposed skin. He was absent-mindlessly chewing away at the nail on his right thumb. He would remove it only long enough to turn a page of the composite note book he held aloft in his left hand. His bare feet barely wrinkled the hundreds of sheets of paper adorning the floor. He had only just woken up and the kettle was popping and hissing in the back ground as he continued to pace. He hadn't slept well and while the night had been less eventful then he had been concerned about. His encounter with Meriane had left him a little curious, a little concerned, and just a hint excited.

The composite note book was one of three hand written books containing a large sum of his arcane research. Most of it appeared as abstract drawings, random words not strung together into sentences, and the occasional bit of Latin or Greek. The book was, in and of itself, more like a reference guide then an actual grimoire, which was absently discarded among the piles of books that accompanied the paper sea.The kettle began to scream in urgency and Julian's mind returned to the present. He closed the note book and walked into the 'kitchenette' space of his studio and added the hot water to the cup of tea. The air almost instantly began to smell of clove and licorice, with just a small hint of lemon grass. It wasn't the most pleasing of brew, but it served to both calm his mind and help him center a midst the massive city of Salem.

Julian grasped the cup between two hands and leaned back against the wall of the room. He craned his neck back and forth a few times working the stiffness out of his neck. The warmth from the tea began to spread through his fingers and along his arms. There was enough to do today that he should have found himself more motivated to function. But in all truth the last thing he wanted to do was leave this fortified bunker of arcane power. He pushed off from the wall and began to walk towards the mattress as he did, the momentum of his movement caused some of the papers on the all to lift up slightly, revealing a small portion of a glyph spray painted on the wall. The glyph served as a warding spell to prevent anyone of the mystic or arcane variety from noticing the room, or it's contents. This allowed Julian to use his magic, in secret, away from the prying eyes of those who would pursue him.

Julian's eyes began to wander across the walls of his apartment. Each sheet of paper contained a partial idea, thought or concept that he needed to investigate before he could confront his father. It seemed almost impossible when you looked right at it. But his mind had spent the last year coming up with every single scenario that could possibly lead him down the right or wrong path to his end game. And at the center of it all; Salem.

Julian took a slow deliberate sip from his tea. There were plenty of things he needed to do today, but the first thing was to finish this cup of tea and get a hot shower. There was also the matter of new clothes sense he was down to his last pair of jeans and only one shirt left. But that left him in the need for cash. He'd given almost everything he had left to the building manager when he checked in two weeks ago. And while rent wasn't due until the end of October, it would be upon him sooner then he expected. This meant he needed to get on the street and flip some cards for cash. Or something else more, larcenous.

“I bet Meriane...” He spoke, unintentionally. His voice faded off as the through went internal.

His first reaction to anything other worldly as to defend first, attack second, then flee third. She'd sent him right into flight mode which meant she had predatory capabilities. Regardless of how docile she looked, this could be useful to Julian in the long run of things. No doubt his father would have created a army to throw into the hunt. While Julian had spent the last year and a half hiding away like a field mouse in a tree stump. Julian took another sip of his tea.

The last time he was in Salem he had met a girl named Mckenna Black. He'd seen a world of possibilities in her eyes, then the Fae attacked. Or rather, drew Julian into the fight. And Mckenna had fled. Then he too followed suit slipping away in the night leaving a short trail of Fae death in his wake. It wasn't the smartest thing, nor the safest, but staying in Salem had become a null choice. Even as he'd been so careful to disguise himself during his nightly sojourns. Suddenly the memory of his little outfit crossed his mind and smile broke across his stoic expression.

“Here he comes to save the day!” His mock mighty mouse voice was horrible but as he raised his cup in triumph he shook his head in objection.

“Next you'll be running around in tight leather pants and a mask.” He took a slow sip from his tea. He did look good in leather pants. This was true.

Julian walked up to one of the walls of his apartment, it didn't matter which sheet of paper he read, each one was a scenario he needed to plan for; each one, a death or a victory. However, so much of it depended on him being so much more than he was. So much more then he felt he could be. Doubt, was no unfamiliar demon too him. Nor fear, self pity, and sloth. Greed, gluttony and almost every sin but pride. The last of the tea was gone in a few unconscious sips and the empty cup was placed precariously among a pile of books. Julian gathered up a towel and his shoes and headed out of his apartment and down the hall to use the communal shower. Julian was not one to be shy, or timid when he felt secure and so he began to bathe with little concern of running into another tenant. In fact, there were a few he wouldn't mind bumping into on his way in, or out.

Julian washed away several days worth of smoke residue, sweat, dirt, and probably alcohol that had been purged through his skin. The hot water was fantastic and Julian wished only to spend as long as he could spinning slowly around in the hot water. Though wants and desires are often left unfulfilled and it was only a few minutes before began to feel the slow decline in water temperature. So he quickly began to wash away the filth and grime before he was left standing in cold, empty, disappointment. Wrapping his towel around his waste he grabbed his sweat pants and walked down the hall way water slowly rolling down his chest and back. He returned to his room and after kicking some papers aside he dried off and put his clothes from last night back on. Faded blue jeans, a white cotton v neck shirt, a brown very worn leather belt, black logo-less shoes, and somewhere a faded 'leather' jacket. All the items had the very distinct look of 'thrift shot' about them and the entire 'ensemble' most likely cost less then 50 dollars. The most expensive piece being the 20 dollar jacket.

Julian checked the coat for his keys, smokes and lighter. Then searched about the place for his field bag. Upon finding the black denim bag he checked its contents then, slinging it over his shoulder. Headed out for the day.