The Sigils

[madnessarrow]

Julian stood facing one of his many walls of paper in his apartment. At first glance it appeared to be nothing more then incoherent markings of some vague language of Greek origin. In truth there was no pattern to the languages that he used, at any point his mind might switch from one to the other when he started jotting down his arcane ramblings, whatever language best described his intention, based on his intuition. He lifted the mug of tea to his lips and took a slow, tentative sip from the cup. If one possessed the ability to translate, organize, and combine Julian's personal experiences into a codex, the scene before him would transform into a grid pattern of Salem, and every hundred or so feet, starting from his apartment complex, they'd see a marking for a sigil. The sigil itself wasn't anything too complicated merely a kind of mystic alarm system that routed through each sigil on their way to his apartment, giving him a 'warning system' of sorts anytime someone wandered within his neighborhood.

[] This part needs approval? []

The sigils, unique and personal to Julian, centered on his apartment, but each one was connected to the adjacent sigils near by. And by making contact with one, either the one in his apartment or one on the streets, he'd be connected to all the others. Now while this did not give him an accurate form of scrying, it did give him a kind of radar, that would provide him with an early warning system as well as a way to monitor the area around his apartment. Additionally, each sigil was empowered with enough magic, that if he so desired he could 'set one off' like a kind of arcane flash bang. Which would literally translate to a brilliant arcane light that rose to such levels that it would be blinding to anyone within twenty feet of it or looking directly at it when it went off. It would also create a kind of arcane static that, anyone with the ability to sense or direct magic, would find 'deafening' in a matter of sorts. Doing so would remove the sigil and thus require that he reapply it. And if enough were set off, causing a blind spot in his radar.

[] Not a large setting change but something to keep in mind as a tactile move would he be attacked on his 'home turf'.[]

He'd already covered Dodge, Ward, Harbor, and Lafayette street as well as Washington, Pond and Rope. This covered just about any road or passageway that lead to the area around his apartment building. The sigils themselves had been spray painted on various surfaces and 'anchored' to the spot. His magic had sufficiently set the sigils to the point that even if the paint was removed, covered, or obscured, the magic would remain and thus the sigils would continue to be effective. It had taken him most of the night to accomplish and aside from his short break with Meraine, and Alice. He'd worked most of the evening and well into Tuesday morning. Though standing there now, looking over his work. He'd already begun plans to spread the network further throughout the city. But that would take significantly more time, and resources he didn't have.

[] But if it's okay, I'd like to expand it significantly further. Time required could be delegated on a weekly bases where he sets aside the time to handle a few blocks or so expanding certain areas that he feels need observation.[]

He took another sip from the cup, the tea had began to cool while he stood there and having discovered it's relative temperature he took another long drink from the cup. Finishing it he set the cup down hap-hazardously on a pile of books. He hadn't slept well the night before and so he craned his neck to remove the traditional morning stiffness, he rolled his shoulder and began to stretch a few muscles as his eyes continued to glance over his work. Each piece of paper contained on it various ideas, plans, and scenarios for the things he thought might get thrown at him by his implacable foe. And last night he'd added a couple more pages with information pertaining to his encounters with Meraine, and her friend Alice.

Julian idly picked up a pencil and began scribbling on one of the pieces of paper, the ideas didn't exactly flow in any specific fashion or pattern, when something came to mind he wrote it down. In time he' fit the pieces together and plan out his end game, but for now it was just a matter of getting everything down. He could spend a hundred years planning and mapping out every possible attack, provocation, torment, or even subtle moves and never have every angle covered. But for now, while he was still relatively hidden, it was all about planning.

He'd actually been pleasantly happy with Meraine's little dance routine the night before, the amount of personal energies he'd have had to muster for the concealing spell on his apartment complex had been a concern. Drawing ambient energies would have been too risky, and the amount of preparation to muster that much personal energy would have taken a few days at least. Instead, she'd preformed the ritual without even being coerced into it. But things did have a way of 'working themselves out' when Julian needed it the most. Regardless, the spell was in full effect and anyone who sought harm to Julian, or any other occupant of the building for that matter, would find themselves cast a side on some trivial errand or lose track of their purpose. And those who directly sought Julian through the mystic arts, would find their magic parting around the building like water to a stone. However, with all precautions come risks and a highly trained practitioner would notice the divergence, thus serving to isolate the buildings from the rest. This wasn't an immediate concern, but he knew the ward would only 'work' so well. And this was something he'd have to plan against as well.

A few more markings and Julian nodded to himself in acceptance. He then turned from the wall and headed over to his bag. The apartment was not very big at all, just a little one room studio in a refurbished house. But it offered him everything he needed, which wasn't much. He'd already showered for the day and so he set off for the park. A little card flipping to make some cash then he really needed a few more sets of clothing. The worn blues jean and v neck shirt had already begun to smell of cigarette smoke, and while the jacket was warm, he needed something a little less 'military'. So with his bag of amusements and a spare composite notebook he headed off into the late Salem morning aware afternoon would be upon him sooner rather than later.