WHO: Lucius and Andrew WHEN: Monday WHAT: Lucius makes his presense in Los Angeles known WHERE: Just outide the offices of Wolfram and Hart STATUS: In progress
Los Angeles.
Teeming with life. And death. Though it was the latter that seemed far more pronounced these days. In a way, the energy that more recently clung to the city reminded Lucius of The Big Easy in the aftermath of Katrina, broken and laced with the sharp tang of fear. On nights like this one, it was a consummate bitch to be so sensitive to the vibrations around him. But to close oneself off to them? That was more than dangerous, considering that his finely attuned ‘sixth sense’ was what Lucius relied upon to tip him off to danger in his immediate vicinity. It was a risk he wasn’t willing to take, despite the fact that it felt as though his skin was crawling with the residual remainders of the battle that had recently taken place.
It was that particular event - the destruction of Wolfram and Hart’s LA branch - that had drawn the warlock here to begin with. Compelled and called him. Driven and motivated by his need to help his fellow humans. It was his role, self-appointed to be sure, but one he undertook with great seriousness.
Luc's priorities had been simple upon arriving. First step? Find an affordable room that wasn’t quite a dive, yet wouldn’t outstrip his humble means. After all, Lucius enjoyed his creature comforts far too much to hang his hat in some flea-infested rat trap. Clean sheets, hot water, a comfortable bed, all of these were categorized as essentials to living in his book. Second step? Ferret out whatever information he could from various contacts he’d gleaned from his mother, Euphegenia. There was no denying the pleasure that swirled through him at the knowledge that the seemingly unstoppable law firm had, indeed, been stopped. If only for now.
Of course, Lucius would be a fool not to see the sights, and he’d spent several days doing just that; exploring the city and all it had to offer. A usual custom in any new environment he chose to inhabit. He’d found that he could easily establish himself at any number of small clubs or lounges in the city, should he choose to do so, or the need arose to further pad his meager bank account. Yet that was not his purpose here. Not the defining reason he’d felt called to this place, in this time.
Surely there were champions here. Forces of good that sought to protect humanity from that which lurked in dark and undesirable places. A place where one such as he could fit in. An amusing thought, really, considering his tendency to remain a loner. Still, there was a sense of ‘rightness’ about this particular search. He’d never expected, though, that it would lead him to the belly of the proverbial beast. The offices of Wolfram and Hart.
Fortunately for Lucius, the nearby buildings offered plenty of shadowy darkness from which to covertly observe the comings and goings from within for the past week and more. Somehow though, he couldn’t quite get a read on the figures he saw entering and leaving the building. Which was exactly what prompted him to move closer to the shining glass façade. Why not? It wasn’t as if the warlock couldn’t take quite good care of himself should something spring at him from the shadows. A well chosen and delivered spell could take care of any immediate threats.
Tall, thin, swaddled in unrelieved black, Lucius created a rather gothic portrait propped casually against the sign that proclaimed the premises to be the property of one Wolfram and Hart, attorney’s at law. Swirls of smoke curled around him, wafting up into the sky from the cigarette dangling casually from his full lips. If there was one thing Luc understood? It was how to draw attention to himself. When he wanted to.