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FLORIAN SABINOV

Song for the mood

Getting up early. Having a cup of coffee. Daily workout followed by a decent breakfast. Finally resting his head on his hands above his workdesk that was right in front of his room door, reading one of his carefully selected tomes that rested on a large wood-encased bookshelf twice his height and as wide as the medium-sized room itself. The woodmarks now clearly visible from old age, with the hint of a dark green dye that once covered it whole still partially visible on the sides of that large piece of furniture that was collecting dust for decades. Another casual morning rifed with routines. Florian loves routines. He isn't necessarily plagued with OCDs which was clearly visible from the numerous spider webs that took form in each of the corners of his room, but he likes some sort of order nonethless. His room was fairly simple and somewhat clean, if you take away the need to brush away all the grime and soot that have taken a strong foothold around his room walls.

Perhaps this negligence of room hygiene is due to the fact that he grew up with the constant presence of personal servants, his family being fairly rich and powerful in the wizarding world. He had no knowledge in forcing a brush to do it's work alone with a quick swing of his wand, either, focusing primarily on his specialty - Dark Arts. Durmstrang Institute has always had somewhat an unconventional approach to learning, directing it's interests primarily at offensive magic. Utility magic was taught, but not nearly to the extent of that studied at schools like Hogwarts.

As he immersed himself deeply into the study of various curses and their varying effects on certain mythical beings, his wand that laid on that same workdesk just left of him, for convenience since he is left-handed, brightly glowed signalling him that his presence is requested down bellow. Although he is always up for a new case, he's still a stubborn man at times and refused to head down immediately, favoring reading the book to the end. Just twenty three pages away from reaching the back cover, he read through the conclusion part rather quickly. As he finished he swiftly propelled himself off the chair and slam shut the old book, accumulated dust escaping it's pages on all sides. Already dressed from earlier in an all black outfit, fitting for his interests he thought, he left the room in a slight hurry, down the stairs and into the room where most of the residents have already gathered. As it seemed clear to him, the map showed two cases, an unusually low number, he mumbled to himself, but being in a bit of a dryspell in recent days he saw it as a relief. "Finally." - he proclaimed under his breath, loud enough for others to hear. Only after establishing the fact that there was a job to do did he then raise his head and twist his view around the room to see who's actually there with not much to add.
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