Erik woke up with a groan as the shrill sounds of his alarm clock woke him to the stiffness that could only come through sleeping on a mattress as thin as paper. He rose up from his bed, feeling small popping sensation across his body releasing some of his tension, slapping the alarm clock into sullen silence. His eyes wandered over the almost barren room as it came into focus- the small dresser that could only contain a small portion of his wardrobe, the feeble nightstand that wobbled every time he so much as came near it, and the small desk the scraped the top of his legs whenever he sat at it. Not a single piece of furniture in this room could come up to even his basic standards of living. Not for the first time, he felt the fires of rage boiling in his stomach and began to think of his father. It was almost part of his morning routine now. Wake up, groan, stare, stew with anger, before going about his business. His father had only ever used him as a weapon against his mother, to hurt her for some imagined deed. He had never cared about Erik, nor seen any of the extraordinary qualities that he possessed. His father denied it, but being sent here proved the truth to Erik. Erik glanced over to the latest letter from his mother and gave a quiet smile. At the very least, his mother saw the truth. Soon she would have him out of here. The thought of freedom from this hellhole almost made it bearable for a brief moment. 

[@Obscene Symphony] With a sigh, he picked up his small basket of bathroom supplies and exited into the hallway. As he made his way to bathroom for his morning grooming, he paused by Mitchell's door. Mitchell had been making quite a lot of noise of late during the night, groaning as he went through withdrawal. Erik was unsympathetic, if he had been going through the experience itself he would've at least made sure he wasn't a nuisance though Erik knew there was no chance of him falling into the same stupid trap of addiction, he was much too intelligent for that. Still, if Mitchell was late for breakfast again, his would also be delayed. He knocked several times against the door calling out [color=39b54a]"Mitchell, time to wake up!"[/color] Satisfied that his breakfast would be on time, Erik entered the small restroom they shared. The shower was a slow process, Erik luxuriated in the heat, taking ample time to ensure that every inch of him was perfectly clean, presumably using up most of the hot water in the process. In front of the mirror, he went through his normal ritual taking extra time to make sure that his latest hairstyle was perfect. His eyes unconsciously avoided looking upon the small scar that he bore on his left forearm. He then returned to his room, picking out was of his more expensive ensembles: black slacks with a grey long sleeve button-up matched with a black silk vest. The dark colors of the outfit seemed appropriate for the pervasive atmosphere. He examined himself closely in the mirror, before smiling at his own handsome visage. 

He grabbed one of the books under his bed at random then began heading downstairs to await breakfast. He could hear the sounds of some of the other residents going about their own morning rituals, no doubt trying their best to match his own exquisite style. He sat down at the breakfast table, noticing that an extra chair had been placed. He eyed it briefly before dragging it slightly closer to himself to prop up his feet. He opened the novel and let his eyes glaze over the text, impatiently waiting for the others to arrive and take note of his appearance.