[center][b][color=00aeef]Gregori[/color][/b][/center]
[right]Feb. 6th 5:37AM
St. Pancras Train Station[/right]
The shadows ran deep in the station this time of year. Gregori hardly noticed. He ambled along with his pack, in a haze. He looked unkempt, tired. His thoughts were overcome by the urge he had been following since Prague. It was stronger now, he had expected that. He didn't know where he was going, but he was overcome with the compulsion. The idea of going to this place was like a north star in his mind. At one point in his journey, around Spain, he had considered stopping. After three luxurious days he could know longer resist the urge. It must be the pull of fate, why stop it? His mother had taught him to trust his intuition. So if he must walk to the ends of the earth to satiate his urge, he will. 

He doesn't know where he is going. But he knows it isn't far now. He is buzzing with anticipation, what little energy he can spare. It's probably most of what is keeping him on his feet as he navigates the early morning sprawl of London. He doesn't navigate, he just follows his feet. He keeps walking, for a while. The sun is rising. He doesn't know what time it is, he barely noticed the urban sprawl fall away into sleepy residential backstreets. He finds himself on a street with more empty plots on it than most; the pavement is chipped and dated. There is no activity. 

He imagined a buzzing, somewhere in his head. Maybe his jaw. The anticipation is building to a precipice. He can feel he is near. He half stumbles, half marches down the road. No cars pass. He feels the nagging fizzle away, an itch being scratched after bothering him for months. Hundreds of miles to end up here. He looked placidly on his destination. A decrepit mansion, on an empty sidestreet, on the outskirts of London. Something important must have led him here. Something powerful. He slumped his travelling pack off his shoulders, heaving a sigh as it slithers to the ground. He hesitates on the wild lawn, unsure what he should do next. The place seems empty. He searches the window, no lights are on. Except one. With a sharp inhale, Gregori approaches the front door. 

He lifts the door knocker, it's held by a grotesque face leering at him. He raps the door twice sharply. He can here the sharp knocks rattle down the hallway inside. Gregori took the few moments while waiting for an answer to recollect himself, to reflect, and to prepare for whatever awaited him on the other side. After a few deep breaths, his body is relaxed. His mind is ready, despite his tiredness. A smile creeps into the corners of his mouth. 

The heavy door opens. Every second felt like it dragged on. This was one of the powers of anticipation. His patience lasted until morning light broke through into the hallway, illuminating the face of the woman who had opened the door with a knowing look on her face. Something about her made him feel more settled than he had been for a long time. [color=00aeef]"Hello. I'm Gregori. You've been expecting me?[/color]