[He's prepared for him by the time he hears the knock on the door. The apartment has few personal touches, a bookshelf full of occult books and those on astronomy, a few on genetics. A capuchin sized gargoyle squats atop the bookshelf, staring out with gray eyes with what look like pinpoint black pupils.
Grayson's shoes are by the door. He's in a dress shirt unbuttoned at the throat, trousers with a belt, and dark clad sock feet. There's a strong scent of incense in the air, something resinous with an undertone of dryness like bone, and a fecundity like graveyard dirt.]
action
Grayson's shoes are by the door. He's in a dress shirt unbuttoned at the throat, trousers with a belt, and dark clad sock feet. There's a strong scent of incense in the air, something resinous with an undertone of dryness like bone, and a fecundity like graveyard dirt.]
Do come in.
[He sweeps his arm in invitation.]