((Please excuse how crappy and short the starter post is. I'm afraid I'm rather out of it tonight. ^^; )) It seemed as though everyone had better things to do than spread old fairytales about make-believe men these days. He didn't exactly blame them. As a matter of fact it made his job easier, being discreet; rather than being an idolized real-life being for children to keep their eyes peeled for each and every night (as he'd been in England's earlier days), he was now nothing more than a subtle bit of lore to be found in only the sweetest bestiaries. Which was slightly offensive, he decided with a sniff, since the he was hardly a beast. But, scurrying back to the point, he wasn't what one would call a popular legend anymore. The popular legends were left to Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, and that was really something of a pity, because the two of them didn't even exist. Shrugging his shoulders noncommittally, the man floated along leisurely. Never mind his popularity loss. Lately, he'd discovered a brand new fascination, and this was one he had been pondering since the last evening. She'd fetched his interest by living in a house he hadn't discovered until quite recently, which wasn't common to say the least. Although he wasn't fully capable of stopping by every single house each night, he knew of nearly all of them, and he kept a precise list and a careful schedule. It was rough work, but it was made easier by...well...himself. In all senses of the word, he was made for this line of work. Literally. So while it was a scrap tricky here and there, he was talented with it. He was aware of every home in London. Or so he'd thought. One had slipped his notice--the house where the object of his fascination lived--so why not others? Perhaps he'd have to make another round around the city, just to make sure. Oh, but he did not like that idea! He hated combing the city. Not only would he lose one night of good work to several hours of the grueling art of making a new list of houses, but the next night as well. Composing a new list took two nights of labor, minimum. And he despised it. Deeply. He gave another noncommittal shrug, dimly concluding that he wouldn't scrutinize London anytime soon unless he found another undiscovered house. That topic wasn't even important tonight. What was important, what was curious, and what was most attention-grabbing was the people in the fascinating new home. That was what the Sandman was keen on tonight.