Outfit
As might be expected, for Asphodel, this was not a late night, but an early start. More than that, the vampire had worked through the past day as well, safe in the sunless shadows of the archive and had only just started to consider venturing out into the evening to find her meal. Exhaustion was no object, neither was the lack of focus long work hours might bring humans--the only thing that limited her in these circumstances was the need for blood. The tireless working undead, that was her. It kept her busy.
Still, she was, admittedly, a little stiff when she rose from behind her desk, neatly shuffling her papers and notebooks aside. After she worked some metaphorical warmth back into her limbs, she emerged from her office lair to speak with her archivists as they ended their shifts for the day. The night would be quiet, but she'd come to relish those uninterrupted hours.
With assignments and projects set aside for the day and checklists written for the morning, the vampire saw her gaggle of young--to-her--proteges to the stairs. Then, she returned to the grand doors of the archive to close and lock them while she was away. It would only be for a few hours at most, and she did not expect any agents to come down in a hurry looking for ancient grimoires in that time.
Of course, she'd been wrong before, but there were others with the keys, such as the Inquisitor. They might open the archives, although it was at their own risk. Its' vampire guardian would know if something was out of place, not to mention the more mundane horrors that lurked in its depths.
Speaking of the Inquisitor-- It was on her way back to the stairs that she caught wind of combat. Not surprising with the training rooms down the hall from the archives, but she recognized Theo's scent. Clasping her keyring, she paused to listen, and found only one heartbeat. Training by himself again, she supposed.
Going against her better judgement, which always seemed to be the case around the Inquisitor, Asphodel allowed herself to be diverted. Shadowing the open door, the vampire was surprised to find the man in a moment of stillness. With Theo bowed over the feder where it was braced against the training mat, it occurred to her that she might be interrupting something. What, she couldn't know, but he had the air of a man who didn't expect to be seen. A shame--he presented an imposing, handsome sight Asphodel was certain most women would not have the opportunity to admire unless they went to those awful 'renaissance fairs'. And even then, the men who took up swords there were just a faint imitation of what a man with armor and a blade could look like.
For the briefest of moments, she considered leaving him in peace. That urge passed, but neither did she break the quiet with something insipid like she might've early in their acquaintance.
“Late night for you, isn't it?” Asphodel ventured, her voice pleasant but amused as she stepped into the training room to idly scan the array of training swords. She wasn't moving with purpose, having no intention of coming over to spar, but she was curious about what the man was training with.
As might be expected, for Asphodel, this was not a late night, but an early start. More than that, the vampire had worked through the past day as well, safe in the sunless shadows of the archive and had only just started to consider venturing out into the evening to find her meal. Exhaustion was no object, neither was the lack of focus long work hours might bring humans--the only thing that limited her in these circumstances was the need for blood. The tireless working undead, that was her. It kept her busy.
Still, she was, admittedly, a little stiff when she rose from behind her desk, neatly shuffling her papers and notebooks aside. After she worked some metaphorical warmth back into her limbs, she emerged from her office lair to speak with her archivists as they ended their shifts for the day. The night would be quiet, but she'd come to relish those uninterrupted hours.
With assignments and projects set aside for the day and checklists written for the morning, the vampire saw her gaggle of young--to-her--proteges to the stairs. Then, she returned to the grand doors of the archive to close and lock them while she was away. It would only be for a few hours at most, and she did not expect any agents to come down in a hurry looking for ancient grimoires in that time.
Of course, she'd been wrong before, but there were others with the keys, such as the Inquisitor. They might open the archives, although it was at their own risk. Its' vampire guardian would know if something was out of place, not to mention the more mundane horrors that lurked in its depths.
Speaking of the Inquisitor-- It was on her way back to the stairs that she caught wind of combat. Not surprising with the training rooms down the hall from the archives, but she recognized Theo's scent. Clasping her keyring, she paused to listen, and found only one heartbeat. Training by himself again, she supposed.
Going against her better judgement, which always seemed to be the case around the Inquisitor, Asphodel allowed herself to be diverted. Shadowing the open door, the vampire was surprised to find the man in a moment of stillness. With Theo bowed over the feder where it was braced against the training mat, it occurred to her that she might be interrupting something. What, she couldn't know, but he had the air of a man who didn't expect to be seen. A shame--he presented an imposing, handsome sight Asphodel was certain most women would not have the opportunity to admire unless they went to those awful 'renaissance fairs'. And even then, the men who took up swords there were just a faint imitation of what a man with armor and a blade could look like.
For the briefest of moments, she considered leaving him in peace. That urge passed, but neither did she break the quiet with something insipid like she might've early in their acquaintance.
“Late night for you, isn't it?” Asphodel ventured, her voice pleasant but amused as she stepped into the training room to idly scan the array of training swords. She wasn't moving with purpose, having no intention of coming over to spar, but she was curious about what the man was training with.