’Tis a sound outside of her bedroom door that alerts her to intrusion, drawing her attention away from the ancient tome cradled within her hands to the dark wooden barrier separating this room from the hall. Curiosity flickers in her mind, even as she sets down the book so that she may retrieve the dagger she always keeps near; a gift almost as old as herself short of a few centuries. She waits.
For a while, nothing happens, and Ruin briefly contemplates if perhaps the sound was a mere auditory illusion. And then the door swings open, and a familiar figure fills her doorway. She relaxes some and twirls her weapon in her hand, allowing an almost predatory expression to cross her sculpted features.
”Many would consider a visit such as this to be rather suspect; a mysterious man slipping into the home of a woman in the late hours of the night. If I had any neighbours, I wonder what on earth they would think?” she purrs, leaning back against the headboard of her bed. The fact she is nude does not seem to bother her in the slightest.
”Tell me, Loki, to what do I owe this most surprising visit? Have you finally decided to come to my bed, or is there something else you wish of me?”