The Circle of Creation. As a meeting-place, or for training, it served its purpose well. As living quarters, Animus couldn't stand it. When a group of people lived together, it built up an atmosphere based on their personalities. He'd felt it in the Living Stones' Sanctum, in the Neidan Mansion.

The Circle lacked all trace, a dearth that his sense of the living brought into even sharper contrast. Even the Hallow carried a far more clinical resonance than any the Thyrsus was used to. Stagnant, burnt out, just like the Neidan. Can the Living Stones fare any better, or is this all that's left?

Trying to burn off some of the building negative energy, he heads to the exercise room and begins lighting into the punching bag, strikes coming faster and more fluid as he allows more of the animal to bleed into his mindset.

The interesting thing about the exercise room is that a Guardian has virtually no reason to be there. There are other ways to do anything that could be done in there. So it is, in fact, one of the least likely places to find a spy.

Which is EXACTLY why the Epopt dropped by today. Well, maybe not the whole reason, but it was certainly a part of it. His step into the room falters, just a tad, as he notices Animus doing his thing.

Today he's opted to wear what can best be described as thread-bare jeans, and a t-shirt with several holes. The entire ensemble looks... well, it looks like it belongs at the bottom of a bin. And it smells like Henry just dug them up from there. With a single low word of greeting, "Hierach," he heads towards the back, for the weight-lifting benches.

Sometimes, not having to think made his situation easy to deal with. He could lose himself in the rhythm of his strikes, the jerking motions of the beleaguered bag, and let wolven instincts move into the void left by rational thought.

But such a state could never last. At the sudden voice, the Thyrsus turns reflexively toward its source. In the following stillness, Henry can see how much the past two months have worn on the Hierarch, and watch as the fog slowly lifts over his mind. Finally, there is a nod of greeting, a brief flicker of a smile which quickly vanishes, subsumed by his overall depression. "Epopt. I can't say I expected you to wander in. What brings you?"

Henry continues his way to the weightlifting benches, and crouches down next to one of them. "Nothing important. Well, nothing I could share anyway," he says matter-of-factly. It's not like it's a secret that he has secrets. The truth is that he wasn't checking the underside of this particular piece of equipment, but rather the one two machines over. Good, no envelopes.

And really, it was that simple. His operatives could do and think whatever they wanted, but the place was nothing more than a liability. Except when it came to being a rather secure mailbox. Standing back up, he turns as though to make for the exit, then stops. It takes him a moment of looking at the Hierarch to state, simply, "You look like hell."

The Thyrsus chuckles hoarsely, but it falls flat almost as quickly as the smile had. "I'm that easy to read?" His voice yields only the slightest bit of inflection, making the sentence sound more like a statement than a question. "Not surprising, I guess. It's been tough watching another Cabal fall apart around me." For a moment he looks like he might add more, but quickly changes his mind. I thought Ruby and Josh might understand, and only got burned for the trouble. Why should I expect any better from him?

Better to just shrug and try to move the topic away from himself. "I'll work through it. But as long as you're here, what are your thoughts on the two younger Guardians?"

Henry hmms for a moment, and his eyes fixate on Animus, coming close to drilling a hole through the man. "Power drawing a gap between you and your acquaintances?", he asks, neutrally. It's closer to a statement than a question, but there is that little inflection there, similar to Animus's own.

But that question. Asking about my operatives. Why? Well, you know what they say. When in doubt... "They still need some time before they're ideal Guardians." Which to say they're not emotionally dead. "Still, they're young. Idealistic." Naive. "They have the independence to make things work. If they can show their resourcefulness, and find their niche, they'll do a fine job." The Epopt's thoughts run a parallel track, with less flattering words, even as he describes the two girls. It's not that he didn't like them, of course, but his standards went beyond what he could convey in words.

Of course, that can best be described as a 'professional opinion' of both of them. Which is the only opinion that matters, right? Opinions of each, individually? Hah, surely you jest! "Why do you ask?", he asks. Always, always that one question. Why.

Animus shakes his head, something flashing in his eyes. "Power? I almost wish it were that simple." And once again he cuts himself off. Always turning the conversation back to me. Is he looking for something? Perhaps it was better to keep the focus elsewhere.

"It was actually just such niches that I've been thinking about. I thought perhaps one of them might make a good Herald. It seemed only natural to seek your opinion on the matter, since you deal with both of them regularly." He lets the sentence hang, waiting to see how the Epopt will react.

"Don't we all," Henry replies, sounding... sad? Sarcastic? Resigned? Hard to tell. And there's that look again. The one that analyzes, dissects. Keep him on his heels. Let him ask, let him wonder.

The Hierarch's question, however, makes an invisible hair somewhere on the back of Henry's neck bristle. A Guardian for the public face of the Consilium. The girls still had much to learn, and this kind of thing wouldn't help their discretion. Unless... "Ariadne could serve well," he states without inflection. A small part of his attention is instantly dedicated to making the best of this. "She's shown herself to be outgoing enough, I'm sure making decrees known will be well within her grasp." Am I playing right into his hand?

That look, like Epopt was boring into his soul, dissecting, scrutinizing. Animus shivers, unease causing subtle wolf-like overtones to seep into his movements. Does he judge, also?

He forcibly reminds himself to focus on the task, shoving the question aside. "I'm glad to hear it. Could you be sure to let her know of her appointment?" Hopefully she'll last longer than the last two.

Finally, with those words from Animus, gaze subsides. The Epopt gives an absent nod, his mind trying to adapt, adapt, adapt. Is that why he changes things so? Keep me on my heels? Good luck.

With only a moment's hesitation, Henry answers, "As soon as I speak to her." A hand pats at the dirty clothes, apparently looking for... something. "I left my pen in my other suit. I'll get you her coordinates once she's accepted." Because there is no doubt in his mind that she will accept. "Was that all?" The tone does not have a hint of impatience... or a hint of anything really.

Animus seems about to respond when Henry's response catches him by surprise. "Hold up a second. Coordinates?"

And Henry does stop, looking quizzically at the Hierarch. "Yes. Phone. Unless you want me to be sole liaison to the Herald? I'd have no objections to that." In fact, there was something positively devious about the possibility, wasn't there? Still, the costs outweigh the benefits, to the older man's mind.

The Thyrsus' puzzlement vanishes instantly. "Oh, no, her phone number would be appreciated. Your turn of phrase just caught me by surprise, is all." Who calls a phone number 'coordinates'? Is it supposed to be some sort of Guardian code?

The Epopt nods, answering matter-of-factly, "Sorry. Old habits die hard." Though, as has become his habit, he doesn't sound sorry. "I'll see to it she either calls you, or I'll get the number to you myself." His tone almost makes it sound like the words 'or die trying' belong at the end of that. But he doesn't add them, and instead waits to see if Animus has anything else he'd like to add. This place had only been a single stop on his route.

Animus gives Henry a quick nod. "Thank you. That would be appreciated." He glances around, idly wondering where Guards-the-Pack had wandered to, before turning back to Henry. "Take care of yourself."

The Epopt stops a moment. "Expect it soon." He's juuuust about to take a step outside when the Hierarch says what can only be some sort of taunt. Couldn't be anything else. "I always do. Stay safe." He was gone, almost as soon as the words left his mouth, disappearing into the city. He diverted most of his attention to Animus's words, to his actions. In fact, he diverted so much attention there he walked right pas his next drop point.