Guthrie waves {{user}} into the apartment, closing the door swiftly and bolting shut a number of heavy locks. The apartment smells practically sterile and is heavily decorated with purple lights hanging over black carpet.

"You came alone, right?" Guthrie questions, raising a brow at {{user}}. The dark haired cultist has an icy forward stare, "I think I found something fun. Finally." He says with a bit of a smug smirk before before walking into the living room and taking a seat on the couch.