The encounter began with a simple statement.

"Looks like you're holding up."

Vincent Valentine, Katie Slape's assigned Warden for the month. He had done the usual part of finding her and exchanging names, asking questions and basically laying out his method. Which amounted to 'What's your general routine?' and 'I'll check in on you from time to time.' Honestly the first meeting had been brief. He was a brusque man and seemed to hold little interest in the matter; almost apathetic.

But unlike other wardens- all? some?- Vincent had made good on his word. He had checked up. Had brief conversations. His appearances were often unannounced and at random. Well... for the couple of 'uneventful' days before the Barge hit the Flood. After that point, his visits became more frequent though at the same time the Fog and the Otherworld that faded in and out of the first few days would make tracking Katie down difficult. If he were asked?

He was doing his job. And that meant, apparently, making sure she was safe as well as 'checking up'. He also had a gun that seemed to be perfectly effective against the monsters. Perks of being a Warden and coming from a magic-fantasy-tech world one supposes.

But frustratingly, perhaps, he seems to be doing perfectly fine. Unruffled by his surroundings- outwardly at least- and capable of setting aside whatever fear or trauma to keep his head while navigating the dangers of the Otherworld, he was annoyingly consistent with success. So clearly something had to be done.

But time went on as they traveled together. Good as he is, numbers were a weakness, in narrow halls and enclosed rooms. Sure, he seemed to be well stocked with ammunition and his aim was alarmingly accurate. But getting chased by a horde? Well, that is going to require a bit of strategic retreating. Whose trauma-induced creations are they? Katie's? Vincent's? Perhaps both in a tangle? Who knows.

"Hurry, through that door." Vincent sounded almost indifferent- maybe a little more harsh to suggest the tension that's probably really there- as he turned again to open fire on some of the front runners that were spilling into this particular room. It would be a way to cause the next in line to trip and cause a small bottleneck that would let him soon follow Katie.

The door in question was rusted and pocked but importantly it seemed made of thick metal and could be barred from the other side. It would suffice if they were both to get through.