Franklin had no sense of urgency. Quite the opposite in fact, he was quite calm about the whole thing. His first warden had gone astray before they had even a chance to talk. Lucian... Lucian had been different. His departure, along with Severen's, had really put him in an emotional turmoil. It wasn't that he liked Lucian; it was simply the feeling of being abandoned that he did not deal with.

He only wanted to arrive so quickly because it was a chance to show off. He dressed casually for this meeting. Black jeans, an untucked and loose black t-shirt, and of course, his cowboy boots. He was there, as he said he would be, within a few minutes of their prior meeting. Travelling from Level 2 to 6 had been, literally, a breeze.

He knocked at her door, and wondered just how much of his file she had read. Would she know about the invitation rule? He'd wait and see. As it is, when she opened the door, he would greet her with a smile and a pleasant "Good evening, Olivia." He liked saying her name. It just rolled off the tongue like a purr.

Franklin observed her, taking in as many details as he could. Ponytail, power suit, her manner of speech. Much less 'noble' than Lucian - he realized, all too late, that he was comparing her to the lycan. It was becoming a habit - and more like a politician. Or a cop. Someone very used to getting their way.

"Must I be? Maybe I'm just a secret admirer, luv." He said, his accented voice playfully flirtatious.

Franklin bowed his head courteously as he entered, his way of saying 'Thanks'. Naturally he looked around the room once inside. Olivia's demeanor told him much about her already. But her living space would tell all sorts of things as well. He was ever observant for anything he could find out.

"So. Warden number three. Either I'm lucky, or very much the opposite." He shrugged non-chalantly, but his keen eyes and smug smirk belied the gesture. "I suppose it depends on perspective."

Franklin wandered about the room as if he'd always owned it, instead of only now getting invited. He trailed his fingers luxuriously along the edge of the desk as he walked in an unhurried manner.

"Oh, goodie, are we at that part already?" He asked with an amused little smirk. "But that's a tad unfair, don't you think?" He glanced at the file. "You know so much about me. Here I am, with so little about you. Why don't you tell me about yourself?"

"Yes, yes, and double yes," he accentuated each word with a tap of his finger on the hairbrush's spikes, each a tap on a different spike. He set the item down but not before kissing the top of it. He was quite enjoying himself here, feeling far more in control of things than he had with Lucian.

"You've noticed we don't have sunlight here. It's still an issue for me. f I stay up during the 'day', I begin to bleed from my ears and nose. So it should go without saying you may want to adjust your sleep schedule."

"Yes, yes it does," he drawled slowly, voice almost a purr. "It's no proper substitute for the actual stuff. The taste is the same, and a microwave," a touch of distaste on that word, "will keep it warm, but... drinking from the source is, shall we say, a lot more fun."

A certain smirk here, before he shrugged and continued his exploration of the room, more with fingers than eyes. "But, no, you won't have to 'chase' me." A slight pause. "Not unless I want you to."

"Quite possibly," he said slyly, not directly answering her inquiry. He lingered leisurely about the room, but it was small. He'd reached the end of it before he wanted to. He stood a few feet from her, just barely allowing for personal space.

"Speak of your plans, then. How shall you get me to repent my wicked ways?" Spoken with a devilish grin. He regretted nothing in his life.