An arena. There is some nanotechnology available to create specific opponents or landscapes, along with artificial intelligence. It was opened not too long ago now, though I haven't had the time to really test it properly yet.

[ The tattoos are interesting, as she isn't often privy to seeing them. Clan markings, facial tattoos, marks from glyphs or bindings, or painted on runes are commonplace to her, but the limited amount of nude torsos she's seen have largely been marked by tooth, claw, or steel.

The scars... She wonders how well they've been healing. If he's been using ointments to keep the skin healing properly and to maintain valuable elasticity. But she can pry later on, perhaps.

She does quietly note the complete lack of hair anywhere on his torso, if only because by now that, too, is an oddity to her. Apparently she isn't the only one to have seen an oddity, given the strange look Gladio sends the poncho. ]

It's cashmere. [ She tells him, taking his clothes and draping them neatly over her arm. ] Nice and soft and warm, and should be broad enough in the shoulders.

The washroom is over there if you need it. [ A quick gesture to it. ] The upstairs is off-limits, but you're welcome to go wherever else you'd like. I'll just be a minute putting the laundry in.

[ She gives him a shallow, informal sort of bow out of reflex before striding off to do just that. ]