Weapon Room

The weapons room is filled to the brim with every type of weapon you can think of. We do have employees that clean the weapons but it is often that you find shadowhunters cleaning them, often a punishment. Remember to note what weapon you take in the book.

Weapon Room
the institute's weapon cache

## Roleplay

### Louis and Venus

With his back to the door, Louis was drawing a clothe down the seraph blade, cleaning it from the black blood that stained the silver metal. Wearing a cotton jumper that was a size too big, Louis had cleaned up before he went to clean the weapons. Suppose it was a bad habit, just hanging a dirty blade from a door, hoping it doesn't drip onto the ground whilst he showers. It was such a pain to clean demon blood from mahogany. Louis wasn't the cleanest, can't you tell? No, he did things in his own time. He was whistling a tuneless tune under his breathe, not expecting company.

Venus was like a ghost in the halls of the Institute, her movement like river water parting around stone as she meandered down the halls with feather-light footsteps. With what appeared to be two pieces of a seraph blade lain across her arms, the redheaded warlock found herself pausing outside of the door that led to the weapon room. As her blue eyes fixated on the button to open it, she listented to her brother hum a tune before allowing her fingertips to brush against the touchless activator. As the door delicately slid open, the darkened form of Louis' twin was finally produced. Moving past him in eerie silence, she slid the two hunks of now useless metal onto the table and braced her hands against the edge to examine the pieces.

Louis was use too his sister appearing apparently out of nowhere. Sometimes he wondered if she had the power of invisibility on top of hell fire. So when she brushed past him, he didn't jump or freeze. His eyes did flicker up to blink over at her. "I haven't done something to deserve the silent treatment, have I?" He asked, biting back a smile. Louis knew he hadn't. Or at least, he hoped he hadn't. Louis doesn't recall an argument in the past week erupting between them. "Or did someone beat you in battle? A demon too powerful?"

At first she remained entirely silent, staring at the blade with a certain level of intensity to the point where flames begun to fill her irises and saturated them in a sort of weird orange-yellow glow. "I broke my seraph blade," was the only answer she permitted, her deadpan tone suggesting that it was the only issue at hand. Defeated in battle? Demon too powerful? Not for Venus Herondale. It was her *blade* that she was upset by but due to her inability to properly process normal mundane emotion, she was rendered near speechless on the matter. How many did this make now? Seven?

Louis grunted in acknowledgement. The angel's weapon, or anything printed with a rune, were never reliable for either of them. Louis, it always seemed, had better luck than his twin but he found himself not relying on seraph blades, constantly making sure he had back up plenty of back up. "You can always get another one," he said, trying too reassure her. What else could be done? Curse their heritage? Louis already does that every night and nothing good has come from it so far. "Plus, not like you really need a blade to kill a demon," he pointed out with a quick grin, referring to her fire.

Venus found her clutched fists start to itch and burn until she unfurled her fingers and allowed a small spark of hellfire to dance along her palm, gaze distantly pinned on the flames. "Yes, I suppose," she said rather airily and clutched her hand again, the fire soon snuffed out. "What are you doing?" she suddenly inquired, brow quirking curiously. She hadn't seen much of her brother today.

"I decided not too abuse the mundanes so I'm cleaning my own weapons," Louis confessed as he turned his eyes downwards, coming too realise he was done. Has been for a while now and was just aimlessly wiping a dirty rag across the blade. "You know I'm not exactly the cleanest in my fighting. At least I haven't dripped demon blood through the hallways again."

"I'm sure they appreciate that," she deadpanned before moving over to him and snagging the dirtied cloth from his fingers. "I'm pretty sure Margaux was one more bloody hallway incidient away from making you scrub all the floors in the Institute with a Barbie toothbrush so," she gently kissed his cheek in an affectionate manner and tossed the rag into a trashbin by the door, her expression still moderately unreadable. It usually was. "Hungry yet?"

"I still don't see the appeal in barbie," he noted, smiling subconsciously, more to himself than anyone else, when he felt her kiss. "But I don't see the appeal of many mundane commodities, I suppose," he added as he tossed his blade into the appropriate place. Looking over at her, his eyes flicked over her face. Though unreadable, he liked to think he could see more from it than most. "When am I not?" He asked, moving to follow her.