[With a glance out the window, Vil nods his agreement. It's not much of a decision, really; it seemed neither of them had any interest in what luxury the car offered, and it would be less awkward in some ways. Fortunately, it doesn't seem like the resort is interested in locking them in the car in some supernatural way, so the door opens easily when he tries the handle.

The parking garage is unsurprisingly cold, but not terribly so; whatever temperature controls are in place for the resort must keep the garage from getting too cold, especially with some guests' tendencies to do the deed literally anywhere. He straightens out his robe with a sigh, looking around the filled out lot.]

...There should be workers around here. Valets, I believe. Though I've never seen any cars actually drive off anywhere.

[His murmured comments are followed by a pause before he mentally shakes himself.]

My, I didn't even ask your name. My name is Vil Schoenheit.