It was practically a maze - this place. Matthys had only arrived at the L.O.T.U.S. compound two days ago, and he still hadn't quite learned the layout. His skill as a swordsman, and a relatively clean background offered him swift acceptance , and he was considered a member of L.O.T.U.S.; however, that certainly didn't mean he had any idea as to the place's schematics. What he'd learned so far were the details of their purpose. Before, he'd known only rumors.. and while the cause didn't make as much as a difference, as opposed to the opportunity to once again be considered a Knight, he found it agreeable. Now, all there was left to do was familiarize himself with his surroundings, as well as gain a bite to eat.
He didn't anticipate the familiar foods of Belgium, but there was still hope. Each step on the Knight's part brought a bit of noise. Still dressed in full armor, their was little subtlety on his part as Matthys rattled his way through the hallway. The journey from Belgium to the mountains here had been lengthy, but the cool climate gave him break from the heat and less than pleasant elements that came with warmer areas. Inside, however, the helmet he wore was becoming stuffy, and Matthys movements became less and less fluid with each uncomfortable step. Oh, he'd had enough - and what was the harm in a small break? After all, while care and caution were undoubtedly important guidelines to follow, they seemed unnecessary inside of the L.O.T.U.S. building.
Only a few yards from the kitchen, Matthys stopped, hooking his covered fingertips against the polished helmet before pulling it from his head. The thin chain mail that looped around his neck was briefly exposed once he had lifted the thick portion of his armor and moved to hold it firmly at his side. With the helmet now in plain view, Matthys couldn't help but observe the bright red plumage of feathers that sprouted from the it's top; while atop his head, those feathers really objected to him in no way.. with the helmet against his side, Matthys was forced to take special care not to disturb the decorative pieces too much. A tired, deep breath was drawn once freed from his steel confinement. Beneath, his hair was short, packed into tight curls - or, at least they seemed that way due to how messy they were. His features were tired, but nonetheless handsome, and with his helmet now off, Matthys continued onwards in slow pace. First order of business was supplements - food. Then, he'd be allowed to buckle down and locate his quarters with his new found energy. That was the plan, at least. And it remained that way, even as he neared the door.
He didn't anticipate the familiar foods of Belgium, but there was still hope. Each step on the Knight's part brought a bit of noise. Still dressed in full armor, their was little subtlety on his part as Matthys rattled his way through the hallway. The journey from Belgium to the mountains here had been lengthy, but the cool climate gave him break from the heat and less than pleasant elements that came with warmer areas. Inside, however, the helmet he wore was becoming stuffy, and Matthys movements became less and less fluid with each uncomfortable step. Oh, he'd had enough - and what was the harm in a small break? After all, while care and caution were undoubtedly important guidelines to follow, they seemed unnecessary inside of the L.O.T.U.S. building.
Only a few yards from the kitchen, Matthys stopped, hooking his covered fingertips against the polished helmet before pulling it from his head. The thin chain mail that looped around his neck was briefly exposed once he had lifted the thick portion of his armor and moved to hold it firmly at his side. With the helmet now in plain view, Matthys couldn't help but observe the bright red plumage of feathers that sprouted from the it's top; while atop his head, those feathers really objected to him in no way.. with the helmet against his side, Matthys was forced to take special care not to disturb the decorative pieces too much. A tired, deep breath was drawn once freed from his steel confinement. Beneath, his hair was short, packed into tight curls - or, at least they seemed that way due to how messy they were. His features were tired, but nonetheless handsome, and with his helmet now off, Matthys continued onwards in slow pace. First order of business was supplements - food. Then, he'd be allowed to buckle down and locate his quarters with his new found energy. That was the plan, at least. And it remained that way, even as he neared the door.
