Welcome to Gaia! ::

Grumbling under his breath a bit in a distracted manner, Lukas walked down the hallway and tried not to notice how many weapons hung on the walls and, consequently, how many ways he would be able to kill someone if they really annoyed him. His boots hit the floor heavily, not helped by the weighty rucksack on his back. From time to time, he glanced at the key in his hand and the doors as he passed. Who would have thought the Ares dorm would be so big? Actually, who would have thought it would be good to put a bunch of people chosen by a god known for his violence and temper all together in one building?

A small, dark grin appeared on his face at the thought. It was like someone was asking for furniture to get busted and heads to get cracked. At least he didn't notice any blood stains around. That was good.

On the other hand, the size and closeness of things already had him on edge. Where the hell was he going to keep Tank? It bothered him enough that he had been forced to leave his pooch temporarily in a kennel until he got set up in his new quarters. The idea of not being able to retrieve Tank put his nerves on edge and he set his teeth. Forget his nerves. It riled up his temper. Ares or whoever was running this show would just have to figure out a solution.

Lukas would have his dog back within a week or else heads were going to roll. It was that simple.

Suddenly, he noticed a match between his key and a door. Drawing to a halt, Lukas eyed it with some trepidation. He hoped that the room had a proper bed and was not more of a weekend-warrior's wet dream. Even if it was just an army cot, that would be fine. He was used to worse.

With a shrug, he unlocked the door in preparation to shove it open.



WC: 338

Lukas stared - less because she was an attractive, half-dressed woman and more because he had not been expecting a woman at all, least of all one who spoke another language at his appearance. The moment of shocked lasted just that long, a moment, and then he lifted an eyebrow and took a single step back. He adjusted the strap of his rucksack in an absent motion. "Hm. Sorry. Must've got the wrong room."

Then he looked down at his key again and back up at the plate beside the door.

No. No, he did not have the wrong room. That was the number and this was his room and there was a tall, fit blonde in it. What the hell kind of welcoming wagon did this joint have, anyway?

Lukas held up his key wordlessly. His face had smoothed back down to pure imperturbability, a stoic non-expression.



WC: 485

"Volkov." He paused and regarded Mathilda mildly. Finally, there was a slight twitch of his mouth and one side hitched upwards a tiny bit. It was almost a half-smile but shaded rather harder towards a smirk. He noticed the dagger at her hip and which hand she used before he held out his own in offering. He gripped her hand firmly, showing no hesitation in delivering a strong and almost challenging handshake in deference to her gender. "Lukas."

As he brought his hand back, Lukas tipped his head to one side and surveyed her one more time. "Since when does the God of War recruit bakers? Don't tell me he got confused when he was channel surfing and found Cupcake Wars."



WC: 606

"Death by diabetes." Lukas made a sound deep in the back of his throat that sounded an awful lot like a laugh. "Thanks for the warning, Callahan. I'll lock up my rations."

He shifted his weight slightly and darted a gaze to the side for an instant. Another door, marked with the same number, was just to his left. Aha. "So any idea why they didn't put things like A and B on these tags?" he asked dryly. "Or do they like for us to regularly surprise each other like this?"



WC: 697

"Good point." Lukas felt his grin grow and widen to almost wolfish proportions at the renewed comment on his size; he had not forgotten that quick once-over from the first moment. Knowing now that she also claimed the title of killer, of course, he had to account for the idea of her spotting pressure points as well as being blown-away by his manly charms. Still it could never hurt the ego to have a lovely blonde giving you the eye, he thought.

On the other hand, cute as she was, he was not roommate material and whoever thought he should live in close quarters with someone clearly wanted some sort of murder on their hands. Pressing his lips together to kill his smile, Lukas glanced at his door again and shook his head. Then he side-stepped Mathilda to put himself within key-distance of it. "So how tight are these places?" he asked. "We're not going to be in each other's hair all day, are we? Because I'm going to lay this right out for you, Legs. I'm a lousy bunkmate."



WC: 877