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It was a good day for Thomas Giacinto, because Thomas Giacinto was going to be moving his small box of personal possessions and suitcase of clothes out of what he'd always considered a (hopefully) temporary basement room, right on up to a nice, newly vacated room on the first floor. He didn't actually know why it was vacated. The occupier of said room might have died, or he might have been promoted. Honestly, Tommy just didn't care, whatever the case might be.

He just wanted a room with some damn daylight coming in through the window and without bars on the door and suspicious hooks, rings, and chains on the walls. Was that really too much to ask?

Reaching his destination, he put both the box and the suitcase down with a small huff of air.

Room 178. His new home.

With a small smile to himself, he reached out to open the door.

Wait what. Spiky?? Thomas's hand stopped just as it closed around the handle, slipping away from the doorknob as he turned towards the voice that had shouted down quite a length of hallway, sure that it could not actually be him that said voice was addressing.

Oh but no. Oh s**t no.

Not only was she clearly addressing him, but she was laden down with a bag and a box of her own, coming at him at quite a quick pace that soon ate up the distance between them until she was standing right in front of him, planting herself in front of the door he had been about to open.

Thomas rose his eyebrows at her proclamation.

"Ah, I do not think that this is the case." He said in his lilted accent, noting the grin on her face and giving her one in return. "You see, I put in for a room transfer quite some time ago, and I was now informed of a room becoming available, so this," He licked his own thumb as she had done, sticking it to the door.

"Is my room."

He knew the situation he had awoken to on the island wasn't ideal. He knew, when he had put in for a room transfer, that the chances of anybody even looking at his paperwork were low, if it didn't just get tossed into the shredder. The fact that somebody had looked, that he had actually been given his request, was amazing in and of itself.

But now it seemed that there was some kind of mix up as this girl (this very pretty girl) was insisting that she had been given the room as well.

"Unless this previous owner is somebody important, I do not think it matters." He protested, as she reached for the knob and pushed the door open. Blinking in surprise, he moved partially out of her way, but kicked out a foot as well, attempting to hook it around her ankle to trip her up as she crossed the threshold into the room.

"Ah, but that does not make him in charge of room assignments, does it?" Tommy really felt no shame in tripping the girl up as he said it, watching her fall, feeling just faintly satisfied at the thud as she hit the ground, and at the box that spun across the floor out of her grasp.

He made tsking sound at her as he rearranged his grasp on his own box of things, shrugging the strap of his bag further up onto his shoulder. He moved, then, stepping into the room....by stepping on her back in an attempt to push her back down flat, before stepping over her.

"Hrm, yes, the first one to enter my room. Congratulations. This must be a great achievement for you, no?"

Now he was aiming for the bed, mostly to set his box and bag down on top of.

The hand was but a temporary annoyance, as he felt it grab around him and stopped in his tracks lest it leave him sprawled on the floor just like her. With an exasperated frown, he kicked her hand off of himself and continued on his merry way, dropping his box, and his bag, on his bed.

He wasn't completely oblivious to the fact that she was now on her phone. He was half listening, and had heard just who she was calling...or perhaps pretending too. Turning around, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the bed, still arching an eyebrow at her, his lips still quirked in a small, if not somewhat tired, smile.

"Ah, first they know my name already, since this is my room. Why not ask them yourself?" His fingers were drumming a beat against his opposite arm. "Next, you may cancel the order for a second bed....unless, of course, you have some kind of offer to make me? Something to convince me to let you stay?" He asked, clearly enjoying himself right at that moment as his tired smile (an act it seemed) broke out into a grin once more.

Forget about simply leaning on the bed. The more she spoke about this being her room, the more he moved to place himself directly on top of it, first by sitting on the edge and then by swinging his legs up on top, leather brown boots still on, of course. Next, he settled his head down on the pillow, before bringing his hands up and under, fingers lacing together, elbows pointing outward. "Ah yes, that is all so very fascinating. Please, go on. I do like a good bed time story." He made a show of yawning, staring up at the ceiling for a moment longer before his eyes closed.

Wait what was this? Underwear?

One eye peeked open again. "This is my room, this is my bed, any bed that is being brought over now can be yours."

Apparently he was now willing to negotiate.

Tommy had to remind himself that whatever she meant by that, he had probably slept on far worse.

At least he got the bed and not whatever hunk of junk cot they would be wheeling in here.

"Good. I am so glad that has been settled." He closed his eyes again. "So, what's next? Rules?"

Tommy really didn't care if she touched his stuff, honestly, as none of it was of any particular value to him. He had, apparently, only brought what he always travelled with, which was a whole lot of not very much.

But still, it was a rule that made perfect logical sense to him and was in no way unreasonable, so he nodded, dark eyes opening once more. "Agreed. What about bringing people over? Friends, I am okay with. Lovers....I do not mind so much as long as I am given forewarning." Not that he thought he would be bringing around many people himself. This room, to him, was little more then a comfortable place to sleep.