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Date & Time: July 9th, late afternoon.
Location: Unit 103
Characters: Alvin and Fiona
Summary: Alvin's just arrived at his unit, and he isn't alone.
Warnings: SWEARS.

With a jingling of keys, Alvin pushes the door to his unit open, surprised to find it rather well furnished and... well, lived in; it carries a rather distinctive smell of people, at the very least. Nudging the door closed behind him, he glances around before scratching at his head. Should he call out? What if he startles whoever's in? He's not an intruder, but it'd be hard to tell at first. What if they're not in at all? With a shrug, Alvin calls out into the unit.

"Anybody here?"

[ooc: Feel free to go with action or prose, I'll follow whichever you decide on! /o/]

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Her finger had been drumming at her arm for over an hour as she paced about her own room looking at the book-thing's screen again and again and again. The agonizing process would have continued were it not for the sounds at their unit's front door. It was usually locked, Fiona preferred it that way. So then..?

Taking her staff with her she took a step through her doorway and peered over at the intruder, all the while she made sure her trusty staff was visible. "Someone's here. What is it?"

At the sound of a voice, a female voice Alvin inwardly noted, he turned. His expression eased into an uncertain smile as he raised his hands to signal he meant no harm. What she was holding looked just like a normal staff, but who knew what she was capable of. Though if push came to shove, it wasn't as if he was unarmed.

"Whoa, settle. The guys here told me I live here now."

An eyebrow rose with that explanation. There was hardly a reason for the man to lie, of course. For the meantime, she put her staff away since holding it wasn't exactly required for using it. With a step toward the living room she gestured to one of the other doors. "Fair enough, the room at the end is yours then."

With a turn on her heels she retreated the one step back toward her room and then caught herself. First impressions were hardly her strongest point but it was probably best not to leave on such an abrupt note. "I'm Fiona." She said while managing half of a smile.

With the tense atmosphere lessened somewhat, Alvin lowered his arms again, nodding once in acknowledgment at the woman's name. He glanced briefly at the room to be his, but directed his attention back to Fiona shortly after. First impressions were rather important for him, and he liked to make sure he left good ones. If he intended to start over fresh, he'd have to. With that in mind, he strode toward her, his hand outstretched.

"I'm Alvin. So have you been here for long?"

"Longer than I'd ever want to." She took his hand and gave it a short shake, ignoring any size difference. "Almost three months now." It was hard not to count the passing time. If that time could even be taken seriously in a place like this.

She gestured again toward his door, encouraging him to move on. Part of her wanted to go back into her room and end the conversation there but the other part didn't want to leave the man in her shared unit unsupervised. So she turned to the kitchen for now, where she could still watch over him if he stayed out of his room. She could busy herself with tea or something in the meantime. "So, I'm sure you have questions about this place."

"Three months, huh? Sounds tough." And it did, honestly. Being brought into a brand new world must've been rather jarring. Alvin would be quite surprised too had he not already experienced such a feeling. For a moment, and only a moment, he let himself reflect on Death City. He never contributed much to the war effort there; he wasn't really given the time to before he was taken away. Maybe it would be different here.

He watched her walk into the kitchen, his smile ever present on his face. Alvin then followed her half way, opting instead to pull up a chair from the dining table, spinning it around and sitting down on it backwards. He gave a low thoughtful hum at Fiona's question.

"You know it." A chuckle. "Guess I'll start with the weapon sentience thing. How's all that work?"

She rolled her eyes at the chuckle while she grabbed a mug from the cupboard. There had always been worse reactions to this place, he seemed to be taking it rather well so far.

"The weapons..." She tapped her chin after putting the mug down. "After we're sent off to fight whoever the hell they send us to fight, we return and our abilities improve. Depending on what weapon you took from them or kept, that usually determines what will improve for you."

Alvin nodded to show he understood. He'd much rather seeing it all in person, or hell, even in text, but he figured he would eventually. On the former, at any rate.

"So... say for example, that staff you were carrying before, it'd... what, boost your magic over time? I thought being sentient'd mean it talks to us and all that." The last sentence was spoken in humour, but given what Alvin had seen of Fiona already, he didn't think she'd find it amusing.

She didn't find it amusing, not in the least. Fiona rolled her eyes, making sure he saw her exasperation. "Your world doesn't really have magic, does it?" Or it was so common and regular and not life threatening what-so-ever that making light of it was perfectly normal. Regardless, it was hard to imagine either scenario.

Her frustration was noted, but otherwise overlooked. He shrugged.

"Sure it does." A carefree grin spread across his face. "Just not like this." He let the sentence hang at that point, and just when it seemed as if the conversation was over, Alvin spoke again.

"You been on any of their missions, Fiona?"

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