Armond stood at the metal desk that stretched across his apartment lengthwise, working the screws into a piece he planned to show his new class in two days.  It was a ornate candelabra, with a firm wooden base and gothic designs along the arms.  He’d ordered the base online weeks ago, but shipping delays made the project a down to the line matter.  His backup piece, a somewhat less fancy metal cooking set, was scattered across the table next to him.  He liked to bring something fancy for the new students to gawk at, usually got their interests peaked and brains working.<br/><br/>Giving a satisfied grunt on reviewing his finished piece.  He heard a scraping coming from his door, metal on metal scratch like metallic mice.  Turning towards the door, Armond tilted his head in mild disbelief and amusement.  If someone was trying to pick his lock, they were doing a poor job of it.  After weighing whether to greet his new guests at the door or wait for them to actually open the lock, he decided it would be better to stop them before they ruined his lock.<br/><br/>Unlocking and opening the door in a single motion, he came face to face with his new neighbor, Avonia.  His eyes narrowed for a second, but he quickly noticed the second girl and the scent of alcohol.<br/>“Hello neighbor, I believe you’ve gotten the wrong door.  Your’s is over there.”  He nodded his head to the left, trying to force a smile.  He hoped he didn’t scare the normal girl away, that could cause problem, but he wouldn’t be surprised if he did.  Standing at 6’8” with shoulders as wide as his doors, his size alone was intimidating enough.  His head was shaved bald, with a full but lightly trimmed beard of dark brown.  His eyes were a deep green, and devoid of any mirth.  He was wearing a pair of jeans and a black tank top which showed an impressive set off muscles.<br/><br/>He had a nice thing going in this town, having figured out a method of settling down for an extended period.  Avonia had only arrived that morning, and he was still figuring out how she would complicate things.  If he was lucky, she’d move along.  If not, hopefully a truce could be made.  All previous dealings with her kind had gone south, but there’s always a first.  He’d hate to start from scratch again.