[hr][h1][i][color=Steelblue]Rowan Campbell[/color][/i][/h1][sub][@Chicogal][/sub][hr] 

“Wouldn't put it past ‘em, this place is like a maze.” Rowan answered with a somewhat dismissive tone, dropping back against the metal frame of the bed with a firm thud. It took him a few seconds to notice that the aryan (the kind his old man’s crew loved to pretend they were) with the german accent was offering to shake hands and after a moment's hesitation he figured he may as well get it over with. Idly leaning forward, he sluggishly returned the gesture and shook Copen’s hand. “I'm not Victor. No idea where he is, probably eaten by a kid who looked like godzilla or something.”

He snorted half-heartedly at that last one, before leaning over to unzip his bag and retrieved a short pile of spare clothes which he quickly popped in a drawer adjacent to his bed. It was clear he had a few other things, but he didn't feel like getting them out right now; not until he had a feel for the place. Instead, he glanced towards his german roommate with a bored, inquisitive expression and asked, “So, what's your story?”