Lukas casually walked back to the scissors and slipped his messy remains of one in with the rest. He quickly backed up, hoping nobody saw. If anyone asks about it, his plan is to deny everything and hope they believe him. He was about to return to his place, perhaps ask the councelors about other activities, when something made him stop. "What the-" he sputtered. "Is that me?" Remarkable, how someone was able to so expertly capture his likeness, or someone close enough. It was all there, down to the bent scissors and the wood and the Greek lettering. "Uhh . . . That's not going to be your name tag, is it?" he asked. Seems odd to him for someone he'd never met to have a picture of him, which they both are going to see for the rest of the month-or-two of their stay here.