[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/c1sMPdd/Finger-Banner.jpg[/img][/center] Link's eyebrows furrowed at the less-than-welcoming reception from the Asian man who answered his summons. The other fellow's praise, however, was just enough to calm Link's nerves as he looked toward him and gave a solemn nod, simultaneously confirming his identity and thanking him for the recognition. Just as he was about to step inside, another caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. Young, fit... shy? As she seemed to hide her face, he made it a point to shrug off the behavior and continued his advance into the apartment. After two steps, he paused briefly as he found himself face to face with a freak in a gas mask. For a solid four seconds, he just stared in silence, taking in the man's image. Finally, he gave a horned gesture with his hands and declared, "I dig it. Rock fuggin' on, man." A smirk quickly flashed on his face before he made his way to an open seat on the couch and collapsed upon it dramatically. It wasn't long before his feet were kicked up and resting on the coffee table. Jovially he began to hum, allowing sporadic murmurs of lyrics to escape his mouth. "HmmHmmm Weeee are dahh Champions, muh fray-yunds! HmmHmm We'll duhduh fighting, til the end! Hah! So what is this place? Is this apartment like a front for the real HQ? Do we need badges to get in? OH! Do we get company cars?! Shotgun, 'Shag'n Wagon'! Don't even look at me that way, Gas Mask!" Link jested. "I called it first. You can call yours the Respirator Rod or something..."