The Hunter was visiting again.
This had been intergalactic bounty hunter Samus Aran's fourth time at the Fortress of Doom, the great Slayer's fortress of usual solitude. Once a command station for the Night Sentinels, in this time it had become the Slayer's base of operations. A strange, quiet change of pace from the burning hellscapes he'd spent so long foraging and ravaging through before now. At present, the Icon had been defeated, and for however brief a moment, there would be rest for the wicked.
"So this is the great 'DOOM Slayer's' room," the Hunter sighed with mock wonder, having followed the man back to his quarters after he'd addressed her arrival. She'd caught him lounging outside of the armor for once, and seeing as that didn't change after her intrusion, she felt it only fair she matched his level of comfort this time. It kind of felt like a trust thing, though if her initial scans were anything to go by, his armor was more of dressing than anything.
At Samuel Hayden's suggestion, the Slayer had cleaned up just a little bit. His workbench was clear for once, a place the Hunter decided was as good a seat as any. The Slayer himself sat in his computer chair across from her, having grabbed the Praetor Guitar off the wall to practice chords while his guest looked around. Prolonged contact with other individuals was a thing he'd purposefully learned to avoid long ago...yet his new omnipresent 'roommate' insisted upon making allies, especially now when there was time to. Thus far, the Hunter had proven different than civilians he'd observed from the Fortress. Familiar in a way he wasn't quite sure how to process yet.
"It's cozy," Samus added, looking over the old Praetor Suit parts left scattered around this maintenance area - his idea of 'cleaning', she guessed, chuckling to herself. It reminded her of her own Varia suit upgrades she'd work on during off days - her own ship was a total mess when it came to loose parts. It was a strange feeling, being out of the suit with another human being. If she could call him that. If she could call herself that. Enough different DNA ran through her veins she wasn't sure what to call herself anymore.
"Hyup," she grunted, leaning off the table and deciding to explore the room further. The Slayer's eyes rose briefly from his guitar to watch her sudden movement, but quickly went back to paying her little mind. Her first stop was the two remaining guitars on the wall. One looked to be some arcane battle-axe hybrid, of Sentinel origin, she guessed. The other...looking at it earned a noticeable wince and recoil, which the Slayer lightly snorted at. When Samus turned her head to look at him he was back at his neutral expression, plucking at the strings of his own instrument.
Going back across the room in an effort to get as far away from that thing as possible, the Slayer's arsenal was her next destination. An array of powerful-looking firearms, each looking both well-used, and properly maintained. Her eyes were drawn to the two legendary weapons she'd seen him armed with in ancient scriptures. The Diabolical Musket, Lucifer's Bane - an ancient-looking, ornately crafted double-barreled shotgun. His eternal enemies had written in great detail about its power, and though she'd yet to see it used in person, she knew its reputation preceded it. The other was a large Sentinel blade, alight with energy and coated in runes. An all-powerful sword capable of slaying Titans, Hell's giants of immeasurable strength.
"How do you carry all this stuff?" She asked, not really expecting an answer. At the very least, he gave her a half-hearted shrug, which was more than she really expected from the man based on their interactions so far. Her eyes quickly locked onto a peculiar sight across the room. In stark contrast to everything else she'd seen in this castle, medieval battleaxe guitars and demonic swords used as power sources...here in the legendary hell-walker's room there were...toys? All organized and displayed neatly on their own shelving unit. Adorable little things, with bigger heads than their bodies, all sharing a cutesy style. Based on scans she'd ran on creatures she'd already battled in this universe, they definitely appeared to be based off the wicked creatures of the dark realm.
"What on Earth?" Samus asked, laughing a little to herself as she reached for the figure based off the Slayer's armor. She held it up accusedly, tilting her head. "Really, now?"
The Slayer played a wholly incorrect note as his focus was broken, and he scratched the back of his head, looking away.
"They're alphabetized and everything," she continued, looking at each of their stands with the names written on them. "Arachnotron, Archvile...I didn't take you for a toy collector, Mr. Slayer," Samus teased, giving him a wry smile. Maybe he was human, after all.
"Figures," the Slayer grumbled, though not looking at her.
"Oh, I'm sorry, figures, not toys," Samus jokingly corrected, chuckling to herself. She went to sit in the chair next to his study, finding a couple of comic books sitting there. "Macho man likes the comic books, too, eh? Don't tell me you want me to call them graphic novels instead."
"Comics," the Slayer echoed, smiling slightly. "Entertaining."
"I guess I can't judge," Samus shrugged, flicking through one titled 'The Absolution.' "I keep a lot of manga on my ship...they're like comics but, backwards, I guess. I like stickers and bobbleheads too, so I guess we all have our vices."
"Hmph," the Slayer breathed, smiling a little as he went back to his guitar.
Such a curious individual, Samus thought to herself. Not bad company, either.