Hotel Valhalla.

You'd just died, hooray! You'd been granted einherji status by the Thanes, you'd had about three mental breakdowns in the span of two hours, and now you were being told you had to live the rest of eternity with a roommate. Because, apparently in all of Valhalla's 540 floors, they didn't have enough room for one more warrior.

Great.

You opened the obnoxiously magic and large viking door to your new, not-so-humble abode with a loud creak. The suite was large and luxurious, fitted with four different wings for allocated purposes. The entrance foyer's carpet was lush and velvety and-

"You're my roommate?"

That snapped you out of your thoughts. When you'd glanced into the room, there was no sign of anyone. Suddenly look down and you're greeted with a green haired, eccentrically dressed short hispanic with a hand on her hip and a judgemental glare to her eyes. She was small, but looked like she wouldn't hesitate to take a sumo wrestler in a fight.

"Hm." She added, glancing you over again. Her eyes were both brown, but one was lighter than the other. One deep amber, and one dark chocolate.