{Arrival}
CASSHAN!
[It was instinct for the blue cyborg to look at his right arm when he shot up from the notably comfortable bed he had woken up in only five-seconds ago, half-awake with the vision of a white armored form of his mind. He looked at it, examining it from the elbow down, flexing each of his fingers to make sure they worked, then tightening them into a neat fist, the lean machine frowning. It was still here, that seemed impossible. It was there, when it felt like there should of been something else there, possibly nothing at all. He had lost it when...
Dio placed a hand against his head. That was strange, He couldn't remember how he had lost his arm, if he had at all. Was it simply his reaction to the dream, or something else. He didn't really understand, but he had a strange feeling that this wasn't the last place he had gone to sleep in. He hopped off the bed quickly, not making a sound as he landed, looking about the clean, neat room, and finding nothing out of the ordinary. His question was first to wonder who brought him here. He realizes that if their intention was harm, they would destroyed him in his sleep. ]
It doesn't matter. This is not the place I need to be.
[He leaves the room numbered: 1613, and begins away without a word, completely unaware of the journal that had been there. Not that he knows he's in a tower or anything. Not at all.]
[[ooc: Feel free to bother the grim cyborg |D. ]]
[It was instinct for the blue cyborg to look at his right arm when he shot up from the notably comfortable bed he had woken up in only five-seconds ago, half-awake with the vision of a white armored form of his mind. He looked at it, examining it from the elbow down, flexing each of his fingers to make sure they worked, then tightening them into a neat fist, the lean machine frowning. It was still here, that seemed impossible. It was there, when it felt like there should of been something else there, possibly nothing at all. He had lost it when...
Dio placed a hand against his head. That was strange, He couldn't remember how he had lost his arm, if he had at all. Was it simply his reaction to the dream, or something else. He didn't really understand, but he had a strange feeling that this wasn't the last place he had gone to sleep in. He hopped off the bed quickly, not making a sound as he landed, looking about the clean, neat room, and finding nothing out of the ordinary. His question was first to wonder who brought him here. He realizes that if their intention was harm, they would destroyed him in his sleep. ]
It doesn't matter. This is not the place I need to be.
[He leaves the room numbered: 1613, and begins away without a word, completely unaware of the journal that had been there. Not that he knows he's in a tower or anything. Not at all.]
[[ooc: Feel free to bother the grim cyborg |D. ]]