Arrival

[Arle Nadja]

Arle was snapped from her thoughts by an unfamiliar voice asking her a familiar question. Primes... That was a word that got thrown around a lot. She wasn't so fond of it. It made her feel like she wasn't a person, as if she were merely a statistic in someone else's book. Being a prime wasn't a destiny she'd chosen herself, nor was it a fundamental part of who she was as far as Arle was concerned. She had a name, a life of her own outside of whatever was going on here. It would take some getting used to before being referred to that way stopped bothering her. She looked forward to the day someone asked her about her dreams instead of her power. Very few people had ever bothered to ask her what seemed to be such a basic question to her. The somewhat short mage turned about to face Warren regardless, lifting her armored shoulders in a little shrug.

"Yeah, I guess." Arle replied, noticeably a tad unenthusiastic about answering the question. One had to question what the purpose of wearing only an ornate breastplate and shoulder guards was without wearing any other armor, but in a world of magic, they might be right to assume that appearances could be deceiving. While they were busy questioning Arle's armor--or perhaps her mini-skirt, Arle would be doing the same of Warren. In all frankness, she... had no concept of what he was wearing. The suit was as alien as the rest of the nexus to her and she didn't much enjoy not being able to look into his eyes when speaking to him. Why was he wearing that thing..? It was like he was deliberately cutting off his body from the outside world, a concept that sounded unpleasant to Arle. "I'm just looking for my friends though. Someone told me there was a mage's guild in a place called Camelot, somewhere in a city in the sky." Arle went on to explain in a more up-beat tone, apparently somewhat lost. In spite of her best efforts, the long walk getting here had dulled her memories of the directions she'd received. She had reason to fear getting lost.