He's only wearing one shoe. That's the first thing Mason notices.
Just one shoe?..
Why is he only wearing one shoe? A sigh escapes him when he comes up with nothing. He looks up and glances around. The room is unfamiliar.
Mason gets to his feet slowly and freezes as his chair moves at the shift of weight . Looking down at his hand he blinks. He had been sitting on a plush, red velvet couch. He doesn't remember how he didn't realise before, but his lack of knowledge was starting to irk him.
He gives the room another quick look over. Bare grey walls, a dark black door and a plain concrete floor. Colourless except for the couch previously occupied by him.
No clues.
With another spin, and another sigh Mason sits back down.
He'll just have to wait, obviously someone brought him here from--.
He growls. Why is his head so blank?
His name was Mason.. blank.
He was from ..blank.
He was here because... blank.
The frustration was starting to get to him, developing as an annoying twitch of his fingers. He tried to control it but he was becoming a little restless.
He lays on his back and looks up at the roof, wanting to come up with a battle plan.
What to do...
He sighs once more and shakes his head.
No plan.
He'll wing it.
He hates winging it.
Mason heads to the door, looks around once more and trys the handle.
It opens.
