"...I do not know much about music, sir. I...don't receive education about music at all, shamefully enough. Though I would help, if I could." [i]Upon hearing Dim's first question, the woman meekly giggled, her hands held together tightly: they were gloved, and stained with blood, as if she was the one who had stitched and healed him. Indeed, his arm was stitched, a scar remaining from the mutilation that he had committed.[/i] [i]Upon his second question, she looked considerably worried, as she once more shook her head.[/i] "No sir, you...are not dead. It seems that I...stopped the bleeding, for the moment anyhow." [i]Dim was currently within a very futuristic room, perhaps a med-bay or something of the sort. The walls were a pure, plain white color, with drawers filled with medical supplies and cabinets filled with vials. A table and computer was in the back, next to a small bed in the wall - the woman's bed - which had a plain white cover and pillow. Stairs lead up to a different area, while the floor was a pearly white stone, perhaps ceramic.[/i] "I am an android that goes by 17O, least...that is my identification. I usually go by Olive - I don't believe that I know your name, sir."