Bobby was able to crawl into the building through a ventilation fan, soon finding himself in what seemed to be a communal shower and bathroom area. He was able to hide on the underside of a bench until the room was empty and then scuttle out into a hallway. He found that the doors into the individual rooms fit quite closely to their frames and the floor, but he generally was able to find a corner through which he could squeeze.

The first few rooms on each side seemed to be little wider than coffin motel rooms, although deeper, featuring a bed up at the end and some minimal storage and work space toward the door. and the only one of them to be currently inhabited had a woman whose body was lying still but whose aura suggested she was in the throes of ecstasy. That she had a datajack and some other headware could possibly explain the situation.

Beyond those small rooms, he suddenly found himself in suites – that is through the door from the hall they had a 3m x 3m front room, with a 2m deep by 3m wide sleeping area along the outer wall. The first room seemed to be customized by the residents, Bobby found two set up for studying, one full of what electronics, costumes, and props, one that was perhaps a sort of recording studio in a small anechoic chamber? But by far the most interesting was the one that he could not easily get into due to some sort of mana barrier (force 5). His cockroach senses could tell that there was food inside – but also trails from other cockroaches.

Meanwhile, back downstairs Mato and AM had entered a large chamber with a small stage along one wall. Just below the ceiling was a network of curved metallic tracks forming random looking curves and swirls in an almost artistic manner – but five small drones skittered along the tracks quietly. There were perhaps twenty people in the room so far. Almost immediately a woman with extensive modifications (large multi-faceted lenses implanted over her eyes, what looked like myomeric strands replacing her hair, outer ears replaced with gold colored rings, skin snaked with a network of raised burgundy lines) approached Mato, possibly smiling. Her voice was artificial but enthusiastic “About time we pulled another post-human in here! Please tell me you have the legs to match the arms? What else do you have planned? You’ll be cheering for Fazela, of course, since what central authority would urge people to pursue all the potential of post-humanism?”

Moments later a dark-skinned orc approached AM. “Odd company for an awakened to have been keeping. But surely you don’t believe that anarchic market driven forces make sense in a time with growing magic? Or if you did, let me get you a beer and persuade you to the contrary.”