    Alterations to spacetime were DJSSâs bread and butter; his people were quite literally space voyagers and his mother had worked to instill an acute awareness of spatial qualities in them from a tender age. Hence the abrupt pause given in the lobby of the newly constructed museum that everyone had flocked to in droves, the DJ left fidgeting by the ornate wood carvings while other passed by into the depths.
    An ask of a nervous looking cretin revealed no answers as to where they could find a map, deflection following deflection. Nova had no choice but to walk into this strange tilting place, only through the way gravity wells of other patrons rapidly vanished into a distance outside of what the museumâs exterior was Nova clued in to shifting labyrinth.
    ...A labyrinth to mock him, apparently. Staring with ill intent at the Bed Bunk Junction posters and graffiti lining the walls of the gallery room, they moved swiftly toward the sculpture section as a passing thought of just where are the musical instruments occurred to them. And lo and behold, a tilt here and a door appeared in the hallway, its emergence disguised by a bend in the hallway.
    But Nova knew. He knew.
    Like any good scientist he could not let a mystery lie and opened the unlocked door to a sound studio with all the bells and whistles of a live room, a recording room, even an isolation booth. All new technology too and free of dust too- âEAH!â
    Jumping at both the lights inside turning on and a throat clearing from under their shoulder, Nova turned to stare at the...small human swaying on the spot.
    âCan I help you?â
@augurdivinusââ
