There must have been a chip inside that hand, because the door indeed slides open. The next room is a full of cubicles, with the small desk spaces separated by six-foot tall partitions made of cheap plastic. The place looks like a former warzone, with shell casings, strewn paper, and busted pieces of phones, fax machines and other electronic equipment found here and there. The only light comes from holes in the shoddy manufactured ceiling, where wires and tiles have been chopped through, revealing the warehouse ceiling lights further above. Somewhere past the cubicles you can hear machines running, like overly large hairdryers being employed. But these machine sounds are moving. You would guess this room is roughly 80 ft by 80 ft.
[MENTION=4936]Shayuri[/MENTION] , still need to work on your post after a busy weekend, but since your character is paying some attention to what is going on have her roll a perception check to see if she can figure out which Matrix icons are associated with this room and their identity.
Thistle eyed Sal and nodded. Reluctantly. She waited for Floch to return with the gristly bit of hand. When he did, Thistle crinkled her nose in disgust. "Eww," she wordlessly mouthed at Phoenix. The next moment, she was all business, Ruger Warhawk back at the ready and trained on the door.[/section]
