It was a welcoming haven. The Mauvian base. While the headquarters seemed specially suited for smaller bodies, the entire area could still be mistaken for a human residence. Hallways moved in a subnetwork and branched off into corridors. Doors lined the walls, some permanently open to avoid locking any mauvians in or just for those with the predispotion of not knowing if they wanted in the room or out. Others were locked, and he had noticed some emitting strange light under the crack of their doorframes or some with the faint smell of something burning. Elsewhere he could smell someone baking. Each Mauvian was allowed a room but it wad their task to find it, clean it, and provide it with whatever furnishings or devices to call it your own. While the rooms were seems are more workplaces, some had the clear indications of a home. Not all mauvians had owners after all.

Arthur had never needed a room. He had various sensei he visted and few possessions in the past. Now he had a home but didn't want to risk working there. Last he needed was for him to have the same mishap he had when helping Phact with her flashlight and taking out a window with the blast.

Ever since helping Phact and investing more time studying technology, he wanted a workspace to dedicate for it. Also, selfishly, he admitted that he wanted a place to be in his other form. It was still new to him and yet it felt right to him. Curious. Intriging. And yet it also gave him the faint feeling of remembrance without being able to recall anything as to why he had that feeling. It was exciting and frustrating at the same time, like staring at an ornate door and knowing something wonderful was behind it.

Steiding through the place on two legs, he touched his hair and then his ears, always finding an excuse to try and familiarize himself with his body. As he did, he tested doors. Stuck. Claimed.

He found a vacant room but came with the heavy smell of burnt fur. Another vacant 2 hallways over had a black stain on the ground he could only hope was oil. Another room was small. Another a peculiar shape. He found a pleasantly well maintained one but he could hear drilling next door and gritted his teeth. Quiet. He wanted quiet.

Tail puffed he continued to walk and decided he would keep going till he could find a remote place. Turning amd moving he kept heading away from the occupied hallways and noises until his ears perked and he stopped. Sloely turning, he looked st a pile of old computers pilled up but noticed a dust bunny that he haf kicked up float past and behind it. Tilting his head. He moved over and looked through the wall of old, unclaimed machinery and noticed there was no wall behind it. Reaching over, he grabbed the corner and started to tug and wiggle the machines back and forth over and over till they provided a gap. Luckily he wasn't as plump as some mauvians.

Squeezing through, he saw there was a hallway completely blocked by the spare parts. However the corridor had no rooms on either side like the others.

As he moved he found one door at the end. "Please be unclaimed." He whisperrd and felt the door was unlocked. Relieved, he opened it and stepped in. It was dark and he felt the walls for a switch. With a click a hard pop came from lights going out while a few flickered to life.

The room wasn't like the others at all. Large in comparison to the studios he had seen, it was lined with dusty, empty shelves. A old desk sat against a wall and old papers laid here and there. He moved slowly into the room, feeling the dust coat his bare feet as he turned slowly.

And there again was that old stirring that old feeling of recollection with nothing to remember coming to mind. A sense of something. Of self. Or past. Of presence. He didn't want it to go. He wanted to submerge himself in it. To breathe it in until his lungs hurt and it poured through every orfice. He wanted it to become blood and air in him. To maybe finally open a reason for this feeling of something stirring in the far reaches of his mind as new and foreign as his 2-legged body Then, of it's own will, a thought came. "Library."

He turned to look at the bare shelves. "This...it can be a library." The database was a sad thing. They knew it hadn't been updated in some time. But even he knew the value of physical documentation. The smell of lines of books. A central breathing, physical network of archieves.

He wanted it before he even knew he had that desire in him.

Turning about, he rose his hands up amd to no one st all, shouted. "MINE!"