As the progeny of manmade conurbations, the Grand Dreadnought had two things that it needed to live up to. The first and former was to pierce the skylines with jagged, geometric edifices rife with lights that frequently triumphed over the stars. From there, the second is rather obvious. While there can be branches of debauchery littering the city, there needed to be an epicenter of reverberation and inebriation. Erected on the south side of the Triumvirate, The Fractal Sprawl was just such a place. Festooned in rhythmically pulsating, luminescent Julia sets, boasting harrowing feats of architecture – even with juxtaposed to a space station that rivaled the contents of a planet. Its avant-garde stylings and sublime, nigh sophisticated atmosphere interspersed throughout the riff-raff that stained the circuitry-etched floor made it the premier tourist attraction for those predisposed to the night life. If its ‘cyberpunk with sprinkles of post-modernism’ presentation did nothing to impress, its modus would. While it did stick with typical bar arrangement, the waitresses donned pentagon-patterned skintight attire that negated the station’s artificial gravity – allowing for fluid, and provocative, movement throughout the bar’s three vining stories. To the untrained eye, all of this would be nothing but a blur of effulgence and gleaming noveau-riche – but a more astute visitor notice a particular hieroglyph appearing and reappearing about the lounge: first on the sides of the speakers that straddled the DJ, then upon the upper thighs of the curvaceous employees that navigated the Sprawl with uncanny dexterity, flowing through air as if it were water… It was rather tiny embroidery, only making itself known upon direct contact with one of the lounges many, many lights: one abstracted T with an L adjacent to it, with a heavily pixelated ‘TajLabs’ beneath it. Noticing one brought the others into view until one’s inspection would find a strapping young anthropomorph devoid of color, dressed in casual faire, from hoodie to cargo pants with splotches of reflective thread wove in as an accent. Circular rims glistened, casting sparks of light unto his breast pocket which acted as an anchor for a gold-plated TL pin. Despite an appearance unbefitting of an official, the monochromate was surrounded by executives, some more stoned-faced and incensed than others. All their attention was directed towards him as he sat supporting his head with a palm and his visage with a well-positioned finger. “So, you say the new L.U.N.A. Home models should be available for retail…when?” rose one of the dapper representatives, “Sorry to belabor the issues, but we’d like to have an estimate so we can arrange the ad campaign accordingly.” Jovial but not without its hairs of fatigue, the adolescent chirped back, “Oh, that? Pfft. It’ll be perfected by late this quarter. I want to make sure I’ve ironed out all the kinks, you know? You saw the prototype for yourselves! That’s not something you want traipsing around your home with the kids. I’ll be removing all functions deemed unnecessary so the personality chip will be somewhat modular.” “And what of your derisive comments towards Malum Incorporated?” intoned the second, blighted by spurts of red beneath his fur, “Do you plan on retracting them?” “What kind of question is that? I’m sorry, but you knew exactly what you were buying into with a company with the prefix ‘MAL’. If they continue trying to sow the seeds of martial law in the Grand Dreadnought, I will continue to publically malign them. Simple as that! NEXT QUESTION!” “Tahajin, please,” the executive clearly beginning to hyperventilate, “You’re making enemies with a superpowe-…” “Hey, anyone curious about that new ocular operating system I’m coming out with in May?” A glint of cobalt darted past the possat's peripheral vision. Under normal circumstances, he'd ignore it - especially seeing most of the building was swathed in variants of blue, but this...this had been an ongoing thing for the entire night. Each time, he could only steal a infinitesimal apercu before the figure seemingly cloaked itself - a staggering accomplishment in this day and age. "Say, would you guys mind if we reschedule? I have some pressing matters to attend to regarding...emigration. Yeah, that's the one! Oh, Malum guy? Feel free to fax me your list of vituperative. I'll probably need a laugh with I get back to my apartment!" Making his way out of the booth, Tahajin ambled towards the door - attempting to look casual as he dialed his personal ops team through his pocket.