Stiles had been making it a habit to show up at the different evening events, because it wouldn't surprise him if there was some sort of quota in place that no one had been told about. But the events of the day hadn't interested him: art had never been his thing, unless it was interactive in ways there weren't just visual, and the less said about boxing rings, the better. From the rumors, it's not the kind of boxing he would appreciate.

Initially, he considered showing up at the art gallery anyway, making his way there after dinner in the commissary, but he'd changed his mind after seeing some of the pieces on display, taking a side street into a different area of the sector, where the buildings have an oddly church-like vibe. Church-like, if flat sheet metal and bright neon lights fit into the mental image a church would normally conjure.

Stiles walks into the closest building with it's doors open, and is immediately greeted by another citizen, wearing a red jumpsuit who kindly informs him that the exit is through the doors at the other end. Several other people are in the room, most of them stare down at panels set into the wall.

The building has an origami ceiling covered in fans and hanging pipes. As the fans blow across them, different sounds can be heard. He notices that the sounds change whenever someone touches the panels in front of them, creating an eerie harmony. He wonders if anyone else finds it slightly uncomfortable; as the pitch rises, he swears his hair is standing on end.

He's hurrying towards the exit when he notices Tony, they room together, but that's about the extent of what he knows about him. The dude looks like he's pretty preoccupied, but in here? Stiles heads towards him, and when he's close enough to be heard, asks: "Are you actually listening to this?" He gestures vaguely at the pipes above them.

The sounds are changing again.