If Padparadscha is quiet during their ruminations, it is lost on Rutile; they nod at their words, but the gesture is vague, hardly paying attention. "Some stone," they say as they enter the Core. "Wood. Other things too, that I haven't had time to analyze. The technology is made of metal. The windows in the shops are glass; I can't imagine who thought that was a good idea."

The interior of the Core is not busy at this time of day; most people are out at the Tourney, and the few that may be at work are nowhere to be seen. This does not bother Rutile, who takes a quick look around the lobby before heading off down a hallway - any hallway. They do pause to read signs and posters as they go, systematically taking in the unfamiliar jargon, but they're more interested in finding someone to talk to. Thus they duly check each door they pass, looking for signs of life, until they finally find someone sneaking around on their yimo during a break.