Somewhere in between another set of fabric walls, she got a glimpse of the party's actual main stage and the live performers playing their alternative-pop set. They were masked, too, though theirs were painted in bright, almost luminescent colors. Fuchsia, pink, orange, and a greener-than-green that looked like something out of a Discordian nightmare. Still, they, and the music they were playing, fit everything going on in this hyper-modern madhouse. Even the faint smell of fish from the actual, still-in-use warehouse next door somehow fit the atmosphere. She was sure the artist in charge of everything would say it 'accentuated the ultra-realism of the event,' or some crap like that.