As much as academics would like to think otherwise, corporate offices and laboratories were very much the same in one very broad way. Every little detail was carefully manufactured for a certain effect. Most of the time, it was bland cultural neutrality that favored nothing. Though the magazines were old and outdated, they were nevertheless carefully picked and surveyed to appeal to the maximum amount of people. The artwork, such as it was, was technically pleasing yet held very little artistic life. The walls were neither dark nor light and the chairs... well, the chairs never quite made you comfortable enough to feel rested.<br/><br/>Spying the cover of one of the magazines brought a small smile came to Ophelie's face as she approached the receptionist. The featured article was about a new hypothesis on the development of subspace harmonics. 'Revolutionary' said one of the tag words splashed across the cover, interlaced with images of stars and nebula. She had heard about that hypothesis, in fact, and had known the writer of the article. It was a shame that the magazine was more than a handful of years old and the writer had died several years after; she'd read the article when she was in summer school taking an extra credit course with that same writer.<br/><br/>"Ophelie Summerfeld. I have an appointment with Mr. Vostock."<br/><br/>It was more a statement than anything else as Ophelie didn't bother to wait for an answer that wouldn't answer anything and took a seat next to the stack of magazines. Placing one knee over the other, the human female plucked one of the aging magazines and began to thumb through it.