Mai is a slightly tall, but quite lanky girl just turned eighteen.  She has medium brown hair with faint traces of dark auburn dye remaining.  Her face is a slgihtly angular oval shape, and at an angle her nearly black eyes can appear to push out of their smoothly curved lid.  Normally, she would generally wear basic patterns done on simple, elegant cuts: peasant tops, durable halters, soft shorts or sari skirts.  Overall, see generally looked the pleasant end of average, practical youth.<br/><br/>(Technically, if it matters: she starts at 5'6, 120 lbs, measures 31b-22-32.)<br/><br/>Mai is from a lower middle class family.  Nothing special, but they doted on their daughter and their little end of the telecom business made enough to send her to the university.  Now on her first break, she came to this city to stay with a friend in the music industry.  She has been thinking about learning to jockey for clubs or concerts with their glitzy holograms and ethereal mixers, or maybe even programming something herself.  So she thought she might see what that scene is like, even though it does seem a bit of a stretch for a girl fresh out of a small industrial town in the middle of nowhere.  She never quite made it to where she was going, though.<br/><br/>She sat up slowly, a lithe hand pressed to her groggy forehead, rubbing the palish gold skin.  She remembered leaving the station, walking to a cab, sharing a cab because of course anything rental in the city would be exorbitant...  There was a little small talk and she'd been paying attention to the towers zipping past, and then the man must have grabbed her -- she could remember vaguely a press of hands, a strange thick smell...<br/><br/>And now she was here.  She blinked and looked up away from the bubbly, liquid-filled pad she was on, resting on a monochrome shelf attached to a wall.  All the walls were the same blue-grey color.  The room was only a few meters across, with a single mechanical door on a track and no obvious controller here to open it.  It made her think of a prison.  If it was a prison though, why had she ended up here wearing only her travel undies, a front-zip white sports bra framed with black borders over her 31b buds, and the matching bottom over her equally compact waist.  An odd pair of simple, soft slippers sat by the door.  Not anything she had brought along, but the shape reminded her a little of her old ballet slippers...  She glanced at the light fixtures anxiously, wondering if one of those things might be a camera...  What was going on?  Where was this place?