[You know how, when pharaohs were buried, their pyramids were basically constructed to be the most elaborate and intricate storehouses for every possible luxury and comfort any single person could possibly need, and then further stuffed full of a bunch of expensive shit just so that when Anubis came for the pharaoh he'd be aware that he was coming to claim someone who was Kind Of A Big Deal?

That's essentially this house. A modern-day pyramid, of sorts.

What's curious, though, is that even Carmen seems a little bit exasperated with all of it; the general tone she seems to take to her surroundings is more one of nebulous impatience than of revelry.

Still, it's equally clear that she's aware of where everything in her house actually is, because she deposits the wine on the counter before fishing down a pair of glasses from a cupboard and setting them on the granite-topped island, which helpfully has a row of padded barstools tucked under an extended lip for comfortable sitting.]

I wasn't the one who picked it out, believe it or not. My mentor arranged for it for me, when he politely insisted I come here for the foreseeable future.

[She nudges aside the two Retrospec boxes piled neatly on the island, making some room, and then goes to dig in one of the drawers for a corkscrew.]

I think the idea was that I was supposed to relax and recuperate. Who could've anticipated I'd end up doing anything but.