The art room is a pretty cheery place these days. Hazardous materials stay under lock and key, but otherwise it's bright, sort of chaotically organized (things are everywhere, but they're categorized) and paintings of what appear to be impressionistic shirred rainbows of light, or perhaps dazzling feathers, decorate a couple of the windows.

Hange did not do art before she came to the barge but she fits in, with her casual clothes splattered with old paint and evidence of where she's wiped her hands on her thighs after working with clay.

"Hi there, Randel. Been a bit."