[ the look that kaveh gives the boltcutter is dirty. it's a look that would have dragged itself out of the sewers, looked down at itself, determined that it wasn't dirty enough, and ollied back for a second go at it. ]

How am I supposed to show you? I haven't any lights. [ but kaveh is thinking as he is tugged forward, stepping past a pile of wooden planking that will eventually turn into a semi-private slat wall divider so he can take a closer look at the mirrors. five kaveh's look back. the crow's nest of his hair hangs somewhere along the line of his jaw, outline in pale swathes. kaveh looks, he thinks, as if he hasn't slept in three days. kaveh feels as if he hasn't slept in ten. his nail-bitten fingers skim the line of a polished mirror, and then turn his head so that he can give the edges a proper look. ]

It'll be a line of lights around here. Gentle light, very dim, almost the same as the glow you have in some of your VIP rooms - the shadows will cast along the sides. It'll give the impression that not only are your mirrors slightly aglow, but that they're suspended along the walls.

[ hm. ] Perhaps I'll find the lights that can change colour with the touch of a button. You can set the ambiance based on the theme of the week or the month, or whatever incomprehensible rubric you've picked for your theming.