As things went, this was not the best time to have gotten lost in New York City.
Nor the best place to have gotten lost, come to think of it. Who wanted to get lost in such a horrifically pulsing city, which looks oh-so charming and sparkling from afar, but underneath the glitz is as dirty and gruesome as a freakshow exhibit? And, looking up at the gunmetal sky, you realize something else: it's going to rain.

Well. If curiosity didn't kill the cat it certainly made it sorry for poking its nose where it didn't belong. But anyway: what are you going to do?
As the first drops of rain hit you, you look around for someplace to take shelter. All of the buildings on this street, though, are in deplorable and vaguely threatening states—if the windows aren't boarded up and the walls cracked and crumbling, then there's graffiti marking the building as a probable gang hideout. As the rain steadily increases from drops to sheets, you become more miserable and certain that either you'll either catch your death of pneumonia, or of exactly the wrong person's nailbat.

What the..." You squint uncertainly at a strange white shape approaching through the rain. It looks too short and featureless to be a person, and you try to ignore the word 'ghost' that's been creeping into your head. Anyway, you reason frantically, it's moving too quickly to...
You hiss in a breath, and turn to get the hell out of there, when suddenly you hear a faint click-click-clickclickclick—increasing in volume as it approaches—and you realize that it, whatever it is, has seen you. Before you can take another step, though, you hear a dull clank directly behind you, and know that it's too late for you to go anywhere.
You shudder, and turn around with your hands up in the universal don't-hurt-me gesture. Facing you is a... dog?

Hi," she says after a moment's pause. She doesn't look like any dog you've seen before: her fur is steely blue (no wonder you didn't see her through the pouring rain), and she has oddly colored wings that look like a car crash between a bat's and a butterfly's. Looking down, you realize that the white object you'd seen floating in the gloom was a... Hello Kitty backpack. It's soiled with rust, and has what looks like a pipe sticking out of the pocket. That's probably what had made the metallic clank.

Um," you say. "I'm really sorry if I'm intruding, I—"
Oh, dear! Are you lost?" The canine blinks at you curiously, as if you're an alien that has crash-landed in her neighborhood. She does sound concerned, though. "Aww, and stuck in the rain too! Well, you're lucky I found you, then. Don't you know there are some nasty people around here?" Even as she scolds you, she's smiling openly—for the first time since coming here you start to feel safe. The canine flips her tail, and picks up the Hello Kitty backpack, slinging it over one wing.

Tell you what, you can come with me until the rain stops! Where were you heading, er...?"
I'm guest," you tell her. "And actually, I'm a bit lost. How do you get out of here?"
The blue canine gives you a funny look. "guest? That's a weird name. You know, walk far enough in any direction and you'll get out of here." She's walking at a fast trot; you nearly have to jog to keep up with her. As she leads you further through the city, you notice the derelict buildings slowly shifting to warehouses, junkyards, industrial dumping grounds... "Oh, by the way, I'm Rauline Grimmington. But everyone calls me Raw. You can too, if you like!"

Rauline leads you to what looks like an abandoned steel warehouse. Inside, though, everything is surprisingly clean and lived-in, save for the stacks of cardboard boxes that seem to plague every other square foot of floorspace. As you lean over to see what's scrawled on the side of them (disappointingly commonplace things like "CDs", "Books", "Halloween decorations"), you trip over a toolbox and nearly knock over a tower of plastic containers.
If you could be careful, please?" you hear Raw chirp somewhere beyond the labyrinth of boxes. "I mean, not that there's anything dangerous here, haha! But there might be some live wires hanging around somewhere and anyway I don't want anything damaged."

You gingerly make your way through, keeping your head ducked just in case. Finally the boxes clear and you find yourself in the center of the warehouse. It's larger than it looked from outside, and stretches to either side for quite some way. Higher up, there are several catwalks crossing from side to side, and some lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling—most are bare, but some are shaded with newspaper. Rauline has already dropped her bag and is walking towards the far end of the warehouse. You warily follow.

As you walk past, you notice something odd and not entirely warehouse-appropriate set to the side. Is that—?" you begin.
An operating table," Raw says, as casually as though discussing the weather. "It's for my work, actually."
An operating table it is, a solid, white-topped structure lit by another overhanging lightbulb, which makes for some freaky shadowplay that evokes images of old horror movies and, vaguely, Frankenstein's lab. Behind it is a series of medicine cabinets, a sink, and a long metal table, on which is a range of mechanical gadgets, and a computer. The table itself is bare, except for a pile of white cloth, on which there lie an assortment of gleaming and cruel-looking metal instruments. At that same moment you notice that the white sheets are spattered with something ominously dark...
Um. What exactly do you work as?" you ask Raw haltingly.
Hmm? Oh, I'm a bio-mechanic," she says absently. "It's not terribly important but might take some explaining. Oh! I'm sorry, were you worried?" She only just seems to notice your anxiety, and grins sheepishly. "Look, I know it seems scary but it's just my job. Haha! I bet you're thinking I brought you here to experiment on! I can explain later, honest, but for know you just have to trust me."

Somewhat past the nightmarish operating section is another labyrinth: a junkyard of collected tires, scrap metal, pipes, and various other metal structures. It's not quite as twisty as those cardboard boxes, though, and after Raw leads you through you find yourself at the end of the warehouse, in what looks like a modest living space: a yin-yang patterned carpet, three chairs (one black bean-bag, and two inflatable in blue and pink), and a makeshift table made of pipes and a sheet of metal. Raw immediately flops onto the black bean-bag chair and beckons you over. "Come on! Have a seat, make yourself comfortable."

You settle yourself hesitantly in the blue inflatable chair. Raw, meanwhile, has flipped her goggles over her eyes, and seems to be scanning something while she talks.

Mm, the rain can't be helped but we'll have to get you home, or at least out of this part of the city, once it lets up. Now, Miku's tracked the storm down to..." She tilts her head, and, improbably, seems to be listening to something. This is all rather bizarre, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat. You're still not entirely reassured that Raw isn't a mad scientist of some sort—or even that she isn't just mad. "...yes, about half an hour, give or take some minutes." Raw flips up her goggles, and looks at you with earnest concern.
Are you sure you're okay? Look, if you need anything, just ask. I can make some tea. Do you like tea? Nothing like tea for calming the nerves," she goes on musingly. "Although Doomy would disagree, she says real tea should be like a syringe of adrenaline to the heart. I'm like, whatever."
Err. I'm okay, really," you assure her.
Okay," Rauline says cheerfully. "Well, as long as we're waiting I might as well tell you a bit about myself? It's not every day you meet an individual like me!"