By and large, your room is empty. You are so shut in, it never occurred to you that it could do with some furnishing. Most of your needs have been covered by what you already own. Food rations are delivered through the ceiling via pneumatic tube, which has often caught you by surprise. Nothing ruins a good morning laze-about more than mashed Electrosite to the face. You prefer Pyrosites anyway, they taste better.
The device on the far left is used for preparing the drink that helps you sleep, though it tastes so vile you often opt to deal with the insomnia over consuming that mud water. Terron beds are nothing more than a large squidgy cushion. The tank of water houses Gerard, your pet Electrosite and frankly, your closest pal. The socket on the wall can connect you to the Virtual Terron Web. The view over the balcony is nice, or would be if the civilisation outside didn't send shivers of disgust down your iron spine.