Spider's Eye

The Eye is the major hub city at the metaphorical center of the Wetwork. This city has all of the usual urban bustle and function, refracted through the uniting purpose of courageous giving. It’s as much ecosystem as it is economy, and this lends the the place a semi-aquatic solarpunk atmosphere. Think Venice at twilight where half the buildings are made of plants. Full of furry blue science communists. That’s the vibe.
  The weirdest feature of Spider’s Eye can only be sixth-sensed when you’re inside it: The city is bigger on the inside. Indigo has mastered the art-sci of spatio-temporal cavitation, or “squishing space.” Like a water balloon, they can compress distances in one region and “shunt” the excess to another place. They stretch, but follow, the law of conservation of dimension. Wishrat society has leveraged this law to decrease the effective length of their canals connecting wishing wells. The space left over by all of those waterways is piled into Spider’s Eye, such that this random stone polygon maybe a dozen square feet in “true” area balloons to the size of a metropolis (scaled to rodent size, of course).
  There are other head-turning features in the city, the type of things that would draw tourists if the Eye were less secretive. A moat surrounds the city, made of the water flowing from well canals. Much of this water diverts into myriad play-pools and fountains — most notably, a massive tiered geyser that sprays upward, creating perpetual misty moonbows. Higher up the middle, a massive moondial spans the “sky,” giving subtle yet detailed information on the time and season. Most of the city is perpetually damp; it’s essentially an underground rainforest; so there are Sunbeams placed strategically throughout the city, a place where one can hang out, bright and warm and dry. Cats learned long ago wishrats aren’t good hunting, but they visit frequently to nap in the Sunbeams. And, of course, there is wishing well iconography everywhere. There are sculptures and murals, mist holograms. Finally, there’s the famous Bucket Ride, one part roller coaster, one part Ferris wheel, and elements of the log flume ride, all in cars made of repurposed buckets.
  This city is designed to be a meeting spot for any large group functions, so most wishrats will visit hundreds of times over their lives. Major schools for all age groups are hosted here, as is the central Seebeyond Observatory. There are plenty of parks and community centers, and housing available free to anyone who needs or desires it. Guests, even ones unexpected, are welcome. (Most buildings under the wells are wishrat-sized, but the Eye has other accommodations available for those occasions a Timmy joins them. Its hospitals can also handle taller patients.) Wishrat society is decidedly minimalistic when it comes to permanent belongings (having it means moving it, and they’re very mobile), so there are rather few shopping options. However, their art and food scene is neon-vibrant. Stands and restaurants dot every stretched inch of the place, and on any given night, you can find a hundred performances in every medium.
  The Eye is a place of wonder, of healing and joy. It’s the central coordination space for wishrats’ life-defining work, but that isn’t all it is. Spiders’ Eye reminds its denizens it’s just as important to take a break and live. To play.