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Rubelite and Starchildren
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There exists a room, currently empty of humans but nonetheless full of life.  Its furniture is upholstered in plush fabrics where they aren't smooth wood or gleaming metal; there's a perfumed quality to the air, whether it comes from the plants growing in pots or the bouquet arranged in that vase over there or a hidden collection of bottled fragrances.  Afternoon light streams onto the floor, and onto one of the few of the piles of clothes that rest upon it.  A changing screen with adjustable blinds sets one corner, full of eclectic bookshelves and two desks (one solid and regal; the other queerly built into the wall), apart.

The other side of the room has a lounging area, and past that, a table for four and a kitchenette, cluttered with implements and strange decorations and a few dirty dishes.

 

Although most pairs of objects here wouldn't match very well if put next to each other, the room as a whole has an eclectic kind of cohesivity to it.

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Wow, that's overstimulating for a small percentage of a spaceship. She revolves slowly on the spot, expressionless.

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There are more things visible

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the more she turns!

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None of these things is helping her find herself at all.

Are any of them usable electronics parts she could use to build things?

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There's an alarm clock / radio / CD player and a toaster oven and two portable CD players with headphones and a blender and a bunch of lights, some of which have timers!

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That's not really an ideal array but she can get started with it. Are there tools for controlled disassembly?

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Not immediately visible!

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Maybe she can figure out the door!

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Well, there are pieces of fabric hanging off of hooks near the top of it, and a mostly-clear knobbly little sticky-outy part on one side at about hip height with a larger metal plate behind it, and some cylinders of stacked metal pieces on the opposite side near the top and bottom.

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She stares at these things for a while and finally starts trying various manipulations of the handle. She does eventually try twisting it.

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There's another person right on the other side of the door!  Whether he's been there the whole time or her attempts at the door were louder than the sound of his approach is hard to say.

"- Hello."

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"Hello!"

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"I didn't know we were expecting anyone."

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"I didn't know that either! Who are you expecting?"

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"Well, of people to find in this room: my husband, mostly."

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"I didn't see anyone else in there."

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"So what were you doing in there?"

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"Definitely not being your husband!"

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"I'd gathered!  What's your name?"

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"Hmmmmmmmmmmm. Is it important that I have the same name as me?"

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"I was mostly fishing for something to guess at your birthday with, so if you feel like telling me that separately then it's not important at all!"

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"I wasn't born."

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"Oh?"

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"What were you instead?"

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