No one in Shangrila is ever alone. Not for long.
No matter what form The City bestows on the individual, all will eventually find a group that will welcome them with open arms. They are save havens in the chaos that is Shangrila, friendly faces, regardless of the circumstances. A place to relax, feel at home and be themselves.
Even the Clans, who believe themselves to be the Masters of the City, playing their political games against each other and groups they believe oppose them, present all this to their members.
They can be places of faith.
They can be places of knowledge.
They can be places of found family.
But they can never, no matter how much the Clans may pretend, be places of power.
For power, power resides with the City and the City alone. No mere mortal may ever have any real power in or over the City.
And if they appear to do, it is likely the City merely humouring them in their delusion.