To outsiders, Strangewarp is synonymous with the Strangevirus, the infectious liquid metal bioware that turns people into febrile, disaffected ghouls. The influence of the Strangevirus is everywhere, from the membranous webbing on the architecture, to the blobs of stolen memory in its fabled Library. But not every resident of Strange is an actual host. Strange is home to all sorts of beings of a dark and eerie disposition: monstergrrls and broken sex-dolls deemed too scary for Charm, delinquent illithids in search of new kicks, single-minded occultists willing to trade reason and compassion for knowledge, anyone else willing to stay... The Warp would never reject anyone who's willing to play along with it.
The culture of Strange is apocalyptic and primal, based on pure fulfillment of the Id. The Strangers commonly believe that all urges are self-justifying, and the individual has no obligation to others besides their own whim to help or harm. Influence upon the will of a being can not be imposed by mere guilt or altruism. It must be earned, by force, trickery, or seduction. There is no concept of moral obligation in Strange. The "an it harm none" clause has been stricken from its law, in an ink ruddy and clotted.
The Strangers justify their depravity as the logical consequence of immortality. Transcendence takes all the gravity out of the darker emotions, and all the finality out of death. Thus, so the reasoning goes, no experience is inherently more or less healthy than any other, leaving the beauty of death and disease bare for the admiration of all...
Strangewarp's society is extremely loose and chaotic, but still civilized in the sense of having complex cultural institutions. The Warp is full of delirious, cruel parodies of the customs of "healthy" societies. Besides the aforementioned Library, Strangewarp has theatres, sculpture gardens, fine dining, open-air markets, public sports, and even singles bars. (If your imagination leads you to shudder at how they apply these concepts, you're beginning to grasp Strange.)
The gregarious behavior of typical Mess residents, however, is lacking in most Strangewarp citizens. Many dismiss seeking company for its own sake as somewhat "herd-like," inappropriate to predators. Instead, social behavior tends to follow more pack-like rituals of dominance and submission rituals. The Strangers generally don't interact with their fellow citizens unless they suspect they have something direct to gain from it, even if only a moment of amusement or arousal.
Strangewarp is still a bustling city, though, if you know where to look. Strangers even rival Downers in their skill at making use of every hidden crevice of a city. Of course, Strangers have the advantage of comfort and physical safety not being real issues.
Because its residents have done away with the most trappings of mortal life, Strangewarp has perhaps become the most "transhumane" of the six known Warps. Most of its flesh-based inhabitants have had all their biological processes taken over by the Strangevirus, or left them to fail. Most Strangers aren't, strictly speaking, alive. They like to celebrate and toy with their viscerality, especially in the view of easily squicked visitors, treating their useless innards like so much decorative gadgetry.
Strangewarp's reputation for corporeal violence is not undeserved, though insanity and spiritual erosion are much more serious threats to long-term visitors. Bloodshed is more of a consequence of those hazards than an end in itself, as Strange natives and permanent guests may occasionally lose themselves to a moment of "lighthearted abandon" and accidentally dismember somebody not equipped to take it. Natives are usually all too happy to give generously of their own augmented blood to save those unfortunate enough to be injured, though, and can't really see what the big deal is about. They'll even think any deformities left behind by the flawed body-backup system are rather pretty, and often stop to complement their disfigured victims upon further encounters.
Signs of insanity and enigma abound throughout Strangewarp. Cryptic messages appear on walls. Flashes of other realities gleam in the infected silver film on the walls of buildings. Illusions hide things in plain sight. Buildings appear and disappear, moving around behind people's backs. Shrill voices whisper meaningless prophecies and unfamiliar names. Hidden ecosystems of vermin are found working in conjunction towards some nonsensical task. Strange has clearly lost all its marbles, and perhaps it is going to turn all its residents inside-out until it finds them.
Remember, the residents of Strange don't share a single disposition, not even the Viral hosts. They don't necessarily act like the stereotypical lurching psychopaths of the other Warps' imagination. And even if they are monsters, not all of them are always seeking to do harm. (This is not to say sadism isn't rampant, just that it isn't ubiquitous.) There is still kindness and dignity among the dead. A sense of haunted beauty and pathos runs deep and true in Strangewarp, underneath all the gaudy Grand Guignol, but few stay long enough to look for it.