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About Gizmo

  • Rank
    The Tiger-Force at the Core of All Things
  • Birthday March 10
  1. Quarrel in the Quarry

    Winifred sucked in a hissing breath as the moving shapes were revealed by the flare. "Really, Smith?!" she barked in reprimand, backing quickly away from the edge of the water. "'Just gonna pop a flare'," she repeated with a passable imitation of Riley's accent while she fumbled about in her bag to take stock of which flasks she'd packed for the excursion. "Men." She glanced back in the direction of the motorcycle before returning her attention to the churning waters. "Should we make a run for it?" Rebukes aside she still trusted the woodsman's experience when it came to surviving encounters with inhuman creatures. She just hadn't been planning on participating in a demonstration.
  2. A to Z (Everything Changes, Except When it Doesn't)

    Winifred sat through the rush of not entirely solicited information with the impeccably neutral expression of someone with a lot of experience both being talked at from before her petrification and hearing long strings of largely incomprehensible information since being revived. "I see." She at least made a mental note of the book's title. Toxicology wasn't her speciality so she expected she still had quite a bit of catching up to do on the subject. "It is rather a large campus, I have to assume a practice space could be found. Or created, really. With all the accommodations and countermeasures in place I have to assume a little soundproofing would be a simple enough thing." She one shoulder to ease some of the strain from sitting on the uneven ground. "I practice the bass guitar with a friend in his dormitory room. Our respective roommates are an item as it happens so scheduling hasn't proven much of an issue."
  3. Elevator Pitch

    "Ah, well! The more interesting pieces are indeed intended for a very particular sort of 'busy woman'. Or gentleman. Or, ah, otherwise inclined." Winifred generally found herself playing an awful lot of catchup when it came to identity politics but she did like to make an effort. "Individuals who might have to work around unique colouring, for example." She pulled a riser tray out of the tool box and set it down on the coffee table. Along the top row was a version of the suite of cosmetics she'd engineered for Cathy's paleness. The shelf below them had an identical row of products but suited for someone with lavender skin and below that a set that would have been quite striking against a metallic silver. "Or who might require something suited to reptilian scales or velvet-like fur. Someone of a primarily aquatic disposition, even." The alchemist produced another tray, this one featuring several bottles of the same brown-black colour but each labeled with a different formula and accompanied by an appropriate applicator. She set that down next to the other tray before pursing her lips slightly and running a finger down a row of containers in the back of the tool box. "Of course the need might be less one of physiology and more a question of... flag waving, as you say. Here." She produced what looked to be a fairly sober, business appropriate shade of eyeshadow and extended it toward Ms. Albright. "This was formulated with a friend in mind but you possess telekinesis, correct? If you would, try some of that on your hand then vibrate the air about an inch or so above, enough to generate a bit of heat."
  4. Knock on the Door Job(IC)

    Lou grunted as the baton struck his ribs, a flicker of anger cutting through the detached expression he'd worn since appearing from the shadows. "I'm about done here anyway," he responded to what must have seemed like the empty air to his opponents just before exploding into action. The closest of the remaining trio received a vicious one-two combination to the jaw that sent him reeling to the left then the right before a third punch to the stomach doubled him over, wind driven from his lungs. The other two made the mistake of standing too close to each other as Lou stalked toward them. He grabbed each of their heads and slammed them together with enough force to lift their feet from the ground then spiked them downward to bounce awkwardly off of the floor before falling into a groaning, tangled pile. Muttering to himself Lou prodded his ribs through his dress shirt for a few moments before retrieving his jacket and slipping it back on with a wince. "You got what we needed?" he asked Sofia, barely seeming winded from his exertions. "Let's go."
  5. Knock on the Door Job (OOC)

    Lou Toughness Save vs DC 21: 1d20+8 15 Whoop, that won't do. Toughness Save vs DC 21, HP Reroll: 1d20+8 10 Jeez. Still takes a bruise after the +10. Ah well. Attack Guard; Power Attack 3, Master Plan +3: 3#1d20+10 27 27 20 Using the provided Takedown Attack. DC 24 Toughness Saves.
  6. Elevator Pitch

    "Oh, the standard line outperforms the, ah, 'drugstore tier' on anyone within the usual human range, it's simply a question of holding oneself to a standard higher than 'good enough'," Winifred clarified. "Everything I'm wearing right now comes from that selection." She quickly indicated each of the containers Raina had opened to do her makeup practically without looking, so familiar was she with her own handiwork. "I have been working on acquiring patents, although the process is... byzantine. Really, the secret is the process more than the ingredients. Which, admittedly, makes mass production past a certain point largely untenable without a considerably investment in skilled labour." She produced her hand-lettered graphs, each one packed with information in neat calligraphy that outlined material costs and the optimal level of production that could be reached without sacrificing quality. Not every chemist was suited to learning alchemical techniques; it required a looser adherence to certain established rules. "What you have there isn't too difficult, the qi distillation is the more delicate step and there's no reason a version couldn't be formulated that isn't also a moisturizer and cleanser, I suppose. It's far more a concern with the special line up." She allowed herself a bit of theatre, raising her eyebrows dramatically in a way very much enhanced by her uncharacteristically bold liner.
  7. Elevator Pitch

    Winifred blinked a few times at the explanation of her options, nonplussed. Raina had made a good point earlier in the day but the alchemist hadn't been expecting it to be reiterated in quite that way. "Er, well," she began lamely only to clear her throat and regroup. "That is, why don't I show you what I've developed so far?" Undoing the latches of the toolbox she lifted the lid and let it unfold itself into tray after tray packed with bottles of nail polish, small pots made from burnished aluminum for eye shadow and blush, similarly crafted tubes of lip colour and more. Some of the trays held risers that looked to have been custom made to accommodate yet more little containers. Each was labeled in neat handwriting with a letter and number though the specific method of organization escaped Alex at a glance. "Probably best to start with the foundation," Winifred suggested with the delivery of someone who'd practiced a joke too many time in the mirror. She indicated a row of colours in a gamut of skin tones. "Everything in the basic assortment is hypoallergenic and resists smudging or perspiration without the need for a setting powder, though naturally the results are best when it can be formulated specifically for the wearer's personal pH level." She paused to give Alex a small frown. "You don't run especially alkaline, I hope?"
  8. Elevator Pitch

    Off-kilter as she was Winifred felt her cheeks colour slightly as she put the toolbox down as delicately as its weighty metal allowed. In private moments she might have admitted to herself that there was something appealing about a pronounced height difference between partners but a foot and a half seemed like a genuine medical risk. That was not a train of thought she'd have usually had but trying not to think about things one shouldn't think about around a telepath was proving more difficult than anticipated. Ms. Albright's reputation for not prying with her abilities was sterling but then how would anyone know differently? That probably wasn't a useful train of thought, either. She took a seat on the couch with her legs neatly crossed and back ramrod straight despite the cushions. No, of course. Thank you for meeting with me in your home." The modern American school system was one of the things that had been explained to her as she was being enrolled at the Academy. "That must be a... very large man around very small children."
  9. Elevator Pitch

    Remembering that Ms. Albright had been a student at the Academy herself only a handful of years prior did not have quite the intended effect when confronted with the towering AEON building. If anything Winifred was glad that the campus was far enough from the city proper that she didn't have to contend with the vertigo inducing view from street level on a daily basis. The high speed elevator was a similarly disconcerting experience and by the time she entered the unexpectedly open 'apartment' her knees were threatening mutiny with each step. Good English manners saved the say as she reflexively responded to the question while most of her concentration went toward walking and not hitting anything with the large red toolbox she was carrying. "Tea would be lovely, thank you." Her hostess' casual attire made her wonder if she's overdressed after all but she took the riot of colour in the apartment as a good sign. That was an aesthetic to which she was prepared to cater. She hesitated near the couches, debating whether or not to set the toolbox down on the coffee table or floor or perhaps simply holding it in her lap; scratching the furniture would be a poor way to start the meeting.
  10. Elevator Pitch

    Winifred gave Raina a look when she mentioned prostitution but had enough self-control to avoid moving her face too much. That resolve was strained as the witch took her chin in her hand and she nearly overcompensated by pulling back. She thanked her own prescience in making the cosmetics resistant to sweat without the need for a layer of something to set them and held her breath while the little brush tickled again her lips. She was reasonably confident that she held a neutral expression until Raina was finished but the moment the lip colour was applied she gave in to reflex and parted her lips enough to run the tip of her tongue from one corner to another. She didn't realize she'd still been holding her breath until she turned around to look at her reflection in the mirror and let it out. "I hardly recognize myself," she admitted, "which I believe counts as a success." The eyes in the mirror belonged to someone cool and collected, the small smile drew attention and suggested a private joke. "I think I'm prepared to 'strike 'em dead'." She turned to give Raina a broader smile and a pair of thumbs up.
  11. A to Z (Everything Changes, Except When it Doesn't)

    "I didn't understand any of those references," Winifred noted with a small shrug. It was difficult to tell when someone was talking about something current or lumping in names from the previous two hundred years and missing the mark on the years she had actually experienced. It certainly all blended into an incomprehensible mess from her perspective. Still, she couldn't help but look at Corinne deflating and feel that she was failing fundamentally at what might have been a critical time for the other girl. "Hrm. Well, in the meantime... You mentioned a 'drum kit', yes? That would be one of the big, pedal operated drums surrounded by smaller ones on stands?" She tried to describe the arrangement she'd seen with her hands, unsure how clear she was being. "I do know of a local shop that sells used musical equipment at a reasonable price, if that might help you feel more at home?" She attempted a reassuring smile that likely looked a bit forced.
  12. Quarrel in the Quarry

    With a small glass orb full of sloshing liquid in hand Winifred moved to stand a few paces behind Riley as he inspected the water. "Admittedly my curiosity is piqued, Smith but I did not intend to go swimming today while I was selecting my wardrobe this morning." She could tread water passably well thanks to the Academy's physical education classes but diving through unmapped underwater tunnels seemed out of the question. "If there's no immediate threat we could return with proper equipment and greater numbers. Or simply report what we've seen; I assume there must be someone who's job it is to deal with the like." Nothing in her tone sounded particularly hopeful that her friend would listen to the voice of caution.
  13. A to Z (Everything Changes, Except When it Doesn't)

    "Well. 'Normal' is a terribly mutable thing," Winifred pointed out, taking conspicuously deep breaths as she walked herself back from the precipice of genuine anger. "People flying through the air under their own power hardly strikes me a 'normal' but one must pick and choose the battles she fights." Taking immediately photographs with a device the size of a small notepad then sharing them invisibly through the aether did not strike her as particularly normal eother but she suspected that wasn't what Corinne was referencing. "I do very much doubt there is any pill they might prescribe to do away with the question altogether," she continued with a sympathetic glance. "Speaking as the daughter of an apothecary, anyone with a cure-all is likely... Americans call it 'selling snake oil', I believe, though only because your oil contained no extract of snake whatsoever!" That was probably more information about the marketing of medicine than Corinne wanted but it had been a bit of a sore subject around the Wei household growing up. "Regardless, even performing trials to gauge the efficacy of anything you might take will take time. I apologize for being blunt but a speedy return to the life you knew seems unlikely."
  14. A to Z (Everything Changes, Except When it Doesn't)

    Winifred closed her eyes and let out a long breath through her nose, keeping her expression carefully neutral while silently reciting the elements. She probably should have been more interested in whatever was going on in the blonde's hands but engineering eye shadow to work with Cathy and Raina's respective powers had gone a long way toward normalizing such displays for her. "Corinne. You're talking about something in your biology affecting your brain chemistry, yes? That's not a metaphor for mental illness, it is literally the very definition of mental illness. Frankly I don't appreciate being called 'mad' nor your attitude toward medication as a component of management but I appreciate that you're not at your best just now." The smaller teenager was audibly grinding her teeth by the end of the sentence and took a moment to roll a knot out of her shoulders before opening her eyes. "Perhaps I'm getting ahead of things. I assumed you wished to speak with me for advice. If you're not at that point yet and simply need to vent your frustrations at a cruel and unfair universe, that is perfectly understandable and I can empathize." She turned her head to look Corinne directly in the eyes and it was difficult to miss how carefully she was controlling her breathing. "I might suggest, however, that there are better people to shout and swear at."
  15. Set in His Ways

    Set frowned slightly at the crimson armour, raising a hand to shield his eyes against the sun in a gesture that was more theatre than strictly necessary. The technological accoutrement wasn't familiar but there was only one person the godling could think of who would commit so wholeheartedly to that colour scheme and insect motif. Or rather several people, sharing one bâ. It was a story both complicated and tremendously amusing, from a divine perspective. "Oi, Heru-Ra!" the godling shouted at the top of his lungs, hands cupped around his mouth before raising them to wave at the newcomer. "Did you get your hilarious buttocks killed again? How many times does that make, you cheeky so-and-so?"