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  1. Sunday, December 3, 2023 The pop-up shop hadn't been Winifred's idea. Conducting business entirely though correspondence hadn't been a foreign concept to her even before spending the better part of a decade acclimating to the 'future' and minimizing face-to-face interactions suited her just fine. Chrysopoeia had grown considerably as a company in the fast few years, however and both the marketing consultantation team she'd hired through AEON and her in-house 'social media' person had agreed that a physical presence was a must during the Yuletide season. Given the bespoke - and sometimes volatile - nature of her products that meant that Winifred herself needed to be on-hand. And so the petite Englishwoman paced about the polished wooden tables in the small Hanover storefront, the combination of warm tones and glassware evoking some idealized remembrance of the laboratories of her youth. She wore a pine green sleeveless turtleneck, leaving the sleeve tattoo on her left arm on display, metallic ink that caught the light to look like spun wire, along with loose black trousers. Her actual lab wear was in the consultation room behind her in an attempt to look more inviting, an affectation her imperious resting expression already made something of a challenge.
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