ic Freedom's Finest: Laws of Repulsion

[Gizmo]

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.

[Huckleberry]

Rot

 

The shop door opened with a jingle and a young woman, a girl really, walked in with an uncertain expression, her eyes darting left and right. "Uh, hey . . . this is chrisopy, uh chrysumpilla, right? I'm, uh Consuelo Nunez, and I've got an appointment at eleven. But I'm uh, a little early. Uh, are you Winifred?" She was edging away from the polished looking salon owner and towards an empty corner of the store, as though Winifred bite her or something. 

 

Spoiler

(-5) Untouchable: Consuelo’s powers render her touch or even close proximity repulsive. An NPC (or PC maybe too?) that physically touches her with no more than clothing between shifts 2 attitude categories towards Hostile (DC 10+Rot’s PL Will Save to resist). Even being within Rot’s PL in feet close to her results in a 1 attitude category shift towards hostile (Same Will Save to resist). This has no effect on constructs or undead.

(-2) Why we can’t have nice things: Objects that Consuelo contacts for an extended time (clothing, chairs, mattresses, spacesuits, etc.) slowly decay away. Cumulative damage to the object is resolved as being hit by a Corrosion attack of Rank equal to the number of hours of contact, divided by 3, up to her PL. She has a super suit that redirects all this damage to sacrificial material touching the suit (usually a cloth wrap) over the course of 16 hours. Without the sacrificial material, even the super suit would soon be worn away. The suit provides no protection for other objects she touches, just the super suit itself.

 

Edited December 4, 2023 by Gizmo

[Gizmo]

Winifred finished straightening a row of round metal tins on the shelf she was inspecting before turning to address the young woman. They were likely about the same height but the older woman's straight backed posture and the teenager's uncertain hunch made her seem larger, an uncommon experience for the alchemist. "Ms. Nunez, welcome." She steepled her lean fingers together and gave Consuelo an openly appraising once over. The unusual hair colour didn't earn a second glance while the layers of threadbare clothes received further scrutiny. Winifred was intimately familiar with the markers of an unhoused youth but something about the wear patterns on Consuelo's outfit nagged at her analytical mind.

 

"Chrysopoeia, from the Greek. The transmutation of base metals into gold. A bit heavy handed, admittedly but one makes allowances for the sake of alliteration." Winifred made an effort to soften her expression for the sake of her guest, stepping away from the display shelves to allow another customer browsing a clear path to the till without closing the distance between them. "I am Winifred Wei, yes and on the contrary I appreciate the punctuality. Our mutual alma mater arranged for the visit but as a matter of privacy didn't divulge what specific needs you might have. At a glance I think we can safely begin with a moisturizer but beyond that I'm all ears." She gestured to the torn and ragged top of one of her ears with a faint smile. "May I take your coat?"

[Huckleberry]

Rot

 

Consuelo’s level of anxiety ratchets up as she runs out of room to back up into. In the moment of her defeat, she becomes resigned, shrugs her shoulders, and blows out a little puff of air.

 

I guess this lady is gonna hafta get close. Might as well just rip the bandaid off. 

 

"Hey uh, yeah, uh please take my coat. But I should warn ya, I've got this condition that kinda gives people the creeps when they get near me."  She hands Winifred her long black coat with a little apologetic smile. Her clothing underneath appears fairly ordinary, except that her tee shirt and slacks both are full of little holes and loose threads.

 

"So that's one of my problems. The other is this: you see the makeup I'm wearing?" There might be a little bit of makeup residue on her face from a less than thorough clean up job, but the green-haired teen could hardly be called made-up. "This morning I did a full job. The works. Now there's hardly anything left."

 

Consuelo takes out a cheap lipstick and holds it up. "If I try to, I can make the decay happen faster."  She smears on some lipstick, presses her lips together and smiles. Within seconds the color is completely gone.

 

"Ya got anything that can help me, doc?"

 

 

[Gizmo]

As Winifred stepped forward, hand outstretched to accept the coat, a violent muscle spasm wracked through her right arm. Even a few feet away Consuelo couple hear a squelching pop and grinding as the alchemist’s wrist bent at an unnatural angle.

 

Lips pressed into a tight line Winifred took a half step back, exhaling through her nose and gripping the burnished metal moulding set into the closest display shelf. For a brief moment luminous green veins pulsed beneath he let skin, then the spasms subsided. “Hm. ‘The creeps,’ indeed. Kenneth?”

 

The bald, lanky man behind the counter at the rear of the room hurriedly finished checking out the customer he was helping and took in the deep indentations Winifred’s grip had left in the metal. “Aw jeez, sure sure, no problem!” he called in a cheerful Bostonian accent, shooting the green haired teenager a reassuring smile. “We got some spare shelf bits in the storeroom, I got ya.”

 

“Thank you, Kenneth,” Winifred replied without looking over her shoulder. Taking a more deliberate step toward Consuelo this time she took the girl’s coat. “My apologies, Ms. Nunez. We all have our challenges, of course. Now, if you’ll follow me to the consultation room, I would like to get a more precise definition of ‘decay’. Do you know if you are breaking down chemical bonds? Molecular? Accelerating relative experienced time? Is there an endothermic component? Are specific material exempt?” The prim scientist rattled off the questions matter-of-factly while examining the garment she was holding.

[Huckleberry]

Rot

 

Consuelo looks askance at Winifred's lower arm spasms. "Like, are you gonna be okay? Your arm seems like it's kinda spazzing out there. . . " She sees the crunched shelf edge that the curious beautician had been gripping. "Maybe you could use some tai chi or some soothing herbs or something?"

 

A bit more on-alert now, the teen follows her hostess back towards the consultation room, and makes an attempt to answer her questions. "So, I'm not exactly a science type, but, like, Dr. Adamu told me that I 'subconsciously shunt tiny amounts of matter and energy simultaneously across to billions of alternate dimensions', or something like that." Consuelo's description has the sound of being an attempt at a direct quote, without really understanding much of the technical meaning. "It seems to affect everything, except me. Oh, yeah, and also my super suit. I've got a two-piece version of my super suit on under this outfit, if that helps." And she waves her hands vaguely at her tee-shirt and slacks.

 

"So uh, about that, you know, 'arm thing' you did back there - are you gonna like, hulk-out on me or something? Do you have a safety word, like 'tequila' or 'menagerie' or something?"

[Gizmo]

“In terms of auditory cues the snapping of bone and rending of flesh tends to be rather hard to miss but if you need a particular word as warning it’s usually something to the effect of ‘run’,” Winifred offered in a crisp deadpan which was neither especially reassuring nor invited further questions. She did spare Consuelo a softer expression as she held open the door to the back room. “Speaking to a young person with a currently uncontrolled and destructive ability my genuine advice would be to reconsider whether or not you are ‘a science type,’ Ms. Nunez. No one is going to be better motivated to find solutions and you are in a privileged position insofar as schooling is concerned. Take advantage.”

 

The consultation room looked more like a sitting room than a doctor’s examination room, with large armchairs and a wooden desk. An entire wall of small drawers was labeled in crisp handwriting, flanked by a wheeled chalkboard and an assortment of apothecary equipment. “That said,” the alchemist continued as she hung up the coat, “alternate dimensions are an absolute pain in the ass.” The last word a distinctly more local affectation to it. She rummaged about behind her desk for a moment before producing a roll of plastic sheeting almost as wide as she was tall. “One of my own classmates immigrated from a particularly ghoulish example.” She unrolled the sheet and draped it over one of the armchairs and across the unoccupied floor in front of the chalkboard. “He lives in Florida now, which is largely indistinguishable from an alternate dimension.”

[Huckleberry]

Rot

 

Well, considering that my spooky aura almost transformed her into a monster, this lady is actually keeping it together pretty dang well. Cold hostility isn't that bad. Am I crazy, or did she totally not understand what the phrase "safety word" means? I thought everyone knew that one. Except Owain, I guess. Huh. I wonder if she's one of those people displaced through time like Owain or Neko . . . or Ben? Maybe if I pretend to be interested in what she's talking about she'll stay cool. . . 

 

"Seems like you've got quite a scientific background. Where did you study?"

[Gizmo]

“When,” Winifred corrected while crouching to tuck the edges of the plastic sheet around the corners of the armchair, giving it some ablative protection from Consuelo’s effect. Standing back up she caught the teenager’s expression and paused. “Hm. Americans do struggle with a dry delivery.” She took a seat on the opposite chair and crossed her ankles. “I suppose you have reason to assume a certain intent, as well. Allow me to be clearer.”

 

Leaning forward in the armchair she took a deep breath. “Ms. Nunez. Consuelo. I was born in 1839 London to Chinese immigrants and as a girl studied amongst the finest - and worst - rogue scientists of that time and place. When I was about your age I made a series of poor choices resulting in my transformation into an incredibly destructive monstrosity, triggered by any heightened emotion. My attempt at… a resolution transmuted my body to inanimate jade. This effect was reversed six years ago whereupon the Alkahest very nearly murdered everyone unfortunate enough to be present including several young women I would later have the privilege to call my friends. Rather than being dropped in the darkest available abattoir I was remanded to the Academy.” She stopped to confirm that Consuelo was keeping up with the explanation before continuing.

[Huckleberry]

Rot

 

"Okay, I see." Said Consuelo, not wanting to interrupt Winifred's flow, despite her spotty understanding of the vocabulary her host was throwing at her. "Uh, what Academy?"

 

Putting together what the specialty make-up maker was intending with her plastic sheet, she hefted up her purse with some effort and struggled to take out a lumpy, drape-like object. "Oh hey, I brought this, so I wouldn't, like, mess up your chair. It's one of those lead aprons, like from the dentist or the x-ray clinic. Works pretty good for, you know, not disintegrating stuff." Whereupon her purse strap sighed its last and fell apart.

Edited December 11, 2023 by Huckleberry
typos

[Gizmo]

“Claremont Academy, dear. The school. I think we’d best avoid lead as a cosmetic component but noted.” Winifred watched the handbag clatter to the floor with pursed lips. “Hm. Inconvenient.”

Looking back to Consuelo she steepled her fingers. “I’m not telling you any of this because I particularly enjoy talking about myself or listing my personal failures and traumas. But to be explicit, despite my condition making even tepid romantic activity an impossibility for me without certain concessions I am fully familiar with the concept of a ‘safe word’. Gallows humour is simply one manner in which I maintain my composure. I admit, being in your immediate vicinity is unpleasant but I’ve carried on through far worse.”

 

Winifred allowed herself a small smirk and arched eyebrow. “If anything - and forgive my presumption - I feel a certain kinship given the manner in which your abilities seem to be wrecking absolute bloody havoc on your daily life. But who knows? With hard work, in a few years you too could be making uncomfortable clarifications about your sex life to a teenager, hm?”

[Huckleberry]

Rot

 

'Uh . . . yeah . . . um better just stick to the make-up, then. . . . Uh, not to be too critical or anything, but, uh, maybe it's like a British humor thing or something, but I'm having a little trouble telling when you're making fun of me an when you're not. So, uh, my bad if I read something wrong. But, well, I meant the lead apron, like for me to sit on in the chair, not for use in makeup . . . But no big either way. . . ." And she lays the apron down on the chair and takes a seat.

 

"So yeah, things haven't always been awesome. But it's, like, way better now that I'm in Claremont. I'm still, like, a total freak there, but at least the, uh, like, relative degree to which I'm a freak is a lot toned down, you know? And, seriously, I am totally pumped at the idea that you might be able to figure out some makeup I could actually use! Like, having the super suit has really helped out with my, you know, wardrobe malfunction problem. But like, I never dreamed I could wear makeup until I heard about your shop."

[Gizmo]

Winifred gave Consuelo a difficult to read look, silently narrowing her eyes while she considered and discarded several responses as too glib or caustic to be wholly appropriate. "Rest assured, should I intend to 'make fun', there will be no room for uncertainty on your part," she settled on eventually, stifling a small sigh. Cathy would have had more luck communicating with the teenager but then she had always been the most well adjusted member of their circle at school.

 

"Allow me to attempt to speak perhaps not more explicitly but more clearly." The alchemist moved to the rows of little drawers and collected a metal dish that looked something like a painter's palette, with little indentations creating bowls in its surface. "If the lead in the apron maintains its integrity against your effect longer than in other materials that may be a useful starting point. Lead was in fact a rather popular component of cosmetics in the time of my youth but my assumption is that you still metabolize some amount of the substances with which you come into contact and poisoning you would be quite counterproductive." She moved from drawer to drawer, scooping spoonfuls of different powders onto the dish before setting it down next to a mortar and pestle and turning around to her guest. "On that note, are you able to eat? Does food and drink...?" She waved her fingers in the air to indicate dust blowing away in the wind. "Does your entropic field extend to your innards? Things you've swallowed, inhaled?"

[Huckleberry]

Rot

 

"Uh, I really have no idea if, like, my powers affect what I breath or swallow, you know?" Consuelo scratches her head. "How would we even figure that out? And she grimaces in confusion.

 

"Yeah the lead apron helps for protecting chairs and stuff. But maybe because it's just, like, really heavy? I get, like, big flat metal pans to sleep on, so I don't, like, destroy the bed. But pretty much everything seems to wear away eventually." She looks a little glum.

 

"Except me. My disintegration never affects me. Like even not my hair or fingernails.". And she holds up her hands to display her completely unaffected fingernails.

 

"Oh, and my supersuit. That too."

[Gizmo]

"We'll need to work on your scientific curiosity," Winifred noted, scraping a bit of two different powders from her palate into the mortar. "Consider: if you get hungry or thirsty we can reasonably assume your physiology requires sustenance in the traditional sense. Further, you haven't perished from dehydration or starvation which tells us that nutrients are remaining intact to be absorbed by your bodily systems, yes?" The alchemist paused for a moment and tapped the handle of the pestle against her chin thoughtfully. "Although we shouldn't rule out a psychosomatic effect wherein you only feel hungry because you believe you should and your biology has some other mechanism for sustaining itself. Honestly, I'm surprised you haven't questioned these topics in greater depth already."

 

She turned the pestle about about began grinding the contents of the mortar into a finer dust, stopping occasionally to add a drop of liquid until she had created a paste. "Ah! Now, hair and fingernails, that's excellent information. We can look at using your own keratin as a base. I'd suggest starting a collection of clipping and cutting, if you aren't already." Her tone suggested she considered a jar of ones own fingernails a perfectly reasonable ingredient.

[Huckleberry]

Rot

 

OMG, Consuelo thought. Could this lady's lectures be any more condescending? Well, it's not as bad as Mrs. Priestley's Health class, actually. But how does she, like, get repeat customers? Well . . . if she can really figure out makeup that actually works for me, I guess I'd come back. So, yeah.

 

But of course she didn't say any of these things out loud. Instead, she just said: "Uh, yeah, I've kinda been growing my nails out, actually. We could totally clip them now, if that would, like, help you get started. I don't know about my hair though . . . " and she adopted a skeptical look. "I'm kinda attached to it."

 

"Hey, uh, what are you mixing up, there?"

[Gizmo]

"Hm. I cannot say I have any clipping implements here I'm keen to sacrifice to your entropic effect so we can leave that for a later date," Winifred hummed idly while focusing on the task in front of her. Turning back to Consuelo she displayed the palette with a half-dozen swirls of mixed pastes, the leftmost being a close match for the teen's own complexion them moving to bolder colours, with the last two being a satiny black and a vibrant green that matched her hair. "Our immediate step is to narrow down our experimentation by elimination. No sense in wasting time on pigments you don't like and won't wear, after all. These in particular will also double as an allergen test." The alchemist set down the palette next to Consuelo's chair and returned to her shelves to retrieve a sealed package of small, triangular sponges. "If most substances cease-to-be on contact it stands to reason you'd have been spared from general irritants; not so if we succeed in creating a longer lasting product for you. I'm not about to start swabbing random bits and bobs on your face. Do you favour your right hand or your left?"

[Huckleberry]

Consuelo offers out both hands. "Either wood be fine. Oh yeah!" Consuelo gives voice to her appreciation for Winnie's color choices. "Like sometimes, not all the time, but like, sometimes, bringing in the colors of my hair and costume would be awesome. But, like, more toned-down options would be killer too!" She seems really excited.

 

"I am so pumped! If this works, I will spend, like, my whole whole allowance on this. Just you watch!" She bobs her head around and hums a tune to herself as she watches the alchemist work.

 

"This is, like, a good idea to have a makeup clinic for super-powered people. Hmm. I wonder if I could like, figure out how to do like micro-disintegration skin treatments or something. You're opening my eyes here, Winifred."

[Gizmo]

Winifred stopped abruptly and gave Consuelo an uncomfortably intense look, locking eyes with the teenager. "That... is an excellent idea, Ms. Nunez." The alchemist left the palette and sponges within arm's reach of the girl and hurried over to a shelf to pull down one of dozens of identical journals and a pen. "I have a client with effective invulnerability, snaps any razor I've been able to procure in two and her increasing dysphoria has been absolutely unacceptable. I called in a favour to get her a pair of daka crystal tweezers but frankly no one has time for that rubbish. And do you know how many wire brushes one goes through polishing abrasions from the scales of a heraldic dragon?!" The writing implement in her hand snapped into a rain of plastic shards as she gestured emphatically. Unbothered, Winifred tossed the remains into a nearby waste bin and opened a drawer to reveal rows and rows of disposal pens.

[Huckleberry]

"Yeah, I mean, like the clientele would be there, like, especially in FC. But really who am I kidding? There's no way a freak like me with my revulsion aura could have a business like that. I mean, you almost monstered-out when I first came in here, you know? What do you think would happen the first time I accidentally yank a dragon's whiskers? Just, like, imagine the insurance I would have to carry . . . . It's nice to dream, though."

 

Consuelo looks around the room as Winifred works on the colors, then regains focus and inspects what has been applied. "Ooh, yeah, that looks badass! Hey, uh . . . ," and she suddenly becomes bashful, "Uh, if it would help you get started, I could tear off my nails with, you know, my teeth. I know it's kind gross, but . . . "

[Gizmo]

Winifred paused in her writing and gave Consuelo a serious look. "The popularity of conventional hair removal processes owe very little to their pleasant nature. More to the point, Ms. Nunez, have I given you any reason to believe that I have repeat clientele because of my easygoing and immediately ingratiating disposition?" She raised an ached eyebrow to emphasize the rhetorical question. "Even the most personable will inevitably encounter those who find them off-putting 'just cause'." The alchemist affected a reasonable imitation of the local New Jersey accent along with finger quotes. "You at least have a tangible excuse which you can take steps to mitigate. Giving up is not a luxury those with conditions like ours can exercise."

 

Setting aside the notebook for the moment she returned to the palette of pigmented powders. "Now. Don't bite your nails, dear, you're very nearly a grown woman. Wrist." She waited until Consuelo extended one of her hand again before brushing a small amount of the colour closest to the teenager's natural complexion on the exposed skin. "We can start with a heavy metal based foundation to see if that can act as an ablative layer for other cosmetics. Normally I would have long term health concerns but your aura should reduce the bioavailability faster than your body can absorb anything detrimental. How does that feel? Any immediate irritation?"

[Huckleberry]

Rot

 

Consuelo had met plenty of people like Winifred before. Yeah, of course she thinks it's my "bad attitude" that's creating the problem, not a genetic condition. Blame the victim. Because she has a business, she thinks she knows everything about life.

 

She looks at Winifred's wrist as she applies the makeup to hers. It would be so easy to just brush her wrist and let go of my revulsion field - show her just how wrong she is. But . . . then she'd probably turn into a monster, and then I could forget about ever getting makeup. . . . On the other hand, she's so condescending . . . Monster version definitely sounds less annoying . . . 

 

Consuelo stifles a laugh when Winifred asks her if there is any "immediate irritation".

 

"No, feels fine. Uh, yeah, there's, like, probably no good reason to go poisoning me, right? Lipstick's probably, like the worst, huh? Cause you're like, always swallowing a little bit of it."