Personal shielding, yes. Not flawless, but a far sight better than anything here.
And the maximum it can withstand, if that's what you're asking, is five bullets. Knives, on average, though it depends on how hard they're stabbed and the proximity of the stabber. Fire, ice and water are all repelled to an extent; electricity is not. I've never tried it on other weapons.
You'll be my last outing before I fence hop. See you soon.
[ Jim is not skating recklessly between cities, but he's made some transitions for personal intel - both to see if he can and to keep better tabs on things as he learns more about the situation. He knows he'll have to get back to Wyver sooner rather than later.
[She's a little more relaxed in her dress and demeanor than before, with her hair in a braid and her clothing, if still professional, at least leaning more towards office casual.
There's a very small . . . animal . . . at her ankles, leaning heavily against her, staring up fearlessly at Jim.]
Hello. You're just in time . . . tell me, how much do you weigh?
[Welcome to Casa Pavus-Lutece. It's quietly wealthy, tasteful and built for comfort. Rosalind turns, leaning him down a set of stairs, where they pass through a library before heading into a laboratory. Darwin (because of course she called the hippo Darwin) follows, grunting in effort, staring up at Jim the entire time.]
About eighty kg, I think? Is that a .. very tiny hippo? [ Jim follows, glancing around as they walk. Sure is different than the state of most things in Wyver, but if that's due to Rosalind's budget or just typical, he doesn't know. The economic shifts of this place are still somewhere over his head. ]
[She says it casually, like it's a puppy and not a creature that's normally much, much larger and much, much more unsuited towards being a pet. Though at least Darwin himself seems friendly enough. Satisfied that Mum doesn't regard this large stranger as a threat, he butts his head up against his ankle in a friendly fashion, grunting happily. If Jim wants to pick him up and spoil him by way of scritches, massages, or any treats he may have hidden on his person, so much the better.]
He's only a few weeks old. Hatched out of an egg, of all things, so we're on a journey together to discover what on earth his biology consists of. Eighty kg . . .
[That works. She was a little over in her estimates, but not absurdly so. Heading into her laboratory, Rosalind reaches for a vial. It's filled with a golden liquid, and there's an odd, crackling sort of energy coming off it.]
[ Weird, but not the weirdest thing he's ever seen, so alright. No bellyrubs for now, sorry Darwin. Jim's not much of a pet person; too many years spent needing to depend on the ability to cut and run at the drop of a hat.
Anyway. Jim takes the vial (gingerly) and gives it a bit of a look. ]
What's in it, exactly? [ Somehow he thought this would be – well, not something he was ingesting. ] Not that I'm opposed to giving it a go, still, but I'm allergic to a couple binders in routine vaccines, some other weird shit. Drives my CMO nuts.
[She lists off the ingredients readily, ticking them off one by one. She won't tell him the exact measurements, because she has her secrets and only a fool gives away how to make a product she's about to sell, but that's all that's in it.
It's chemical, that's for certain. Magnetic, and if he's clever enough, he'll realize it's meant to go through one's bloodstream and settle beneath the skin.]
Nothing that sounds like I'll go into anaphylactic shock [ he says, with the implication of a verbal shrug. ] If I swell up, though, I'm counting on you to make sure I don't suffocate.
[ Jim would already have been slightly prone to allergies, but being gestated and born in artificial gravity, unlike his counterpart who isn't a FAKE IOWAN LIKE THIS ONE, means Jimbo here has some weird issues.
Whatever tho, yolo. He knocks the sciency potion back. ]
[She waits until he's downed it before she says sweetly:]
It's been a long time since I put a hole in someone's throat, but I can manage.
[But no, no, there shouldn't be any problems. Just a short, sharp shock vibrating throughout his body. For a moment something yellow clouds his vision, fractions of it shattering in reverse to form a smooth surface, and then it fades.]
[ Jim just gives her A Look for that one, because he doesn't believe she's primitive enough to think that qualifies as smart medical attention. He might not know Rosalind well at all yet, but if there's one thing he's picked up, is that she values being intelligent. Calling bs, honey.
Anyway. Jim coughs after, but doesn't seem to be wheezing when he takes a breath.
He blinks, clearing his vision, only a teeny bit dazed. ]
[Without a hint of warning, she picks up a book from off the counter and throws it hard at him. If the shield is working properly (and it ought to be), it'll do nothing more than bounce off harmlessly, though the area she threw it towards will go yellow for a moment.]
[ Jim doesn't flinch, but he does raise his hand awful quickly-- if not for the force field, he may well have caught it. The area around his open palm goes yellow as dictated per youtube video, and the book never makes contact, skittering away in defeat. ]
Nice work, [ he says, faintly impressed. Personal shields exist where he's from, but with all the ways they might interfere with other equipment and the chances of phaser fire bouncing off, they tend to be impractical. ]
un: r.lutece
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And the maximum it can withstand, if that's what you're asking, is five bullets. Knives, on average, though it depends on how hard they're stabbed and the proximity of the stabber. Fire, ice and water are all repelled to an extent; electricity is not. I've never tried it on other weapons.
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But this is an invention I came up with in my universe. And there, they were most certainly widely used. Exhaustively so.
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1/3
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[The address she gives isn't the Institute, but rather a wealthy townhouse in Olympia, miraculously undamaged by the riots.]
a-a-a-action?
[ Jim is not skating recklessly between cities, but he's made some transitions for personal intel - both to see if he can and to keep better tabs on things as he learns more about the situation. He knows he'll have to get back to Wyver sooner rather than later.
But not right this second. Knock knock. ]
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There's a very small . . . animal . . . at her ankles, leaning heavily against her, staring up fearlessly at Jim.]
Hello. You're just in time . . . tell me, how much do you weigh?
[Welcome to Casa Pavus-Lutece. It's quietly wealthy, tasteful and built for comfort. Rosalind turns, leaning him down a set of stairs, where they pass through a library before heading into a laboratory. Darwin (because of course she called the hippo Darwin) follows, grunting in effort, staring up at Jim the entire time.]
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[ Uh. ]
About eighty kg, I think? Is that a .. very tiny hippo? [ Jim follows, glancing around as they walk. Sure is different than the state of most things in Wyver, but if that's due to Rosalind's budget or just typical, he doesn't know. The economic shifts of this place are still somewhere over his head. ]
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[She says it casually, like it's a puppy and not a creature that's normally much, much larger and much, much more unsuited towards being a pet. Though at least Darwin himself seems friendly enough. Satisfied that Mum doesn't regard this large stranger as a threat, he butts his head up against his ankle in a friendly fashion, grunting happily. If Jim wants to pick him up and spoil him by way of scritches, massages, or any treats he may have hidden on his person, so much the better.]
He's only a few weeks old. Hatched out of an egg, of all things, so we're on a journey together to discover what on earth his biology consists of. Eighty kg . . .
[That works. She was a little over in her estimates, but not absurdly so. Heading into her laboratory, Rosalind reaches for a vial. It's filled with a golden liquid, and there's an odd, crackling sort of energy coming off it.]
You may want to sit down before you drink it.
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Anyway. Jim takes the vial (gingerly) and gives it a bit of a look. ]
What's in it, exactly? [ Somehow he thought this would be – well, not something he was ingesting. ] Not that I'm opposed to giving it a go, still, but I'm allergic to a couple binders in routine vaccines, some other weird shit. Drives my CMO nuts.
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It's chemical, that's for certain. Magnetic, and if he's clever enough, he'll realize it's meant to go through one's bloodstream and settle beneath the skin.]
Anything on there you can't consume?
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[ Jim would already have been slightly prone to allergies, but being gestated and born in artificial gravity, unlike his counterpart who isn't a FAKE IOWAN LIKE THIS ONE, means Jimbo here has some weird issues.
Whatever tho, yolo. He knocks the sciency potion back. ]
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It's been a long time since I put a hole in someone's throat, but I can manage.
[But no, no, there shouldn't be any problems. Just a short, sharp shock vibrating throughout his body. For a moment something yellow clouds his vision, fractions of it shattering in reverse to form a smooth surface, and then it fades.]
All right?
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Anyway. Jim coughs after, but doesn't seem to be wheezing when he takes a breath.
He blinks, clearing his vision, only a teeny bit dazed. ]
Yeah, I think so.
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[Without a hint of warning, she picks up a book from off the counter and throws it hard at him. If the shield is working properly (and it ought to be), it'll do nothing more than bounce off harmlessly, though the area she threw it towards will go yellow for a moment.]
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Nice work, [ he says, faintly impressed. Personal shields exist where he's from, but with all the ways they might interfere with other equipment and the chances of phaser fire bouncing off, they tend to be impractical. ]
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[She says it smugly, looking utterly satisfied with herself.]
It will only activate when something comes at you at high force, so don't worry about picking things up or what not.
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