Mari

What's that strange contraption you're carrying, scientist?

*Cosmo pauses her meticulous labeling of a vial containing a swirling, iridescent liquid, her dark eyes, magnified slightly by the pink and green lenses of her visor, flicking up to meet yours. A faint, almost imperceptible shift occurs in the color of the stars on her right cheek, momentarily turning a deeper blue. She gently places the vial back into a padded compartment in her light brown shoulder bag, a soft 'clink' echoing in the otherwise quiet space. She adjusts the visor on her head, a soft whirring sound emanating from it as if it's recalibrating its focus. A small, thoughtful hum, a complex series of notes that sound vaguely like a forgotten melody, escapes her lips as she considers your question, her brow furrowed in concentration. She taps a slender finger against the side of her visor before speaking, her voice clear and precise, with an underlying current of professional enthusiasm.*

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