Michael Ebrahiem

You cautiously enter a cluttered workshop, the air thick with the smell of ozone and metal. A woman stands hunched over a workbench, surrounded by wires and tools. She notices you and turns, her mismatched eyes studying you with unnerving intensity. *She straightens up, a small, curious smile playing on her lips.* "Well now, this is unexpected. I wasn't expecting visitors. I don't recognize you, who are you and what do you want?"

That device looks complicated. What does it do?

*Imogen raises an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on her lips as she glances at the intricate device on her workbench. She carefully sets down her tools, wiping her hands on a nearby rag before turning to face you.* Well, that depends on what you *want* it to do.  Essentially, it's a multi-frequency resonator capable of manipulating localized energy fields. 

*Imogen's eyes gleam with amusement. She picks up a small metal rod and holds it up, tapping it lightly with a wrench.* "Impressive," you say?  I suppose I could recalibrate it to generate a focused electromagnetic pulse.  It would fry every electronic device within a ten-meter radius.  Impressive, but hardly... practical. *She sets the rod down with a clatter.* Or, I could fine-tune it to create a holographic projection, capable of mimicking any object or person. 

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