TRIANGLE
small one-time physical effects, conjure temporary mundane objects; pain on the order of a light slap

SQUARE
conjure permanent mundane objects, bestow temporary mundane skills, conjure temporary magic objects; pain on the order of a hard punch

PENTAGON
bestow permanent mundane skills, conjure permanent magical objects, bestow temporary magical abilities; pain on the order of a broken limb

HEXAGON
bestow permanent magical abilities, conjure larger permanent magical objects, bestow permanently the ability to create new coins whenever you feel pain; pain on the order of a pulped extremity

SEVEN-POINTED STAR
catch me if you can ♡

Uh.

She wishes on the triangle that - that this post-it note had a robin's-egg-blue heart on it.

The triangle vanishes; the heart appears.

She wishes on the hexagon for the ability to make new - pain-coins - and drives her thumbnail into her palm.

There is a new primitive mental action available to her wrt/ the pain she is feeling.  If and when she takes it it causes a triangle to appear in her hand.

It's not glossy black like the other ones, but the gleaming sort-of-fuzzy color of a blue morpho butterfly, complete with butterfly-wing vein patterns.  The edges, where the coin is thicker, are the black of a butterfly wing's edge.

She tests it by drawing a five-pointed star on the same post-it; it works again.

Yeah she doesn't want to keep messing around with these things without backup.

Leo's there in fifteen minutes.

"You all right, you sounded freaked."

In fifteen minutes she's made another triangle, drawn a little horseshoe on the same post-it with it, and then driven a sharp pencil harder and harder into her palm until she could make a square with it.  She holds up the square.

"Sanity check," she says, and holds up the square.  "Can you see this object?"

He takes it from her.  "Little shiny blue square," he says.

"And this one - " she hands him the box - "and the marks on this post-it - "

"Black box, more little shapes," he says.  "Star heart horseshoe."

"Okay."

She takes a deep, slightly shaky breath.

She hands him the pamphlet.

He murmurs under his breath as he reads.

"Catch me if you can," he finishes, slowly.  "...is there a difference between the colors?"

"I made the blue one."

"So you used the hexagon on yourself.  I would've volunteered," he says.

"I - wasn't going to ask - "

"No, trust me, better me than you."

He looks at the box, the pentagon and the star still there.  "Can you use one level of thing to do the job of a lower level?  Because you've still got the star."

She shifts uncomfortably.  "I haven't - tested much."

"Got plans for this?"  He holds up her square.

She shakes her head.

It disappears, and on the post-it, in the same blue color, there appears a little cartoon skull.

"So you can use a square to do the job of a triangle, at least," he says.

He looks at the pamphlet again.

"So the obvious thought is that whoever's making the coins should give themself a magical healing ability first thing.  ...Assuming we wanna make a bunch of them."

"...Yeah.  Yeah.  I don't want to - pass this up, there's so much we could do - "

"Yeah."  Grin.

...little grin.

"And of the two of us I think I have the higher tolerance for creative self-mutilation. I'd like to use that star to make some more of these."