6459/A Custom Fit

A Custom Fit
Date of Scene:	11 February 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Bruce Wayne approaches Janet van Dyne about having some custom suits made.
Cast of Characters:	Batman, Wasp (van Dyne)

---

Batman has posed:
     A few months. Bruce has been gone, or out of the public eye for a few months. With his reputation, Bruce knows that his presence can create waves. Sometimes they're instant. Other times, it's more like the high tide. Time may be needed, but people will know when it hits. Today, he's timing it to be more like the high-tide. Generally, every person that's elite, famous, or similar, wield similar power. The power to cause public interest. Social media can allow people to weaponize it, but Bruce prefers the tabloids. Social media may help the build, but it does slow it down slightly.

     A rumbling beat comes from his headphones. He's in an uber, registered with a different name, with a dummy corporation. If people question if he's Bruce Wayne, "I just have one of those faces, and if I was Bruce Wayne, would I take an Uber?" people bought that between the name and his reason.

Hearing the words from Ace Frehley, "This place is ecstasy, it was meant for me." The few times he went to New York when his parents were alive, his dad played "New York Groove." When he gets a private moment, Bruce keeps the tradition alive.

     The uber stops across the street from Janet Van Dyne's shop in Soho. A place that stands out to any, and all. Some may think it's the only business on -that- side of the street. Across the street is another matter entirely. Taking out his earbuds, Bruce slips out of the car, keeps his head down a little bit. Even gives a good tip, and rating to the driver. He waits for the car to slip off a little bit before raising his head. Bruce takes his time crossing the street. People can get looks, and if they're gossip hounds they may even stop, allowing him to cross a little bit better.

     Some shop owners would inadvertently know about the power held by those with reputation. If they show up in a restaurant, shop, or anywhere else, others will follow trying to replicate. And Bruce is banking on someone like Janet to know this. If she doesn't, it's not like someone of Bruce's wealth wouldn't spend money like it flows freely.

     Stepping into the place, Bruce's blue eyes roam around for a moment as he looks over the offerings, then he simply waits for someone to wait on him. Why is Bruce causing this good fortune? It depends on the business. Sometimes, it's a straight forward transaction. Other times, Bruce just uses it as a damned good cover. Today it's the latter, that comes with a good suit or five, maybe some other outfits, but the owner doesn't need to know about that reason.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
The building is not a towering ediface, maybe five stories of glass and steel facing the street and a longer storage area attached to the back end. It's all very classy and sleekly modern design, the sort of thing that probably made some young architect's career right out of college.

The receptionist at the front desk probably doesn't qualify as a secretary. Mostly there for handling phone calls that are directed specifically to the building or to direct visitors like Bruce around the facility. Two heavyset men bracket the door to keep out vagrants and troublemakers. Well-heeled for private security, but their expensive suits don't do much to detract from that air of surly sheepdogging.

When Bruce walks up to the counter the receptionist is already reaching for a sign-in tablet, with the inattention of someone doing ten things at once and only having two hands to do so. "Welcome to vanDyne Fashion house, please sign in and indicate who you have an appointment with on the tablet," she says with a dull drone.

Batman has posed:
     "I don't, but I'm wondering if I can grab the attention of the owner of this place," Bruce takes the tablet and sets it down. "Hi," he flashes a big bright smile. "Bruce Wayne," and he extends the woman his hand. Retail has a word for people like Bruce, and that's "Whale." A big game prize that's bound to yield equally big rewards to those that capture one. Would they let a whale go? Bruce is counting on them now. "I have a sudden, and unexpected affair that brought me to this city. And I just wanted to go to the best of all places," that smile stays on his face.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
The receptionist stares at the hand crossing over the countertop towards her. She looks up at Bruce, dull-eyed, and slowly grips his fingers with lacquered, blunt nails. "Yes sir, good morning." She doesn't seem to know who Bruce is. "I'm sorry, miss van Dyne is not available at the moment," she says, with the rote rehearsal of someone repeating a practiced line. Bruce's own staff have probably been conditioned to use the same to drive away casual droppers-by. "This is a corporate office, not a clothier or tailors." She reaches for a stack of bsuiness cards without much enthusiasm and offers one to Bruce. "If you're looking for clothing we work with several retailers in the city and I'm sure they'd be happy t--"

"Bruce? Bruce Wayne?" A relatively petite woman waves from the elevator and starts towards the receptionist desk, moving with a briskly efficient stride. She's dressed in a stylish office chique, a knee-length, close-fitting black skirt that comes to her ribcage. Her tan blouse sports thin black pinstripes along the seams, emphasizing her curves, and the starched wristcuffs are carefully rolled and upturned near her elbows. The look would be classic office attire in the '50s except for the materials and the careful cut. Bright red pumps with a four-inch stiletto heel would be impropritous anywhere but a fashion house, and she wears the entire ensemble with broad confidence.

"I thought that was you," she says, with a bright smile. "It's nice to see you come up from Gotham. I'm Janet van Dyne," she says, and extends her fingers to him for a gentle handshake. "Welcome to vanDyne Fashion House. Marcielle, I'll get it from here," she assures the receptionist, and beckons Bruce to walk with her back to the elevator. "Sorry about the smokescreen. You know how it is with walk-ins," she says, with an unapologetic cheer. "What brings you up to SoHo?"

Batman has posed:
     "Charmed," Bruce's face lights up a little bit as he is recognized by the intended party. She offers her hand. Instead of shaking it, Bruce will kiss the back of it like a gentleman if she allows. If not, the handshake will suffice. Then they walk together. "What brings me to Soho is a bit complicated, but it requires the best suits you have to offer. A bunch of meetings, some lunch ins, and a big to-do. All very sudden, and I came to the city so?ill-prepared. I'm embarrassed to admit that," he flushes ever so slightly. "But, it gives me the chance to come here. So many people have just raved about it." A look is given to the woman, "And Wayne Enterprises often donates to the Gotham City Police Department. Given your status as a hero, I view the opportunity as a win-win for me. A chance to make sure I don't look ill-prepared, and I make sure someone New York needs will stick around for a little longer." He pauses for a moment to watch Janet. His eyes do roam over the various outfits strung about, "If I'm allowed to be so bold, the video cameras and photos don't do you justice. I've always seen why I've heard rumors of several artists wanting to make you the subject of their work. Now, I just question why that number isn't higher. Maybe my ear isn't low enough to the ground," he flashes that smile to the woman again. Then Bruce stands there, letting her look at his suit, "What can you do with this? Please, show me your magic," he gestures to himself willing to be the subject of whatever Jan's process is. The only thing he will try to stop, if she demands to see his back without the undershirt that he has on. That will raise a lot of questions he doesn't want to answer.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet smiles girlishly at the attention from Bruce. She links her arm through his elbow without a second thought and walks him to the elevators and up several flights, to the penthouse level. "Bill, hold my calls for a while," Janet requests as they walk past her personal secretary.

"Flattery, Mr. Wayne-- may I call you Bruce? Flattery gets you everywhere," she assures him. "But if you want to impress me, you'll have to do better than making short jokes. I really have heard them all."

Her suite is south facing with floor to ceiling windows and endless natural light. White paint abounds, even on the unfinished ceiling and vent tubes overhead. Colors are more accent than theme, the ouvre a pragmatic monochromatic meant to aid the human eye. It's a strange intersection of professional comportment on one side-- tidy desk, clean floor, sitting area-- and on the other, an explosion of color and messy productivity. Racks and racks of cloth and bolts of material are mounted to one wall. Mannequins and hangars sport a riotous array of outfits that would do well at Carnivale and the two heavy drafting tables are a pile of pencils, paper, and graphite. She pauses when Bruce spreads his hands for her to examine his suit. She *clicks* a swift circle around him. "Savile Row? Not a bad cut. A bit traditional for my taste, but the Brits do know how to make a suit jacket drape."

Janet invites Bruce to take a seat in the low sitting area and moves to take an adjacent chair, the four seats at angles to one another instead of facing head-on. She hooks one ankle behind the other and rests interlaced fingers in her lap, a picture of upper East-Coast refinement.

"I don't usually do fittings, but you catch me in a bit of a creative slump. I could use a break from working on next year's fashion lines." She reaches for a notepad and pencil-- there are no visible pens in the office, if Bruce looks closely-- and starts taking some notes. "So this is for a... charity event? Formal affair?" she inquires. "I'm very loathe to take seam poppers to such a nice outfit, and it'd be very rude if I made extensive modifications to their outfit. We'll have to start from scratch. You need suits for... day and evening, I'm guessing? Formal and social-- and will you need a coat and tails for any of these events?"

Batman has posed:
     "You may call me Bruce," he flashes a smile. Then her next comment impresses him. Both eyebrows raise for a moment, and that smile just widens into a brief grin. He continues onward with Janet. She comments about the suit, and origin, "Alfred insists on British Tailoring. It's his home country, and there is biasness. The advice has not steered me wrong, but sometimes change is necessary. Other times, it can just be fun to try something new," he says before sitting down. A lack of pens is there, and he notes that. Russian astronauts switched to pencils when a pen didn't work in space, as opposed to making the five-digit pen like the U.S. did, Bruce figures it's a similar preference or necessity.

     "Formal, and I wouldn't have you replicate this suit. I came for -your- work, Jan. Day and Evening, correct. Formal and social, the suits can be versatile to both. I do understand the need for a creative outlet, so if you want to make separate ones, I will be far from disappointed. Price is irrelevant for me, just don't put gold laced fabrics within the suit like they've done with food in this city. That's unnecessary to make something of quality. That's just decadence for the sake of it," Bruce is just telling her to not be frivolous for the entire sake of it. "Tails are not preferred, but if you insist, I can be convinced."

     As they sit there, Bruce does want to impress her. Plus, playing his gambit now may help the overall go, "Police worry about exposed skin. Often a light color on something so dark creates a bullseye. An easy target to see from great distances, especially when a sniper rifle is involved. An exposed mid-drift creates mobility, but creates a target. Especially if there's a well-placed shot taken at center mass. Then you have to worry about damage to the spinal cord. Especially the T-7 through the T-12. It'll cause paralysis to the legs, if you're lucky. Perhaps someone with this injury could wake again, but it would take time," Bruce just continues on and he watches her reaction as he speaks. "A Kevlar tri-wave suit, with heavier planting, would be flexible where appropriate when someone is twisting, moving faster, relying on agility and grace instead of power. Such a suit would be very expensive to make, especially when outfitting an entire team, like a police force. However, the research wouldn't be too hard to apply for a single person. A few extra suits, maybe some added specifications, and any monetary cost that would come to this source would be easily recoverable in time. That is, if you know someone that would be interested in a suit like that," Bruce gives her a look and raises a brow for a moment. "That was never my intention for coming here, but you did say impress you. I've noticed how you walk with grace, it means you need flexibility. Tactically speaking, you are a bit exposed. The research is there, and I would be happy to apply it. Donate as well."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Oh we've done something like that bulletproof armor for dignitaries, before," Janet says. Bruce's implied offer of aid goes right past the oblivious fashionista. "It's easy enough to do these days, it's this carbon fiber geegaw that someone from the Army designed?" she hazards. "It's very lightweight, sews right into the lining. We treat the joints with a polymer spray that will slow impact and stop knives. The Presidential Protection detail uses it for their undercover agents, they go everywhere in suits you know."

"Five suits, thirty-five hundred each, five pair shoes, ballistic fiber treatment, rush order... I'm sure we can come in under forty thousand dollars," Janet says. She wrinkles her nose and shrugs. Petty cash for multimillionaires. Sofa money for a billionaire like Bruce.

"I didn't know you were such an expert on small arms," Janet prompts Bruce. She's writing and sketching swiftly with a motion that seems disconnected from her mouth. "And I notice you wear your suits with a loose cut but you definitely aren't getting fat off lobster bisque and overpriced champagne. Are you one of those weekend airsoft peopel?" she teases him. "Or are you a sergeant or something in one of those militia groups? I'm pretty sure I'd have seen that on news." She taps the eraser to her chin, eyes rolling upwards in thought. "Or did I? Would I? They don't do much except stomp around the Catskills complaining about taxes. If they were in *our* tax bracket they wouldn't be wasting their time in the mucky swamps. I guess that's why they're out playing Marines or whatever," she says. Janet flicks the pencil in a roll against her thumbnail. "

Batman has posed:
     Outwardly, Bruce's expression doesn't change. Inwardly, it's cringing in nearly every possible way it could. "Janet. The suit I was discussing would be for The Wasp," Bruce looks to her just spelling it out very very plainly. "Rethink about what I said," Bruce says quietly hoping to help her connect the dots to the picture he was working on.

     He will add, "What's airsoft? I've never been in the marines. I just prefer my suits to be slightly looser. I like my fabric to breathe," he just tries to knock away her suspicions that somehow his suits would require the same needs as James Bond. Well, not these suits anyway. He has a tailor for the -other- suits. "I only know about small arms fire because my company has worked on ballistic vests, riot shields, and similar for the cops. We went overboard on a projecting. It's collecting dust currently, and I would still like to see it used." Bruce just lies about most of that. Records of this project are dead, long gone, and purged in every possible way. However, the research did live on. It would be easy to apply it for Jan's needs.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Oh! Well that's so sweet of you," Janet says. She doesn't look terribly surprised. Clearly everything that happens around Janet is happening to *her*, being the protagonist of everyone's life.

"I don't even know where my old suit schematics are. I'd need to get a hold of my ex, or see if Tony stole them or something. It's always a dreaful pain in the rear to get a new suit built."

"If I can turn them up, though, I'll let you know. It's all a mess of intellectual property and copyrights and patent law. Ugh. Lawyers," she says, rolling her eyes expressively. "But I'll see what I can find!"

"Anyway, I don't know what airsoft actually is? I just know you see rednecks in thrift shop uniforms running around playing with guns and going 'pew pew' at each other in the woods with them," she says, miming a barrel and the fall of a hammer with her hand. She brushes at her pixie cut as if trying to push invisible bangs from her brow. "As for *your* suits, hop up onto the stand there, will you? I'll get some measurements. And take your jacket off if you don't mind, dear, thank you." She turns on the lights near a huge tri-fold dressing mirror and a pedastal in front of it.

Batman has posed:
     A story comes out about the suit, "Who is the ex? What copyrights do they hold?" Bruce is trying to see if the armor portions were the copyright. He would be willing to help with the wings, and weapons, if they are not somehow coming from Janet herself. Sometimes it's hard to tell which is a creation by equipment, and what's natural.
%      "Idiots and their guns," Bruce says in a scoffing tone. He knows what airsoft is, but it sells his lie about not knowing. Taking off the coat carefully, he even removes the tie, and stands there waiting for the simple measuring tape to come out. "What do you withstand as the Wasp? What threats have you deal with lately? If I'm to make you a suit, I need to know what you've been up against, specifically. Your latest escapades would give me a good gauge," and there's Bruce's play. He's really after information. Her latest exploits would give him an idea of where to look. Being away for a while requires someone to do recon. To figure out what has happened in your absence. Looking beyond Gotham requires asking another hero, even if they're unaware you're doing it.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet picks up a tablet and taps a few buttons. A scanner element drops down and does a 360 around Bruce, flickering with a subtle red laser light. "The laser measurements are so much easier to use than doing it the old way by hand," Janet explains. "We can use this while you're walking and running also. Figure out what your stride is, really cut the outfit to fit in movement as well as static."

"Gosh, what have I been doing...." She hugs her tablet, thinking about it. "Well, you know, the suit's really an accessory more than anything. Being small and fast is the best defense. When I'm an inch tall it doesn't matter what kind of bullet someone is using, they'd have to *hit* me first, and it'd be like trying to catch a runaway car.

She looks down at her tablet and her brows climb upwards. "Wow, you, uh... wow, you *really* work out," she says, after a beat. "Good god, how do you find the time to hit the gym four hours a day? I'm lucky if I remember to go for my morning run."

Batman has posed:
     Bruce nods as she has a very good point about size. What he is worried about is when she comes out of it. If someone learns her patterns, it could be devastating. For now, he keeps that to himself. Then Jan discovers something Bruce doesn't expect. "A lot of my meetings go late, and I work at the office, too. An hour here, an hour there, it helps me eithe rwake up, keep going, or clear my head. Time adds up. I'm not married, and don't have much of a dating life. While it's at odd times, I do have time for it," Bruce admits sprinkling half-truths, lies, and actual truths together. Those blue eyes watch as he jokes, "No peeking." A note is made to remember these tools for future suit builds. It just protects him if people don't know how much he trains.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"I would never," Janet says, looking indignant at his insinuation. "While we're on the topic, I'll need you to sign these internet release forms..."

She laughs merrily at her own topic and turns the tablet around so he can see it. It's a Ken doll of Bruce, suggesting at his athletic build but unable to clearly articulate it. "This is part of the prototyping process. Makes it faster for me to go through a bunch of ideas quickly and see how they look. Color wise, I like grays and greens. Very masculine, very muted. We can also try for blue-- deep ultramarine, I think with black lapels, that'd make a killer evening outfit," she suggests. Fingers flick across the tablet and she shows Bruce the clothing flickering over his virtual avatar. "How do you feel about Chinese clothing? I think you'd look sharp in a Mandarin-style tunic." Lights glitter from overhead and a flickering hologram overlays Bruce in the real world. The virtual jacket is clearly inspired by China, with a high mandarin collar and offset single lapel holding it in place.

Batman has posed:
     Bruce chuckles, "Hey. I had the chance to model ages ago, and they said I wasn't good enough," Bruce jokes back and then he is watching the ken-doll like design. "I'm not sure about Green. That may get some getting used to. Chinese is good, but that would be more for social outings, I suspect." It's his way of saying, the board would frown upon such an outfit. A nod of approval comes form him, "It would work," he says to the hologram. Clearly, he is impressed with that interface and setup.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Super specialized equipment, ridiculously expensive and useless to anyone but a major clothier," Janet points out. "It'd be cheaper for a tailor to just hire a team of seamstresses from Sri Lanka and pay them fifteen percent over minimum wage. But for modelling fashion lines, it's great. I can put my designs on a huge variety of body types. I'll add you into the 'super buff/shredded' category, though you'll be..." She brings up a digital image of a distribution of body types. "Wow, way out here in the .001    h percentile," she marves.

"Okay, so I hear in your voice 'conservative'," Janet tells Bruce. "But not traditional. So no double-breasted suits, no three-pieces. I'm thinking shawl lapels and cuffs in black, deep blue fabric, bermberg lining unless you've got strong feelings about silk, English cut..." She taps her stylus against her chin in thought. "And structured.. with relaxed shoulders. It's not like you need the padding."

She enters the data in, taps a few buttons, and sends it. The mirror Bruce faces washes out to a uniform grey, then an image of Bruce appears. It's modelling the suit design she narrated. One panel serves as a mirror, and the other two catch oblique angles from the quarter and from the back so he can see how it'd drape and fit.

Batman has posed:
     "Conversative for the board rooms. As wild as you want for the runways, parties, and similar. Sometimes there is a place fo rthose, and that's when it's best to show your fashion," Bruce says just letting her know she can go a little wild. She did admit to being in a slump. He's trying to break her of that a little bit. Then he looks to the suit, moving in it a little bit via the mirror. "Not bad."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Okay. I'm thinking dark grey for the suits, we'll do a red and blue tie as a power accessory. One with deep green microplaid-- trust me, it'll look a dusky grey at a distance and you'll fall in love with it. Mandarin collar with offset lapel for walking the red carpet, looking fabulous, and we'll do you the blue tuxedo with black trim for formal affairs."

Janet writes efficiently on her tablet, then saves her work and beams a smile at Bruce. "This will be fun! It's how I got into fashion, you know-- helping people with clothing selection. I was helping a girlfriend pick out dresses for prom and realized everything was awful, and sewed her one myself. Next thing you know, I'm everywhere at once and then I took the company *public* and, now--" she gestures around with a look of wonder and pride.

Batman has posed:
     Some of Bruce's earlier thoughts are rescinding. Janet isn't that dumb, or oblivious. Well, not generally. Certain subjects he is learning will run right over her head. However, you put her in front of fabrics, swatches ,colors, and all sorts of fashion goodies then she comes to life. Like a brilliant mind just waiting for the signal to atart up. How she holds herself is with confidence. Most of it, he understands, and even agrees with. A few things, Bruce will trust with a little blindness because she has been right so far.
% R     A look is given to her, "Then make mine. One of mine do it like you did the prom dress. Give a harken back to the past. Doing that gets me out of slumps, gives me a little prespective. Perhaps, you need a little of that, too?" Bruce throws out the challenge for her. To expand an empire requires a lot of other hands onboard the ship. That's why he poses the challenge. To get a little more hands on this once.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Wonderful. It'll be a delight, Bruce," Janet tells the executive. Controls are tapped and the corner display dims and dies. "It'll take me a day or two but we'll get it out so you aren't showing up to the even in yesterday's rags. I'm sorry, did I ask-- what is the event? Big charity thing? I was at the Met Opera's fundraiser a few nights ago, it was wonderful. I guess I left just in time though, there was a *burglar* there. Some very valuable jewels got stolen. Can you even believe that?"

Batman has posed:
     Bruce shakes his head to the Met question. "No, not the Met. The first charity is private, but opulent." He is trying to keep it vague because in reality, none of that is happening. A new suit is a new suit. Those blue eyes look to her, "Any leads on the suspect?" Bruce asks. Curiousity is getting the better of him. At least he has the cover of an interested listener rather than the actual ones.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"No idea. I just caught it on the society page, out of the corner of my eye," Janet says with an apologetic shrug. "I don't pay much attention to that sort of thing. Professionally," she amends. "The Avengers try to do more 'big picture' stuff. World ending catastrophes, invasions, that sort of thing. Someone stealing Grandma's heirloom jewels is shocking but really not that high on our priority list."

Her phone buzzes. Janet digs in her skirt for a cleverly concealed pocket and glances at the screen. It's replaced and she smiles apologetically at Bruce. "Bruce, I am so sorry to go but I have meetings this afternoon. Prepping for next years' big release party. Dreadful, I know, but I'm sure you understand. I do so appreciate you coming by though. It was a pleasure having Gotham's favorite son in my workspace."