1964-09-03 - A Costume for the Good Doctor
Summary: Doctor Stranges pops by to get a consultation for a costume for that awesome October season!
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
strange gidget 

The door to that private office was open slightly as it mostly was during office hours…but this was not their normal hours. Some of her mentor's clients had wanted Sunday appointments so here she was making sure that the receptionist didn't set the building on fire. Gidget honestly didn't mind as she was so dedicated to her work it was just another day for her but she was actually dressed down for once. That 5'10" tall drink of water was currenly sitting at her desking, sketching away at something on some draft paper…changing pencils to colore ones to start coloring in some detail. Soft music in French could be heard coming from inside from her record player, trying to relax as she sipped on a glass of scotch from the bar cart behind her. It was 5 O'clock somewhere, right?!

Running in the upper echelon's of medical society means, unfortunately, keeping up with the fashions of the time. It means tabs upon the rising stars of the clothier's realm and word of mouth has led the tall, silvered-templed gentleman to the office of Emilio Pucci.

A knock-knock on the door, firm and swift, and he steps into the room. A scarred hand disappears back into the pocket of his dress pants and he grants the woman at the desk a reserved smile.

"I'm looking to speak with someone about a costume…?" His baritone is smooth, vaguely amused — as if he can't believe he's here, and his steel-blue gaze is clear as it rests upon Gidget.

Gidget would blink as she heard the knock on her door and silently sighed to herself. I guess this was payback from her receptionist for disappearing for lunch….for four hours. Sitting that glass in her hand down and looking up, she'd smile softly. "Costume?" A tilt of her head as she looked at the sketching on her desk and frowned to herself. No…this can't be right….it's a girl. She'd gather up those drafts and stood up as she walked over to a filing cabinet, setting them on top of it before facing him. "Well then…." She was wearing a pair of green wide legged linen pants, a white ruffled collar blouse and some simple heels. Leaning on her desk she would glance past him to see her oh so helpful 'door guardian' grinning. Chuckling she'd motion for him to come in. "I don't do that like…..cheesy stuff just as a heads up. I mean I can but if it's gonna have my name on it….I'd rather not." It was strange to have a semi-normal request as of late….normal compared to what she's been working. "And you are…..? So I know who I'm talking to…." Walking over to cross the room, she'd reach her hand out. "Gidget Boileau…."

"Doctor Strange," replies the man, returning her handshake with a firm grip that subjected her to no more pressure than was polite. Confident and yet aware of his own strength. Old scarring, red against his skin, laces his hands and might impart a subtle texturing. Calluses speak to handiwork beyond that of wielding a scalpel. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Boileau."

"I wouldn't be putting down any form of payment for 'cheesy' work, I assure you," he continues, folding his arms lightly. The dress shirt, a silk weave in a deep green with hints of azure and violet in the right light, stretches in resistance to his wide shoulders. "I'm searching for someone with an imagination. I suspect that I'll be attending an…international conference come late October once again and am expected to make a statement there." The lines of his goatee break for the faint smile that continues to hover on his lips.

"Nice to meet you, doctor…" She'd look at his hands for only a second before letting go and turning around to head to her desk. "Have a seat!" Now she was excited as she pulled out a notebook from a drawer on her desk and motioned to the plush seats across from her desk. "Would you like something to drink?" A smirk tugged at her lips then as she winked. "I can have Gabriella bring you in some water if scotch is too much for you this early…." And people were starting to understand why Widow called her brassy and ballsy. Leaning over to that record player, she'd lower that French music down to barely audible as she waited for him to sit. Once he did, she'd sit down, leaning back as she crossed her legs and stared at him intently now. Looking him over, those brown eyes weren't shy as she seemed to be inspecting him then. "So is there a theme you know of? Is it a free for all and hope for the best?"

The good Doctor settles himself in the offered chair, professional and dignified as always, and seems at ease as he looks across the desk at Gidget.

"Tea, please, if you have any. I prefer to keep my system clear of any unnecessary influences unless given good reason." A shift of weight places an ankle upon one knee and he sighs, glancing about the room in mild curiosity. "No theme that I'm aware of currently. They tend to announce it about a week before the conference itself and that timeline is rushed for the designers I tend to call upon. Free-for-all is the best way to describe it, I suppose." Those light eyes flick back to her. "If you appreciate a challenge, I will make it worth your time."

She'd keep staring at him intently….perhaps unnerving to most as she sizing him up….literally. "Alright…." Her voice was soft as she finally stopped staring and looked him in the eyes now. "Well at least I have a heads up." Laughiing, she'd stand and walk to her door to head out and go to that desk. She was speaking to the receptionist softly in French before playfully swatting her as she retrieved some water from a pitcher on her desk. Once she was back in her office and the door shut, she would set the water down on the desk in front of him before returning to her seat with an unceremonious flop. "A week? I've done worse….." And she's doing worse. "Trust me….I'm always up for a challenge outside of my mentor's work. He likes to let me go and do projects outside of his work so I can…..try to cool kid I guess." Smirking then she'd tap her chin as she then pointed to his face. "….going to keep the facial hair for the party?"

The good Doctor returns her stare with little reaction. When one is conduit to the gods, one stares down terrifying things regularly. It certainly isn't the first time he's been sized up this week — possibly even today.

He indulges in another passing glance about the room while she discusses and fetches water, categorizing and weighing what he can observe, and then gives her that faint smile once Gidget returns. His chuckle is low and yet friendly.

"Oh yes, the facial hair stays. I have a significant other at home who would complain bitterly if it went." There's a passing twinkle in Strange's eyes and then he's once more formal. "You'll have weeks to work on the costume if you need the hours. There's no rush unless October arrives and there has been no progress on the order." Strange lifts hands up and out above the arm rests of the chair. "Now — what do you need from me?"

That room looked like a personal sewing studio and from the looks of it, she spent a /lot/ of time here. There was a rack of what looked like a mix of couture but some normal clothing that was mixed in on the end. The bolts of fabric scattered around the perimeter ranging from cotton to silks in a myriad of colors though there were a few set on the cutting table, rolled out. Humming she'd stand and walk over her filing cabinet, opening it up as she spoke. "Noted. You're in luck….I have a lot of concept designs my mentor hated because they weren't…..'the latest trend' but I love doing the fun stuff hence why all the masquerade stuff got deferred to me." She'd pull out a file and then walked to his side of the desk before plopping it in his lap and smirked. "Now see if there's something in there you like….as these are all original by me and never made. It'll make it faster or….I can just pull something out of fanny." Pushing herself up she'd go over to the table with the bolt of fabric on it and swiped a measuring tape from it as she spoke. "As what I need from you. I need you to take your clothes off to just your boxers, tell me a budget, and give me a deposit bending on said budget. Because if you let me loose on this….no take backsies…."

Sketch paper rustles quietly as Strange flips through the offerings in the file folder. His dark brows knit in consideration as he pauses over one particular design. Dark in scheme of hue, with a cant towards the Venetian masquerades of Italy. Masculine, absolutely, with touches of Roman veneer and also of Brothers Grimm.

A fingertip tap-tap on this page in particular. "I defer to your experience and vision, of course, but this could prove a jumping point, this here." Removing the sheet, he then closes the folder and rises to his feet. At 6'2", he looms without meaning to do so. The sketch sheet and file are set upon her desk and he then steps centrally within the room.

"Budget is no matter." He says this calmly as he gets to unbuttoning the dress shirt sleeves. "Give me an idea of what the deposit might be."

After she grabbed that tape, she was leaning against the table waiting as she let him finger through the papers. When he came to a stop, those brows would raise as she walked over to meet him and grinned. "Oh that's one of my faves. I've been dying for an excuse to make one of these costumes…" Seeming absolutely giddy, she would move her desk to grab a pen and that pad as she followed him to the center of the room. Setting it all on the floor she would then hold out her arms for him to place his clothing across so she could hang them up to not get wrinkled. "Does it need to be warm? Or does it not matter?" A tilt of her head as she then seemed to be in thought before nodding. "If I do all of this out of a nice velvet…it'll give a textured look in contrast to the hand dyed accents. So all in all it may cost about…." She'd murmur to herself in French before nodded. "Probably about three of four grand by time I get all the fabrics, embellishments and labor. So just give me about five hundred down as a deposit and let me take photos of the finished product for my portfolio…." A grin then as she winked. "I'll not photo your face….don't worry. Most dudes I deal with don't like their photos taken so I end to just do a photo of the outfit itself." That and she had a thing about confidentiality.

"Done." A brisk agreement to the term set by the fashionista — price, photographs, and all — and Strange then finishes unbuttoning the dress shirt. It's slung across her arm and the dress pants follow. His is a lean build, worked weekly — if not daily — by the rigors of protecting the Earth and its dimension against interlopers intent on destroying or diverting its Fate. No scarring save for faint marks upon his neck, visible with a lucky squint. The height further stretches the muscle upon his body and doesn't allow for any padding.

"If it's possible to have a modicum of comfort in the sense of warmth, then yes. I doubt the conference will be held anywhere distinctly chilly, but one never knows." A shrug and he adopts a loose stance. His arms stretch wide again and he quips lightly, "Measure away."

Humming she would take those clothes and make her way to the clothing rack, hanging them up carefully. A lick of her lips as she turned to face him then cracked her knuckles. "Now then….." Wiggling those manicured fingers she'd make her way back over then picked that tape up and stared at him. "I'm gonna measure almost everything twice. I'll need one relaxed then a measuremetn flexed for room. D'accord?" She didn't even wait for a response as she went to work, not writing anything down yet. A lick of her lips as she then spoke up. "So how did you know he head an office her? We're not exactly common knowledge per se. Plus he normally makes appointments….or at least tries to give me a heads up."

"Word of mouth," Strange says quietly, as to how he came across the place. "I normally go to Greenfield and associates for my suit fitting, but I've never had an issue with following up on side comments. I admit, I made no appointment." The weight of the measuring tape is an interesting sensation, light and thin, tight in passing as lengths and circumfrences are taken. "I knocked and hoped for the best. If you'd turned me away, I wouldn't have been offended. I don't appreciate drop-ins when I'm occupied, personally."

A glance to the woman again. "Let me know when to flex."

"Fair enough….." Smiling she wasn't really looking at him as she was focusing. "I ran into someone that apparently I had done a fitting for their mother….didn't think she'd know who I was. I tend to keep to myself, do my work, and go home." Chuckling she would tell him to flex every moment and then as she measured his upper body. She'd drop down to her knees then as she leaned over to write down all of those numbers she just took down. "I'm pretty laid back to be honest. I have a few projects now that I got in some unconventional ways…." Humming softy she would keep writing down that information as she went silent for a bit then before sitting up on her knees and began to measure his lower half. "Alright….I'll be making some spats too to go over your shoes for the costume….so when you know what shoes you will wear bring them in so I can take a look at them if you don't mind." Gidget would then look up at him as she nodded. "And trust me….if I didn't want to be bothered I would have had my door shut and locked or just said come back. So no stress…." Shrugging she'd go back to that notebook to make some notes then.

The habits of the Eastern martial arts might show in the controlled isolations of muscular flexion in his body for her measuring tape. The good Doctor nods at the request for a future visit in regards to his dress shoes.

"I'll call before I drop in next time, in the case that you're entertaining another client. I appreciate your flexibility in taking on my request." He gives her a friendly smile, flexing his fingers out of unconscious fidget. "How would you like the deposit? Cash, check…?"

"No stress…..just leave your information with Gabriella upfront so we can have you on file on our client list." She'd stand up slowly then as she looked him over then walked around him as if inspecting. "….I'm so glad you didn't choose anything with cape…." She'd snort then as she laughed and shook her head. "I have a thing about capes and functionality." Mainly with her more….special clients; she didn't get it if it could get caught in things, grabbed, etc. Sighing she'd return to standing in front of him then as she nodded. "As for that….whatever works best for you, Doctor Strange." Bending over she would pick up that notebook then and walked over to her desk. Sifting through the paperwork she would find the sketch he liked and looked it over before ripping those measurements out of the book and stapling them to the design. Looking it over, she'd smile brightly then as she placed it on top of those other sketches on top of the filing cabinet then. "I'm easy so whatever works for you." Secretly…she was hoping no more cash after the fat envelope she got handed for her main project; it nearly gave her a heart attack but at least this wasn't that amount of money if he did. "And I promise you will love this! Thanks for letting me work on this for you….most people look for Mr. Pucci but he's overseas almost all the time."

The quirk of a Cheshire Cat's grin causes those dimples to appear upon his face. "A shame, your feelings on capes. What about cloaks?" The good Doctor gathers up his clothing and begins to dress himself once again, all controlled grace and lines. "I find them extremely functional." The laughter sparkles in his eyes rather than from his lips.

Once he's properly attired again, all buttons hooked and looking dapper, Strange reaches into the back pocket of his pants. "Who would I make the check out to, since your mentor is overseas?" Wait, where did he get the pen from? One moment his hand was empty and then next, a subtle riffling of fingers, and the black fountain pen hovers over the slip of paper.

She'd roll her eyes a bit. "I mean come on….they're just….limp and hang there." A roll of her eyes then as she chuckled a bit. "It's not really doing anything back there but looking pretty." Gidget seemed matter of fact on the subject as she gave a small shrug. "Show me a useful cape and maybe…just maybe….I'll not be so grumpy about it." She'd lean on her desk then as she watched him pull out a pen but then blinked. Wait…she didn't feel a pen…but….looking to her glass of scotch she'd shake her head then. She had literally just started that glass. Shaking her head she'd smile at him. "Gidget M. Boileau….it's my project since it's nothing he's sent me word about…and he hates costumes anyway." Once the check was written she'd take it from him and put it with his paperwork for her to deal with in a few moments. "Well I'll be in touch. I'll get started on it so I can get your project out the way and you won't have to stress…." Smirking she'd give him a playful wink then. "You'll love it…."

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