1965-06-02 - A Cowgirl's New Clothes
Summary: Looking for a super-suit, Amber meets Forge and Thea in a dive bar in Mutant Town.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
name1 name2 


Harry's Bar & Grill, Mutant Town, New York. 11:35PM, 02/JUN/65
Amber steps out of the surprising NYC heat, into Harry's, your bog-standard New York dive bar with a lot of local mutant color, pauses to take her Stetson off and acclimatize herself for a moment. "Okay, this is new an' different.", she says to herself, stepping into the bar proper. "Hope he's here."

*

Forge doesn't really drink much, not when he has long drives ahead. But he does have a coke in his hand, as he sits back in silence and solitude, at a table in the corner.

*

Thea will ease in off the street into the bar, heels clicking away. Blonde hair is up in a classic twist, and she's got her sweater over her arm, dressed in an icy blue halter dress. Some of the mutants will nod or wave, or just smile. She's become more known, since she's been pitching in at the clinic. She will smile, and nod in return, as she'll inch her way down along the bar, looking for a good spot to pause and order a drink. She will step around the brunette girl, a smile. "Weekends are always popular."

*

"Does look that way, ma'am.", Amber smiles, nodding politely to the blonde woman pressing past her. A glance at the barkeep is rewarded with a nod in the direction of a hat rack, which she hangs her Stetson on. Following Thea in, she manages to find a barstool, a couple of taps at the bar reclaims the barkeep's attention. "Whatever y'all have on draft, please, sir.", she says simply. "I was wonderin', heard tell there was a fella comes here sometimes, calls himself Forge?", she inquires.

*

Forge will be pointed at. Somehow noticing that, he looks up, and sees Amber as the beneficiary of the pointing. He watches her, recognizing her, and nods. He's not exactly sure what she was acting, but he guesses it's something he's agreeable to.

*

Thea just can't help herself, sometimes. She will settle at the bar, waiting her turn. She'll over several fingers of whiskey, neat, sliding a bill on the bar with a tip of her head. She'll cover the draft beer, dreadful choice that it is. "That's certainly the direct route." She'll comment softly, a glance over her shoulder at the man being pointed at. Huh.

*

"Thank you, ma'am.", Amber says to the blond lady who just paid for her beer. "Much obliged.", she smiles. "You know him?", she asks, peering into the fog bank of tobacco smoke towards Forge. "Good guy, or not so much?", she asks, fishing her wallet from out of her back pocket and depositing a ten dollar bill on the bar. "Her next two's on me.", she smiles to the bartender.

*

Forge sips from his bottle, watching Amber. Squinting a little, trying to figure out just what's going on. Is he about to be hit on, and she's psyching herself up? Never know, but he doesn't seem to be in a hurry to break the ice, still just sitting there. Sip.

*

Thea will pause and push the girl's money back. "You're clearly not from around here. Consider it a welcome to New York drink." The blonde doesn't need her drinks bought, though she's not wearing anything to really give that away. "Forge? Nope. Might have heard the name once or twice, but never paid attention. I'm too busy to eavesdrop." Thea will spin on her barstool. "Only one way to find out." She'll slip off the stool, glass in hand, and walk her way over to that corner table. A hand will lean down on his table, brown eyes focusing on his face. "Hi! Forge, right? Tell me, are you a good guy, or slime ball?" Her smile will be bright, almost teasing, but she's watching his vitals like a hawk with her powers. He can /try/ to lie, but…

*

Okay…that was unexpected. Wincing slightly, Amer snags her untouched mug of whatchamacallum draft and follows the blond woman over to Forge's table. "Howdy, sir.", she says, nodding politely and offering her hand. "Name's Ember. Word has it you're good at making tihngs.", she says. "I might be in need of a price quotation.", she adds. "See, I got a problem I got no idea how to get around. My powers, well….", she sighs. "They're a mite hard on the wardrobe.'

*

Forge finds this an intersting development. It's the other one who comes up to talk to him. It's a team effort. His bottle he puts down, without letting go of it. Not moving then for amoment, before he smirks, and chuckles "I'm nothing special, but I never hurt anyone since the war." Eyes flicking around, now as Amber joins her friend. That seems off protocol. His metallic hand happens to bet he one free to take Amber's gently. "Forge, but you already knew that, it seems. Have a seat, but I'm not a seamstress."

*

Thea will turn that bright smile on Ember. "He passes the test, at least the first one." Not that either of these people know her, but a girl not terribly long in the city, meeting a strange man.. Thea has an unusual protective instinct, for the moment. She'll take a seat. "I don't have a neat mutant name, alas. Never thought one up."

*

"Pleased to meet you, sir.", Amber replies with a firm, friendly handshake. Thea's smile gets a beamy one in reply. "Just thought of mine th' other day, miss.", she winks, chuckling. "Kinda new to all this foofurah.", she shrugs, taking a seat. "Pleased to meet you too, miss?", she says, voice trailing off inquiringly.

*

Forge looks to each of the women again, considering them a moment, then chuckles again. "An odd reason to be approached in a bar, but please, explain what you need." Bottle raised again for another slow sip.

*

There is a smile beamed at 'Ember' again. "Don't have a neat secret name, I'm afraid. You can call me Al." There's a wink, before she sips at whiskey. She'll turn her gaze to Forge, studying the metal arm without it looking like she is, thanks to her powers.

*

Amber takes a nervous sip of her beer, settling into a chair at the table. "Al, heh, cute.", she chuckles to Thea. "Okay, I'm a….", she begins, dropping her voice to a near whisper. "I'm a firestarter.", she says to Forge. Then she notices the arm and loses her train of thought for a blushing, hot moment. "Um…well….I was wonderin' if you might have any notion as to fireproof my clothes? Some kind of spray or somethin'?", she asks Forge hopefully. "I ain't got a lot of money, but I do have an income.", she adds quickly. "No charity case, me."

*

Forge lifts the hand, flexing his fingers. "I lost it in the war," he explains with another sip. "You have an income with the Institute, yes. I've seen you there before." the man nods, speaking quietly and evenly. "You don't want a clothing treatment. You want a suit. As the X-Men use."

*

There's a soft sigh at the brunette girl's whispering and loss of composure. Then she's blinking, pausing before that next sip of whiskey. "Jesus, I get busy for a couple months, and I just get so behind in meeting everyone out there at Xavier's, don't I." She mutters. "She won't need to give you a dime. I'll cover it." She will bluntly state, without asking 'Ember'. "She'll probably need several, no?" She'll sip that whiskey now, those brown eyes on Forge's face calm as could be.

*

"So it /is/ true.", Amber replies, blinking owlishly. "I /knew/ it!", she chortles, shaking her head slowly. "Professor's been playin' his cards awful close to his vest, but there's been a powerful amount of rumors runnin' about the place.", she sighs. "Damn. "There really /is/ a jet.", she says, snapping her fingers. "Diz lied to me.", she giggles. "Gonna have to put that one on her tab at some point or another.", she notes with a giggle.
"No, no, miss, I appreciate the offer very much.", she says to Thea, nodding politely. "But I pay my own way. Always have, always will.", she says with a hint of bedraggled pride. "I'm more than willin' to put in whatver effort's required."

*

Forge raises a hand. "Don't turn down the offer so hastily. Even if I do the work for free, the materials for such a suit may run into the tens of thousands, depending on your intent. Do you want something loose, and industrial. Or tight, and heroic?"

*

Thea will look at Ember. "Honey, let me be blunt. I can afford it. You can earn it from me. I have a delivery of several bottles meant for the Professor that I haven't been able to get out there to him, and it needs to be a personal delivery, not a service or the mail. I get the bottles every six weeks, and it would be helpful to not have them cluttering up my place." She doesn't even blink at the mention of tens of thousands.

*

Thea's response elicits a nod, and offer of her hand. "You've got yourself a deal, ma'am.", she says. "Anything you need outside of my workin' hours, you just give me a call.", she says. "I'll be there with bells on.", she winks.
Turning her attention back to Forge, Amber frowns a little. "Mostly just want somethin' to wear under my clothes won't burn to a cinder.", she shrugs. "Just to keep me decent in case things go sideways. Nothin' fancy, just…functional, if that makes any sense."

*

Forge tilts his metallic hand back and forth. "IT's not that simple. If you wear something under your clothes, your clothes will still burn. You'll just be waering the thing underneath. So you might as well just use the thing underneath as your suit. Right?"

*

"Oh.. oh it hurts me." Thea says in a light tone. "Ember, a woman always needs fashion and function." She won't touch the other woman, but it's a close thing. She'll turn that gaze to Forge as she just watches him a moment, sipping whiskey. "Which is why we'll go for several. I'll assume you can do a couple different styles?" Trust the woman with the perfect hair and the quietly expensive dress, Amber!

*

Amber blushes hotly. "I…I suppose, so.", she stammers, sipping lamely at her beer, Note to self, never order what's on draft here again /ever/. It…is not good. "Y'all are bein' awful kind to me.", she notes, blushing a bit more, if that's possible. "I guess….Just….somethin' simple.", she shrugs. "Ain't lookin' to make any magazine covers or whatnot. Just…if it hits the fan, don't wanna have to cover myself up.", she smirks. "Done that once back in Montana. Sheep, wolves….didn't end well.", she chuclkes, shivering a little. "Cold as hell out that way."

*

Forge coughs, and shifts a bit. "Well. Why don't we model your suit after something like the heroes use? Something form fitting, that you could wear something over if you wanted. But it would be liable to be burned."

*

"I consider it a wise investment." Thea remarks with a hint of dry humor, before she will toss back the rest of her whiskey. "I wouldn't think a firestarter would get cold. Hmm. Learn something new every day." The blonde will produce two small, white business cards, to push one at each of them. She'll look at Ember. "Call me soon, let me know what's going on, and we'll make arrangements." Then that gaze will sharpen as she looks at Forge. "Call me, and we'll arrange the up front cost for materials." She will move to rise. "Now if you will both excuse me, I have some other things to see to, before I sleep. I hope you both have a good evening.

*

Amber pulls a spiral notebook out of the back pocket of her jeans and hastily scribbles a phone number onto it. "This is my number at the Institute.", she says, passing the paper over to Thea. "You can reach me there most times after five o'clock. Anything you need done, you give me a call.", she says, nodding politely as Thea makes her exit. "Thank you so much, ma'am.", she says.
"I dunno what that would look like, sir.", she sighs. "I've seen what Spider-Man wears, and I don't think I could pull that off.", she smirks, taking another sip of her awful. awful beer. What in tarnation are they serving here?! "Just…I dunno, the basics. Cover the bottom, breasts and nethers, really.", she shrugs. "Fireproof undies, I suppose."

*

Forge rubs his forehead as she goes into the specifics, but he does glance her way. "So you suggest showing more skin is the way to be… more modest?"

*

"Heh, fair point, sir.", Amber nods. "Honestly, sir, I have no idea what I'm doing.", she sighs. "This all's kind of a whirlwind, if you take my meaning.", she adds, sipping at her beer reluctantly. "Ugh…yeah, that's cat's piss….Imported cat's piss.", she scoffs, putting her mug down.

*

Forge ssnorts, still rubbing his face as he looks at the young woman. "Just copy what the experts do. Do you see them wearing, uh, a bare stomach? Copy what works."

*

Amber gives a rueful chuckle and nods. "You've got a point, sir, you certainly do.", she sighs. "I just…", she starts, the blushes. "I just don't wanna look too …crazy, does that make any sense?", she says. "I'm a tee shirt and jeans kinda gal, as you've no doubt noticed. Fancy clothes always make me nervous. Like I'm gonna spill chocolate ice cream on 'em at the exact wrong moment. IF that makes any sense."

*

Forge squints, and sits back. "You don't want to look crazy, while you set yourself on fire, leaving yourself unharmed, while harming whatever supervillain you're doing combat with. Uh huh." Shaking his head, sipping this coke again. "You need to embrace waht you're proposing to do. You want use your powers to change the world."

*

"World don't change, sir.", Amber replies flatly. "Just us in it. I ain't a crusader. I'll do what has to be done if others are in danger, sure, but I'm not lookin' to be the next Steve Rogers or whatever….That way, frankly, sir, lies madness, in my book.", she says. "These kinda powers, apt to drive you crazy if you let 'em."

*

Forge shakes his head. "You just want to be the next Jean Grey. But. We'll try. I will see if I can get a line on the materials. Let you know the cost, and then you can get what you need from her."

*

Amber offers her hand. "Deal.", she says, nodding. "And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry about your arm an' very grateful for your service.", she says, unconsciously miming doffing her hat. "It's been a pleasure.'

*

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