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Amber's Apartment, Xavier Institute, 5:12pm, 10/JUN/1965
The little one-room apartment Amber occupies over the maintenance shed is mostly notable for two things. One, it's size, or, more precisely, the lack thereof; two, it's central feature, the standard-sized claw-foot bathtub that sits dead-center in the room. Even behind the discreet white shower curtain, it's hard to miss. To the left is a tiny icebox, single stove and sink with a munchkin-sized cupboard. To the right, a single bed and a small wardrobe, and a full length mirror attached to the wall. Her toilet, fortunately, is discreetly concealed in the only other room. The floors are hardwood with slightly faded rugs here and there as needed.
"Howdy, c'mon in.", Amber smiles, motioning Forge inside. "Can I get ya anythin'? Got some tea, Dr Pepper, no beer, though, don't wanna give th' young'uns any ideas. Like they need the help.", she chuckles.
*
Forge is carrying a large bag of an olive drab color, as he enters. "I'm fine, thank you," he nods, setting the bag down. "You uh, your patron was able to supply all the material you needed, aparently regardless of the cost." Opening up the bag, stood on one end, he starts to pull out the high-tech material, in a gray-white color. "This is undyed. You'll be able to color it as you like, according to any secret identity you choose."
*
:gives a bit of a wince at the mention of cost, but can't help but take the material to give it a look-see. "Wow, this is…really soft. I'd ask what it's made of, but I doubt I'd understand the answer.", she smiles, running her fingertips over the material gently.
*
Forge chuckles. "It'd better be soft, because it's meant to be form fitting, cushioning forces from your body, allowing you to use your powers to their fullest. Whatever they may be. You mentioned fire." He pauses, and goes into a pocket to pull out a large lighter. Flicking it on, he holds the material up to the flame with his metallic hand, and just lets it heat up, and heat up. "Don't touch my finger, it will burn you, though note that the material doesn't even discolor."
*
"Heh, I don't 'xactly get burned, sir.", Amber smiles, reaching over to lay her index finger on Forge's, like the material, it doesn't even discolor. There's no reaction at all. "Wow, now that's impressive.", she says, giving a low whistle as she watches the material seemingly ignore the heat. "Form-fitting? Eh, well, guess it'd have t' be, gotta wear it under my clothes, an' all."
*
Forge isn't turning red hot on the finger, but it'd be enough to burn otherwise. After she touches, he chuckles, and reaches over, popping open the cooler to dip hs fingers into the ice with a hiss. "It's not that simple. You could do that in your everday life, but to use this properly… well, you've seen the X Men in operation, haven't you?"
*
"Eh, no, not precisely. The Professor's been playin' it kinda close to th' vest. I mean, I knew they existed, newspapers an' radio an' all, just not that they operated outta here, y'see. Just got confirmation last night. Ain't been invited t' join th' team or nothin' yet.", she explains. "Main reason I was lookin' for this' as a just n' case, if that makes any sense. My life's been apt to turn screwy on me with precious little notice."
*
Forge pulls out a bit more of the fabric, and nods. "We will leave it undyed for now then. IT would be presumptuous to put you in the X-Men colors yet." Then looking to her "But if you get a newspaper, you'll see that you can't really wear clothing over this, and keep it fully effective. Now uh, we do need to take." He pauses to cough. "I need you to take honest, accurate measurements for precise tailoring."
*
"Oh, oh, okay, I see whatcha mean.", Amber nods. "An' yer right, it'd be kinda gettin' ahead a' myself t' do that.", she nods. "Um…how precise are we talkin' here?", she asks with a hint of nervousness.
*
Forge holds up the fabric, and pulls some of it against his arm. "If you give me measurements too tight, you will have difficulty moving and breathing. Too loose, in the name of modesty, and it won't protect you. Air pockets might superheat under your powers and tear the material."
*
"Ah, I think I see where yer goin' with this.", Amber replies, nodding. "Okay t' leave my undies on?", she says, beginning to unceremoniously disrobe. "Reckon' I'd be wearin' 'em under it, anyhow, right?"
*
Forge closes his eyes, and turns around. "It depends on what you're wearing. Bluntly, Amber, if you're wearing something more traditional, that won't work. You'll have to go with something more.. modern cut."
*
"Aw, shoot…", Amber sighs. "Eh…well, ain't nothin' for it. Ain't like nobody's ever seen my birthday suit b'fore.", she says, and finishes undressing completely. "Heh, ain't much t' see worth writin' home about, anyhow.", she chuckles nervously. "Okay, let's get this over with. Proceed, sir."
*
Forge pauses, and goes into his pocket. "Are you sure you wouldn't be more comfortable taking the measurements yourself?" he asks, with another cough, while holding out a tape measure without looking.
*
"Yeah, that's a good idea.", Amber nods, taking the tape measure and setting to work. It's a stop and go process, Amber being no tailor. But after a few fits and starts, the relevant measurements are arrived at. "Here ya go.", she says, passing back the tape measure. "One sec.", she adds, pulling back on her bra and underwear. "Okay, safe to look now."
*
Forge is well prepared for this, since it was an arranged meeting. With the lighter in one pocket he also has a pad and paper, to take notes of all the measurements, telling her additional things to measure as she goes. Finally when done, and told to look, he turns around, but is taken aback that she's only half dressed. "Well…"
*
"Heh, you been on a beach b'fore, ain't ya, sir?", Amber chuckles as she shimmies back into her jeans. "Ain't much differece to it, is there?", she asks. "Least not nowadays.", she notes with a slight roll of her eyes. "So, that's everything?", she asks, buttoning up her shirt and pulling her boots back on.
*
Forge finally lets out a chuckle, smiling to her. "Well yes. But a man might enjoy the view more than he should on the beach, as well." Shaking his head putting the pad away. "That's everything. I will cut the material to size, which is the most difficult step. Finding the fewest cuts needed, pepareing it to be welded together. I'll have it to you in a week."
*
"Hell, they do that anywhere, in my experience.", Amber chuckles. "I can't thank you enough for this, sir.", she says, offering her hand. "It's a kindness I will not forget. You need anythin', anythin' a'tall, you gimme a holler, y'hear?", she says sincerely. "Hey, I was gonna fix some supper 'fore too long. Wanna stick around? Nothin' fancy, just scrambled eggs, chili an' Fritos. Lotsa cheese.", she smiles. "Damn tasty. Can have it ready in time for Outer Limits.
*
Forge snorts through his nose, still a little smile. "Please do get dressed, and I'll take you up on your offer, Amber. Thank you.". He'll then set the materials aside, and take his jacket off, to enjoy the meal.
*
"I am dressed, already.", Amber chuckles, "Whatcha want t' drink?", she asks, moving to the cupboard and icebox to start getting supper started. "Set the teevee to channel nine an' grab some couch, this don't take long t'make."