14482/Progress in Fashion

From Heroes Assemble MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Progress in Fashion
Date of Scene: 23 March 2023
Location: JVD Fashion, 5th Avenue NYC.
Synopsis: Brian stops by JVD Fashions to visit Janet after a promise made in London years ago.
Cast of Characters: Brian Braddock, Janet van Dyne




Brian Braddock has posed:
Anonymity has its perks. It means that one Lord Braddock can waltz into the flagship store for JVD Fashions and be relatively assured that he's going to set off no flood of paparazzi in the process. No squeals from the attendants, no attempts at sneaky cellphones, no nothing -- and he's very grateful for it. It means his smile he gives the establishment's greeter is an honest one. How can they assist him today?

"Simply looking for the moment, thank you. I'm visiting from across the pond and thought I might see what an old acquaintance has done with several successful years," the Brit replies. "I've no need for assistance at this time." With that, the tall and broad-shouldered man gets to meandering through the clothing on display. He can see where seasonals begin and end, where wintertime's warmth is being replaced by the flirtatiousness of spring and more daring cuts due to the sun's presence. Lighter fabrics, pastels mixed in with bold hues... The mainstays are present as well, of course: the ballgowns, luxury wear, tuxedos, all things which never go out of style.

Brian's currently lingering at the divide between the ballgowns and tuxedos, undecided about which section deserves his attention most. He's already spotted what appears to be a very nice overcoat, but then again, that particular ballgown might be something Betsy would find appealing. It's a lovely shade of green, kind of like...

"Bloody hell, Brian, she was just dating Captain America, get past yourself," the Brit mutters as he turns his attention to the overcoat.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet pays her employees very well for their discretion. She also pays them well for their initiative. Brian's not dripping with the osentatious wealth of the noveau-riche because old-world wealth advertises itself in entirely different ways. Belts, shoes, cuffs, the cut of the suit; none of it is missed. So he's left alone for a little while, and somewhere near the socks he's ambushed by a young man in vest and trousers, armed with sparkling water. Not long after a woman in her thirties in a dark skirt and jacket engages with him near the tuxedo racks and with a casual, disarming way, showcases a few of their products without pushing the sale.

Gucci is what poor people think rich people wear. Janet caters to neither. Her clientele are the people who use brands that only the super-elite can afford, or even recognize.

"Janet?" Her assistant peeks around the door to her office. It's much smaller than her setting in the Brooklyn studio, much better kept and used less often. She looks over at him from her mannequin with a lifted brow and talks around the pins in her mouth. "What?"

"There's a gentleman from Windsor here looking at the attire. Lawton suit, Crockett shoes. You might want to pop in on him."

Janet sighs and drives her pins into the mannequin's neck, then steps off the stool. "God, that's all I need, another puffy British aristocrat wanting me to zip him up in a suit he's too round for."

Her assist follows in Janet's wake, firmly suppressing a grin, and Janet comes up behind Brian and puts a hand on his arm to get his attention.

"Excuse me, are you--" she blinks when she realizes the size of the fellow she's addressing, and when Brian turns to face her, Janet's face freezes in surprise as she recognizes the towering fellow but can't immediately put his name on her lips.

Brian Braddock has posed:
Sparkling water? Thank you kindly. An introduction to the various cuts and fits of tuxedo suit-vests and jackets? Appreciated, thank you again.

Brian's still sipping at the small bottle of sparkling water (sporting the Ghost of Citrus Past) when there's the light preemptive touch to his arm. He turns in place to counter-address the one speaking and shares the moment of frozen surprise. He'd only half expected the proprietess and fashion mogul to be on the grounds of the store as is.

"Miss van Dyne," the Brit manages after a moment. "A pleasure to see you again. I know it's been a number of years since London, but you did ask of me that were I ever to be in New York..." The unspoken continuation of the sentence is just about, 'here I am'. "Lord Brian Braddock. Betsy's brother." The addendum comes out slightly rushed because he's gone and realized that it's been literal -years- since they last spoke...well, like this, at least...and no doubt Janet sees a goodly nunber of British clientele each -week- much less a day.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Betsy's brother," Janet says at the exact same time, and gives Brian's arm a grateful squeeze for the prompt. She gets her brain in gear and manages to produce a sunny smile. "God, it's been-- what, five years? Six?" she inquires. "I've asked your sister about you a time or two, she always mumbles something vague about you doing well, blah blah blah." The socialite's wearing a deceptively simple outfit: a long-sleeved black dress that covers her arms and knees, clinging to every curve.

Janet turns in place and suddenly has her arm hooked through Brian's elbow, and starts walking him to the back of the store. Not so much that she could physically *force* him to go, but she's definitely exploiting social manners into cajoling him into keeping up with her. It also reveals the dress is completely backless, exposing a vast field of dimpled sun-kissed skin.

"C'mon, there's a little lounge back here," she explains, and her assistant darts ahead to get the doors open and admit the two into the back of the store. Indeed there's not just a lounge, there's a fitting area back there, with an interrupted circle of pink-velvet benches all centered around a fitting stand. "Come here, sit sit sit," she invites, and sits herself in place before patting the bench next to her encouragingly. "What has you in town? Stalking any fashion shows I should know about?"

Brian Braddock has posed:
"Five years," Brian confirms of the time span. His smile grows to similar pleased proportions and it breaks when Janet reveals of Betsy's usual desire to respect her brother's sense of privacy. The not-quite answers have him laughing quietly. "And Betsy never lied the once. 'Doing well' is a perfectly acceptable answer."

It takes a few steps for Brian to become aware of how he's being steered mostly of his own volition. It takes far fewer steps for him to acknowledge the cut of the black dress in its backless state. Brows do a subtle dance upwards as he brings his attention back to the front, his lips too twitching against propriety. The upholstery of the benches seem gaudy and yet precisely right to him even as he makes his way over and sits where prompted.

"I had some spare time on my hands and the blessing of diplomacy," says he of the 'why' he's in New York even as he adjusts the lay of his suit-jacket upon his frame. "There was also the BKLYN Fashion Academy's model casting call and a cousin wished for my supportive presence. How not to indulge her? She may receive a call after all. I believe the city's largest fashion affair was in February, yes?"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet crosses her legs towards Brian and tucks one ankle behind the other, and rests an elbow on the seatback between them to keep turned towards her visitor. When Brian brings up the BKLYN Academy, Janet's smile only increases in appreciative intensity.

"Lookit you, doing your homework," she says with an approving tone. "It's always a zoo around here this time of year. We're rushing to get the spring wardrobe prepped so it can send out the day after Fashion Week. I try to have my ducks in a row so my distribution channels aren't just stuck waiting for product to arrive."

One of Janet's employees wheels in a cart and lowers it to form a little tray for the two to enjoy. Janet dismisses them with a finger-flicker and gestures at the tray. "Can I pour you a drink? Tea, coffee-- I'm pretty sure I've got something stronger around here if you're still on London time and want a pick-me-up," she offers.

Brian Braddock has posed:
"Of course. It bodes well to be proactive rather than react in the face of sudden need," Brian agrees without missing a beat. He's comfortable on the couch as well if only half-able to stretch his arm along the low backing of the pink-upholstered benches. There's no wish to make things awkward with infringed space.

He glances over as the staff member arrives with the tray of drinks. The gentleman gives a little smile and mouthed 'thank you' before turning his attention back to Janet.

"I've not struggled much with the change of the time zones, but I'll see what quality of tea you have. A breakfast black, perchance? You'll forgive me if I say that I haven't found a tea yet to my liking since I arrived," he tells the fashionista, his grin just a touch crooked and apologetic, just in case. "Were it later in the day, I might enjoy a gin-and-tonic. So." The pause is for him to look around the sumptuous privacy of the fitting room. "You've done quite well for yourself. I predicted nothing less."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"You won't like this," Janet promises Brian, and opens up a tiny little tea service. "It's all fresh from a shop in Chinatown. I don't even know where it is, my assistant found it and he's withholding the information for purposes of pay negotation."

Janet does it right, moving a measure of the loose tea into an infuser and turning on the electric kettle. Once it hits the right temperature she pours it into a container and turns over an egg timer to let the tea leaves steep.

She sits back and looks around the lounge, wrinkling her nose slightly. "Yeah, I have," she agrees. She looks at Brian and shrugs. "I mean, we're one of the biggest luxury brands in the world. When we went public the company valuation hit a billion dollars almost overnight. Which was actually a relief, I was able to step back a bit from work and get back to keeping things running smoothly with the Avenger's. It was a lot easier this time around, I wasn't just some kid trying to make a bunch of big personalities cooperate for ten minutes."

She pours off the tea over a small statue, then sets it steeping again and looks back at Brian. "How about you? You were doing something..." she frowns. "College, right? You were doing some science thing...?" she trails off, with a prompting nod.

Brian Braddock has posed:
Able to sense the dry humor in Janet's words, the Brit leans back slightly more against the bench's backing. He seems fully inclined to let her go about this brewing of the tea, blue eyes tracking the manner of the kettle hitting its particular numbers as well as the rest of the process.

She speaks of numbers and Brian lifts his brows. "Monumental indeed," he murmurs in agreement of 'relief'. That she appears to be a voice of reason for the Avengers, for some reason, has him smiling to himself. Just as quickly, while her focus is on the tea, he schools his features to attentive neutrality again.

But college, right?

"The sciences, yes," he confirms to Janet before futher iterating, "When last we spoke in London, I was finishing my Masters in Physics and Engineering. I intend to finish my Doctorate in Theoretical Physics as well as time allows it. To sit at a desk with a steaming cuppa and research the curvature of spacetime..." The blond's sigh is nearly reverent. "No better time to be spent on a rainy day."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet doesn't quite stare at Brian, but there's a half a beat where the look she gives him is the sort of dead-footed surprise that one feels when being told an in-law is in town for a prolonged stay. It vanishes quickly enough and she musters a smile. "Agree to disagree on that," she remarks with a wry expression. "I prefer to spend my rainy days somewhere tropical. Or in a club with the heat turned up."

The tea is properly steeped and she pours quite carefully for Brian before offering him a cup and saucer. Janet picks a jasmine tea for herself and restarts the process, sitting back in her seat with her hands in her lap. "Hank-- my ex-husband," she amends, "I think one of his degrees was in theoretical physics. But he was always outrunning his classes, the work on the Pym Particle alone got the attention of every graduate committee on the East Coast. I don't even know what'd he do with that sort of education if he wasn't into building things. Do you want to get hired at, like, NASA?" she venturs. "Or whatever Britain's equivalent to that is."

Brian Braddock has posed:
"...fair," Brian allows of their extreme differences in opinion. There's the tiniest sigh as he realizes his come-on missed entirely. Drat. When the tea is deemed done by his hostess, he takes the offered saucer and cup. The sniff at the rising steam is understated if discerning and...his brows once more lift. It might...not even need lemon, just a little sugar at most.

A testing sip proves this to be the case. He sets down the saucer in order to find the small container of sugar, the better to add one spoon-tap's worth of sugar. Having the grace to lightly quirk brows at the 'ex' portion of things, Brian sips at his tea and rolls his lips to further refine flavor acquisition. A flicker of his tongue across his lips to is silent approval: this is the best tea he's had since arriving. If there's a chance he can speak to her assistant...

"I thought perhaps of joining the work at CERN at one point if certain universities weren't available," he admits. "High-end research analysis isn't far-fetched either."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Mmm," Janet murmurs, acknowledging his words without quite stating an opinion. "Well, there are a lot of top-tier science centers in this part of the country," she says with a polished agreeability. There's a subtle shift in her shoulders that's hard to read; perhaps a bit of defensiveness? Or just fatigue slouching her a little bit.

"How about your sister, is she being any help?" she suggests, switching topics slightly. "I know she's got lots of friends in the science community, um... up north," she says, very delicately, and with a stone-blank poker face. If Brian doesn't know about Betsy's living arrangements, she's not going to volunteer any secrets. "Are you going for like an exchange program, or scholarship...?" A wrist rolls encouragingly, making it hard to tell if Janet's really interested or just being politely enthusiastic.

Brian Braddock has posed:
Swimming with the social sharks for years has the British gentleman suddenly taking his time with his next sip of tea. He watches Janet closer now after he catches the easy affability, the kind which covers up a different opinion entirely.

"I, uh..." -- and Brian laughs quietly, a sense of disheartening cross his features until it mildly shadows his polite smile. "I mean to speak with my sister while I'm here in America, yes. We're in desperate need of a proper catch-up. She knows now that I know you, yes. She doesn't know of how your ex-husband turned down a good friend's application years ago." Spreading his lips in a thin baring of teeth, more for the slight hissing inhale and sigh to follow, he shrugs. "He didn't have the proper qualifications. Neither do I...still. Thus, CERN or elsewhere. But, Miss van Dyne, I came to speak to you, not about myself or my studies. I have been told too many times that I spend too -much- time at my studies. While I am in New York? I intend to ignore them. These clubs you prefer: are they like those in London?"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet's expression visibly hardens when Brian brings up Hank and his frequent failures to be a decent person. Whether that's aggravating her personally or via proxy is hard to pin down but she smoothes it away effortlessly.

"I'm a little surprised I was a higher priority than your sister," she admits, and plucks at some imaginary dust on her immaculate black dress. It's flickered aside and she looks back at Brian.

"I actually went to a Swiss boarding school, so we'd go up to London on hols a few times a year," she explains. "London's bar scene isn't quite as exciting as New York's, but maybe that's just because I know the terrain here better."

"There are some proper pubs, and plenty of dance bars and discos. I have one in midtown called the Red Circle, I bought it a few years back and implemented a 'Papparazzi will be vaporized' rule right away. It's kept the riff-raff out so far. And of course there's the Hellfire Club, but if you don't have a membership already, it's very difficult to get in."

Brian Braddock has posed:
Mentally assigning himself a 'strike two' in this conversation, Brian retreats into his cup of tea as coverage for his own rearranging of features. Whoops. Over again, Brian has to fight down his own prickling of indignation at the sensation of a sleight when his sister is brought up. It shows in the here-and-gone appearance of fine lines at the corners of his blue eyes.

Still, determined to tabulate an eventual total positive out of the socializing, he doggedly pays attention to Janet's information about the local clubs -- and doesn't manage to stop his little blink of surprise at her naming one in particular.

"I'll have to stop by the Red Circle then if it's free of the scourge of paparazzi," he decides, his smile full of empathy about the stalkers and their cameras. "And stop by the Hellfire Club as well. My father held position within it. It seems correct to claim my family right, if for the sake of the family, of course, and reintroduce myself."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet perks a little at that last, giving Brian a momentary refund on his social credit. "Really? I wouldn't have guessed," Janet admits. "I mean--" she blinks and quirks her lips as she checks her misstep. "Not that your family doesn't have the cache. I suppose I just didn't expect you to be an enthusiastic clubgoer."

Her eyes flicker thoughtfully. "I should say the Circle's very much a social club. And between us, it's really just a tax-deductible way I can party with my friends all on one place," she clarifies. "The Hellfire Club is very posh but I've always felt the forward-facing society was a little staid."

Gone deliberately unmentioned is the members-only areas, which are another thing altogether. Janet resettles herself with that effortless social grace and flashes a smile at Brian that's less luminescent but more of an earnest attempt to be cordial, and reaches over to touch his wrist with two fingertips. "It would be a pleasure to introduce you around the Circle," she assures him. "The VIP area is exclusively the best and most fashionable people in New York. I'd be happy to invite you around."

Brian Braddock has posed:
Yet another sip of the tea covers a twitch of rueful acceptance. Nonetheless, he nods at the idea of the Hellfire Club and its public face.

"Entirely understandable," Brian murmurs...but about what? Expectations? The proposed starchiness of those not within the Circle itself? Janet reaches out and the man's blue eyes drop to the fingers before focusing on her face once more, his brows lifted. "I'll take you up on your offer, Miss van Dyne, when I find my way to the Club. I was younger when my father first introduced me to the Circle and no doubt names have changed since I set foot within the members-only sphere. It'll be an interesting change of pace and scene."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet touches her tongue to her upper lip and fails to hide an amused smile. "I haven't been to the London Club, but if it's anything like our New York branch, I'd be cautious about wandering carelessly into the back rooms," she advises Brian in a delicately offhand tone.

It seems she's not going to do more than broach that topic for now, lest she prickle some unknown British sensibility. Her weight also shifts minutely back towards Brian away from the neutral position. "I understand there's a pretty sizeable expat community living here in New York, too," she ventures a moment later. "The West Village and Upper East Side are where a lot of them end up. Boerum Hill isn't bad either. It's not terribly far from our corporate headquarters," she adds. "If you wanted to stop in and seee how the proverbial doughnuts are made."

Brian Braddock has posed:
Taking it upon himself to pour more of the tea still kept appropriately hot upon the wheeled tray, Brian seems to find his own amusement in Janet's statement about the back rooms of the Club. It brings a twinkle in and out of his gaze; those fine lines of earlier now accent rather than detract.

Steam rises, perfuming the air, and the man has enough experience to continue addressing his newly-refilled cup while looking over at the fashionista. "I've heard quite a bit about the West Village and Upper East Side, yes, and it was on my agenda. I do like a walk-about when the weather's nice. It's rare in England and we take advantage of it as we can. Since your headquarters are in the same locale, why not? I'll drop in again."

The sugar-spoon clinks as he stirs and when he taps it off carefully.

"As to the back rooms...I believe in an appropriate amount of caution until it becomes unnecessary. Carelessness is sloppy. Deliberation...another thing entirely." Now his smile is almost cat-in-the-cream, neatly removing all sense of bookish innocence in one sweep. "//Fais ce que tu voudras//, I believe the saying goes." His French is flawless if continentally-trained. Tea, sipped, and earlier's insinuating smile gone. "Mmm. Still very good, Miss van Dyne."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Hacer que quieres, as they say in East Harlem," Janet remarks in a Bronx-inflected Spanish, and the amusement in her eyes dances with merry amusement. It's a tossup if she's intrigued by Brian's prospects or just amused by the idea the Brit is perhaps going to get in over his head.

"I'd love to do a guided tour but I'm afraid I have to get back to the grind," Janet says, and sets her tea and saucer aside before rising with that casual grace. Whereas she was more on the side of youthful slenderness a few years ago, Janet's clearly grown into a woman who takes her exercise and fitness very seriously. She offers her hand to Brian at the right moment and gives his fingers a squeeze. "Do give me a call ahead of time when you go to Brooklyn and I'll see if I can clear my schedule some," she promises him. "Hopefully I won't be in negotiations with a bunch of pompous Turks with overpriced fabric rolls next time," she adds, and adds an eloquent roll of her eyes.

Brian Braddock has posed:
Ambient light gleams from the surface of the steaming tea as Brian lifts it from his saucer in salute to the woman's remark; he adds the necessary spoken, "Cheers." to go along with his bright flash of a smile.

Sensing an impatience to return to her work within her words, the gentleman finishes the rest of the volume of his cup in a smooth, well-practiced motion. It doesn't appear to be 'bolting' even if it might qualify as such. The saucer and cup set aside, he rises when she does. Palms habitually straighten his jacket upon his frame. When Janet offers her hand? It's taken and the squeeze returned.

"Hopefully the sartorial gods will spare you the difficulty," he agrees. "Do look for my number to appear on your phone. I'll leave a message if you're unable to take the call." It's a pronounced bend with his height, but Brian leans down to offer a kiss at each perfectly-rouged cheek. In his retreating wake of straightening, the scent of black tea along with an understated cologne sporting notes of juniper, ambergris, and leather.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet tilts her cheek up and rises *just* a bit higher on her toes to accommodate the strapping Brit, and even rests a fingertip on his bicep to steal just a little balance. When he straightens she rocks back to her stilettos and loosely interlaces her fingers in front of her thighs. "It's always a pleasure to spend time with a gentleman," Janet informs Brian, and primes him to move to the doors with a subtle twitch of her shoulders. After all, a door is held for a woman because she *expects* it to be held for her, and Janet's a past-master at those subtle prods. She bids Brian one last farewell at the midpoint of the shop, and watches him take his leave before she turns in place and starts up the stairs to her offices on the topmost floor.