765/Silk for the Ghost Spider

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Silk for the Ghost Spider
Date of Scene: 26 March 2020
Location: Van Dyne studios, NYC
Synopsis: Gwen Stacy approaches Janet van Dyne about getting a new costume made to replace the one she lost during the multiverse shuffle.
Cast of Characters: Janet van Dyne, Gwen Stacy




Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet's office is split down the middle so cleanly that it looks like two images joined together. The building must have been a warehouse in the distant past, and Janet's offices are on the uppermost of the five floors. On the north side of the office, it's all austere white with cool accents of cyan and gold. Desk, minimalist computer, calendar, a few pieces of Greek-styled statuary. It's meant to be a place of relaxed focus with no distractions and a clear emphasis on business.

On the south side, however, where the light is best, the tile gives way to sealed concrete and a riot of colored fabric. Yards of cloth on spindles, mannequins with half-finished ideas pinned to them, and an oversized drafting desk colored in blotches of ink and paint and charcoal. A modelling platform with six angled mirrors around a dais is tucked against the other corner.

It's here Janet is working, leaning over her desk and rapidly sketching with a charcoal stick in her right hand. A dress of gold with bronze backing drapes from her shoulders, leaving her arms and back exposed, and a belt of gold links is joined around her hips to match the jewelry at her ears and wrist, and the pendant around her neck. She seems quite deep in the zone, working with brow furrowed in concentration.

Gwen Stacy has posed:
How does one even get an appointment when Janet Van Dyne, /really/? Gwen Stacy is no Betsy Braddock or... gosh who else is a model anyways? Surely there's more than one right? Regardless, Gwen is... just Gwen. A college student who /might/ be a model? Reality twisting magic is so confusing...

In her head she's definitely not.

But she does know Janet. At least she /knew/ Janet. Back on her Universe, she was actually friends with her, but that has proven to be quite ineffective in the course of events since she got here, and even /less/ so now that she's sync'd up with this current version of herself.

For starters, her blonde hair is a whole lot longer and a whole lot less shaved with no pink tips... and she's standing on the roof of an adjacent building in a pair of yoga pants with a black hoodie and bandana across her mouth. "Okay... this isn't weird at all.. Hey Janet Van Dyne, I'm from a different un-" Gwen kicks herself for the sixth time when she's just about to leap across the distance to Janet's window where she can very clearly see the artist hard at work.

"Even lost my webshooters.. Should have /really/ thought this whole thing through."

Okay.. "Okay, I'm going... I'm going... I'm going..." A few steps back and she runs towards the edge of the building, leaping out over the distance towards Janet's office. A tiny black smudge against the skyline about to bug splat against her window, "Such a bad idea.."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
*WHAM!*

Janet shrieks in surprise and leaps backwards with a startled expression at the impact to the window. Her charcoals go flying and leave a slashing black mark on the current work in progress in her haste to get clear.

For most people they might fall on their butt or trip, particularly in those designer heels. Instead, she vanishes with a *puft* of displaced air.

A few seconds later she materializes two yards away, giving Gwen a suspicious look. Athletic shoulders are tensed and her weight's spread evenly over both feet, ready to react in a second if Gwen just decides to crash on through the thin pane of glass. Weatherproof yes, but hardly Gwen-proof! "Who are you and why are you hammering on my fudging windows?" she demands.

Only she didn't say fudge.

Gwen Stacy has posed:
Scampering is the order of the evening when Gwen hits the window with a lot more forward velocity than she had specifically intended, but it's hard to judge that kind of thing by eyeball... Actually it's not, usually she can do it those figures in her head, but there might be a little anxiety involved too...

For a plethora of reasons.

Then Janet's disappearing and reappearing (or something that looks a lot like those two things anyways!) right infront of her... and definitely not saying fudge.

"H-...hey..." Waving a black hand where she's stuck against said glass by one hand and both toes. "I uh.. guess this isn't how you make an appointment... I was going to try and do that bu- can you hear me?" Pointing at her own ear, then through the glass at Janet.

She even flaps her fingers to pantomime talking, "It would be really weird if I'm just hanging out over here talking to myself on the side of building..."

"WEIRDER... this was already a pretty weird situation, et al."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet makes a few slashing motions near her throat and walks over to one of the windows. Instead of pushing open the larger pane, the smaller one's adjusted open a crack. Another flickering disappearance and Janet's standing on the ledge outside the window with one foot on the sill, one hand holding the window itself, and a fearless disregard for the five-story drop below.

"Is there a -reason- you're hammering on my window? I have a secretary for appointments," Janet informs Gwen with a grimace and a scowl of rebuke. "And I'm right in the middle of something, so I hope the next words out of your mouth are 'It's an emergency' or 'I brought you eclaires from Salieri's'," she informs Gwen with a crisp tone of authority.

Gwen Stacy has posed:
This is how it played out before, but by this point there was already cocoa.

Score one for Alternate Universes being completely unfair.

Gwen stammers when Janet shrinky shifts over to the sill and slides down off the window into a crouch, standing to ... lean against the window. Then she thinks better of it and crosses her arms, then just lets them hang down at her sides.

"I should have made an apointment... I'm really sorry I didn't. I'm still getting use to..." Big blue eyes squint at Janet, then looks down at her very fabulous shoes. "It /isn't/ an emergency.. not really. I could have waited, but I didn't have anyone else I could come to. Which probably sounds /really/ strange to you, but I promise that if you give me a few minutes to explain, you'll either have me arrested for being a crazy person or understand completely."

Her hood turns towards the window.. and the black smudge through whatever it was Janet was working on.. "I'm really sorry. I-... blehhh... I'm Gwen.. Ghost Spider.. and I /was/ kind of, maaaaaybe, a little bit from an alternate universe."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet makes a sour face and looks out onto the city. "Three minutes," she concludes, and holds the last three fingers aloft at Gwen. "If you're looking for me to fix it, I can't," she warns Gwen, and then disappears inside again. A second later the larger window opens to admit the blonde girl into the office, and Janet stands there with her arms folded loosely across her stomach and her weight balanced over her left foot. Her face is a struggle towards politeness that mostly lands in the area of being 'neutral, but inconvenienced'.

"But if you're just looking to find Hank, I can get you his phone number," she offers, and heads towards the sitting area in the corner of the room. After a few steps, she looks back at Gwen, then with an exasperated roll of her eyes makes a 'come along' gesture with a tilt of her head. "C'mon in and come sit, then. What's your name? Gwenster?" she hazards. She didn't quite catch it. "C'mon sit, then." She sits down in one of the chairs and crosses her legs with all the poise of someone attending a meeting of the board members and invites Gwen to find a chair for herself. "So what do you need from me?"

Gwen Stacy has posed:
"Fix it?" Gwen sounds puzzled, which is convenient for Janet to go diving back in the window and open it for her to actually make it inside... One hurdle crossed, the small blonde steps inside easily and reaches up to push the hood back off her blonde hair pulled into the messiest of buns at the back of her skull. "Gosh, no.. It's been fixed, I think... it's been made even more complicated, really, but I think what's done is done."

Murmuring, following the designer with a turn of her head as she makes her way through her office... at least until she's invited to sit. She slumps down into said seat with her hands dangling between her knees, clasped together. "I don't need Hank, no. I just.. Okay, so a couple months ago I was.. long story short.. sent here. But the me here had died in December, so I've been hiding wherever someone will let me." Which leads to... "I met a magicians, a sorceress, and she.. found something. Some thing-a-mah jig of magic that use to be the empty seat at King Arthurs table.

"Three days ago, we went to Australia and found it. She was suppose to be sending me home, but... I think it screwed up the universe or something... because now Gwen Stacy //isn't// dead, and I'm still here... Which is neat, and all, so totally not the part I came to get your help with!" Hands up, patting the air.

"But like... I lost.. my.. okay so on my universe right? You helped me design my webshooters and costume.. And we were friends... and this is nuts... I shouldn't be here. I'm sorry."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Quit apologizing," Janet advises Gwen, a little testily. "I hate it when people scrape over themselves like that. It's not your fault you're here. It's inconvenient for /me/," she concedes, "but that's my lot in life, apparently."

A controlled exhalation of breath flares Janet's nostrils and she carefully maneuvers her immaculate bangs with a pinkie nail. "Okay, so I didn't follow most of that, but I get the whole 'oopsie-alternate-universe-blah-blah' thing. It happens in this line of work."

A tongue probes her teeth and Janet inhales around it, eyes narrowing slightly at Gwen. It's a thoughtful expression, less a critical one. "Okay. So you're not trying to get back to ... wherever, for whatever reason," Janet summarizes. "And you're from here, or stuck here, or staying here. So what, you're just... looking for a costume hookup?" Her brows life minutely. "See, if you'd just said 'I have a fashion emergency' from the getgo, we could have skipped this whole thing," she informs Gwen.

Gwen Stacy has posed:
Gwen opens her mouth, very clearly about to apologize again, but thinks wiser of it. "You know, you're every bit as intimidating regardless of where I've met you?" She says with a much easier grin, shuffling her shoulders forward to try and relax some. "It's not like that though... Okay, so it's /kind of/ like that, but not entirely like that."

Also really weird to explain.

"I /am/ having a fashion emergency.. look at this hair!" Flipping her fingers back through the stiff bangs and loose curls, "Which isn't something I can't fix, but the costume is a problem a little outside my scope. Really though.. like deep down in the pit of it... I'm realizing if I'm stuck here, which I think I am, I have to start reconnecting all the links I've lost."

So she motions around.

"While fixing my fashion emergency." Because that's also important.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet takes a deep breath, and when it comes out, it's an exhalation of sympathy. "Okay. Well, that part I can help with at least," Janet reassures Gwen. The praise definitely doesn't seem to be hurting Gwen's case at all. "Can't have you going around derring-do-good in jeans and a T-shirt," she observes.

"So you're going as... Spider-Ghost, right?" She frowns thoughtfully. "You know there's that Spider-Man running around Queens," she informs Gwen. "I haven't met him personally but he's probably someone you ought to talk to. Branding's very important."

Janet gets to her feet and moves to a low cabinet that proves to be a minibar; she starts fixing herself a drink, and looks over her shoulder at Gwen. "Want something?" she offers, and returns to the task at hand.

"So I guess I'm some hotshot engineer in ... wherever you're from, but I have literally no idea how to make webshooters. The costume design, though, I can do. I've even got the new hotness from Baxter Industries and Stark, variations of unstable molecules and adaptive clothing options. What precisely are you looking for?":

Gwen Stacy has posed:
There was a question Gwen didn't miss, but was rambling too much to answer, "OH! Ghost Spider.. and I'm Gwen. Stacy. Gwen Stacy." Putting them together with no breath in the middle like a proper adult. Grinning at the idea of her swinging around in jeans and a t-shirt, "I was thinking hoodie and yoga pants, but still not flattering or very flashy.."

Slipping off the stool, she follows, but shakes her head.. "Wait, do you hav a diet coke? I'd love a diet coke." Refreshments out of the way, "Oh, yeah, Spider-Man. I know him.. we're friends. In both universes, which is nice. I should probably talk to him... see if he forgot..." Details unimportant. Focus.

"uh, well, you're pretty accomplished, yeah. A lot like here, really. You didn't design the webshooters, I did, but you helped me build them. It was more moral support and resources than technical know-how, but the /costume/ was all you." Fishing around in her pockets, she comes out with a folded sketch book page, which she holds out to Janet.

"I'm not a great artist, but I did the best I could.."

https://tinyurl.com/r4ey763

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet pours a few drams of rum into a highball over ice, muddles some mint, and hands the drink to Gwen. "Diet cubra libre," she declares, and returns to her seat with a mojito for herself in hand. One leg curls under her thigh and Janet sits again, barely resting her lower back against the chair behind her.

The sketch is examined with a frown and Janet makes a few fast comparisons between the pencil work and the lean blonde girl seated across from her. "Well, it's not bad," she admits, grudgingly. "And the blue's a nice touch, though I wouldn't normally put someone's shoes in that shade of cyan. But it works with the pink and black."

"I can make this," she affirms, and sets the sketch aside. "Do you have a job, here? Place to stay? Unstable molecules and FlexHex fabric isn't exactly cheap," she advises Gwen. "I'm thrilled we were friends in some other life but giving away fifty grand worth of material to a total stranger has a way of dinging my profit margins. I'd feel better if I knew you were established somehow. Even if it's just with a utilities bill."

Gwen Stacy has posed:
It isn't the first time Gwen's been handed an alcoholic beverage.. She went to High school in the 2010s, she's been around a bottle of vodka once or twice, but it is the first time she's been handled an alcoholic beverage that has a classy name. And probably COSTS just as classy besides. She balances it easily in her hand and returns to her seat, folding both legs beneath her as if she herself were made out of bendy material.. daring to take a sip of said beverage when Janet enlightens her on precisely how much said costume will be worth.

Half a mouthful of rum partially down her gullet and she snorts, firing it right back out her nose, coughing into her palm flung up to cover her mouth and chin. "What? Holy.. whoa.. I didn't think we were /that/ god of friends..." Blue eyes wide enough to use as saucers for her highball.

"..Yeah.. I.. I'm in college.." Still dabbing at her nose and face with the sleeve of her hoodie. Deep coughing to clear the high concentration of burning death from her sinus, "Sorry.." Where was she.. "Oh, I have an internship at OsCorps genetics division... but I'm not making fifty grand anytime soon... it's an unpaid internship."

Finally not searing pain down her entire airway, "I live with someone, yeah.. either my dad or Zatanna Zatara.. She's the reason I'm not dead. Why Gwen isn't dead and why I'm here... and she, Other Gwen from here, is somewhere.. hopefully still not dead, but who even knows... This is easily the strangest thing that's ever happened to me in my eighteen years and have super powers."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"I'm not saying 'pay for it'," Janet clarifies with a flickering of immaculately manicured nails. The french tips catch the sunlight and wrap around her glass again. "I'm saying that I don't want you to take it and run off with it to some competitor or another lab and sell it to them for quick cash," she explains.

A smile curls at her lips. "And don't worry about 'strange'. I've been with the Avengers for a couple years now. We see our share of it. Before -that- I was dashing around the world on my ex's apron strings, with a bunch of radical genetic therapy under my belt and using dangerous shrinking technology for kicks. I do strange pretty much once a week. This is like a .... two. Out of ten."

"Anyway. Gwen ... Stacy, you said?" Janet asks, and rises to move to her desk. She picks up her phone and texts out a fast text message with her thumb flying over the pad one-handed. "I know Zatanna-- not personally, I know the name-- she's down in... Gotham, right? So if you're not living with your girlfriend you've got a permanent residence here in New York, or the area?" she hazards.

Gwen Stacy has posed:
"Oh... well that's good.. I - uh.. I'd try to pay for it, but..." That's a lot of dollar bills and most of her schooling.. at least undergrade anyways. That was a looming shadow, certainly making her wish the whole altered dimensional hoopla had left her a special suitcase with her costume inside. "Well, I wont.. obviously.. maybe.. I guess it's not obvious, you still don't know me, but I wont do that."

Shaking her head, she scoots towards the edge of her chair after another attempt at drinking the highball. It goes a great deal better this time, even with a curveball mention of 'girlfriend', she doesn't flinch, "Yes, my dad is Captain George Stacy with the New York City Police Department.. not that you know who that is, or that it means I'm not some bad seed, but.. he has an apartment in Brooklyn... I don't know if he sold our house in Queens or not.. you don't really care about all that do you?" Tugging at her sleeves to pull them up halfway on her forearms.

"I can't imagine.. all that Avenger stuff, I mean.. I saw the articles about the invasion... There wasn't anything like that back in my universe. Just a government agency that policed all the super heroing and.. well... me... And you, but you'd retired."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"I'm doing a background check on you," Janet clarifies, and finishes sending the text. The phone's cradled loosely in her fingers and she moves back to the chairs to sit again, folding one leg under her to sit on her calf with a lazy comfort.

"Don't worry," she adds, a second later. "I'm pretty particular about who I hire on staff. Joel has NSA clearances; he knows how to keep a secret, and given how much time I spend around SHIELD, it's kind of indispensible to have someone who has the clearance to keep track of my schedule and meeting notes."

With another sip of her drink, Janet regards Gwen with an interested expression. "So no Avengers, and I'm... old and retired?" Janet's nose wrinkles. "Glad I at least have some friends still. I'm probably still married to Hank, then," she says, with a displeased expression. "He hated having me along on his little missions."

Gwen Stacy has posed:
"..Oh.." Gwen blinks a few times at the cavalier explanation of her background check in progress, "You think I could get a print out of that? I'm still figuring everything out myself... and trying to peice together someones life story from social media is surprisingly complicated, but it's better than if we had this conversation in december.." Fidgeting in her seat, watching Janet rejoin and retake her chair. "Gwen died.. and that was kind of heavy. Being dead.. and all..."

So that's a bonus. Not dead.

Go team.

"Sure, yeah, hey no worries.. You have to look after your investiment of multi dozens of thousands of dollars..." Murmuring, looking down at her hands folded in her lap. "Old? Hah, no, not you.." She lies, bad, but in her defense, twenty six is pretty old at 18. "-just retired. SHIELD put the clamp down on all super hero business and you just.. well.." Motioning around, "You did this. ... still married to Hank though." Nodding at that part, "I never met him, he was always off doing some crazy nonsense."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"That's crazy. I can't imagine them pulling a power move like that here," Janet murmurs. "SHIELD, I mean, shutting down capes?" She just shakes her head and takes a long sip of her drink. "Well, at least I'm pretty consistent from universe to universe. Even if I'm stupid enough to stay married to Hank," she says. Though that last bit is muttered more than said firmly aloud.

"Anyway. Yeah, I don't mind helping you out," Janet tells Gwen. "I'm assuming you're still staying incognito here, I mean, given the mask and stuff," she remarks, and taps a nail on the sketchpad. "I can get you a basic suit next week, though. We'll do it out of nomex and kevlar. It's not as durable as the expensive stuff, but it's flash resistant and will slow down knives a bit," Janet offers. "And before you ask, I'm not gonna bill you for it," she reassures Gwen. "It's my little share of helping the metahuman community out. Just don't do something that makes me regret it, okay?" she says, though her tone makes it more point than mere suggestion.

Gwen Stacy has posed:
"I was petty surprised by how many capes there /were/ here... Enough to make /entire teams/... That's crazy." Gwen shakes her head, eyes wide as saucers, "They could definitely use one or two more back h-.. uh.. where I came from." Because it's not home anymore. Here is. Which is weird. Wisely opting not to enquire, while Janet's being so accomodating, about Hank.. All she knows is the stuff everyone knows.

Smart dude. Builds stuff.

"That's really great of you.. I know it was a lot, me just coming here and.." Flicking a hand out at the window expressively, then down at herself, "I'm just glad you didn't cuff my ear or something. I was expecting it, nice sharp twist and young ladies here and little miss there... I'd have deserved it, though." She doesn't say the thing about hoping she doesn't have to pay for it, even if she /wants/ to pay for it. "I wont. Besides, I'm actually trying to establish some branding. Which is why I came to the best instead of making it myself.. If you want to set yourself apart, you don't dip in the same tired well as the other guy."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet grins with a flash of teeth. "Young lady? I /did/ get old," she remarks drolly. "I only grab ears on people bigger than me anyway," she informs Gwen. The drink's polished off and set aside, presumably for someone else to tidy up later.

"But it sounds like you've internalized the right lesson since you're talking to me about brand recognition and not body armor. Steve sounds like a broken record somedays," she says with an eyeroll. "Not that I couldn't make body armor gorgeous, but he likes cosplaying as a tank, I guess. Anyway-- I have to get back to work," Janet informs Gwen, and clasps her hands loosely in front of her. "Do me a favor, swing by my assistant's desk before you jump out of here. Make sure he's got a good number to contact you, and we'll do what we can to get you set up. If you need cash for... food, or incidentals, or anything like that, just mention it. I don't know what your situation is with Zatanna or your dad but I imagine they're as jarred by everything as you are."

Gwen Stacy has posed:
"I can't imagine Captain Rogers sounding like a broken record..." Again, she lies.. Gwen is a lot of things, but a good liar isn't one of them. She has all the tells, every single one someone can have, she's got it. "They use to show his videos in my gym class.. these old black and white educational reels... which where extremely out dated and... fun.." Big grin, do not insult the pretty, scary ladies boyfriend. "But no, you never had to twist /my/ ear, but I never gave you a reason either!"

Another grin, reaching out to polish off the drink, just so as not to leave a full glass sitting there. She manages not to gag or shiver as it's going down her throat. "Thanks for the drink, and also for not throwing me out on my butt.." One of her legs, then the other unfolds to push her up from the chair. "I, yeah.. is it okay if I take the stairs?" Pointing this... then that way.. then at the exit, "I guess I could climb down, but, it's more civilized this way and I already splot against the window once tonight."

She shakes her head at the offer of dollars, "Thank you again, Ms. Van Dyne." Bouncing, practically bubbling over really, with joy as she makes her way out in a more human manner than climb down the sheer face of a building.