Owner	Pose
Janet van Dyne	The GIRL Expo is right around the corner. It will be a landmark event, a science expo showcasing the work of young women from around the country. Nadia's tireless efforts have brought together many brilliant young scientists, inventors, tinkerers and researchers who had their gifts ignored or pushed aside to serve the interest of other people. For Janet, the logistics of coordinating a major exposition aren't unfamiliar. There is a tremendous amount of work that goes into making sure it all hits the ground running, on time, on the right day, with full speed. This also means ensuring that everyone's dressed correctly. Embroidered labcoats were easy; getting the army of young women set up with gala-appropriate clothing for the cocktail party, though, is a different kettle of fish entirely! So Janet's come home early, lingering in the small landing just inside the penthouse doors and stopping only to kick off her designer heels. She pads up the carpeted stairs barefoot and sets them down again once she's in the large living room, proper. Janet glances at the wall clock. "Wow, I cut that close," she mutters to herself. Sue will be arriving any moment to look over some options Janet came up with and do a final fitting. The socialite's got enough time to go to the bar and pour herself a drink at least before THE Susan Storm-Richards arrives. No one would ever catch Janet fawning at anyone, but she'd be lying if she said it wasn't still a little fangirling thrill to have Susan over for a drink!
Susan Richards	Susan's cutting it close herself, or at least, close enough she can't help but think 'What am I, Reed?' as her car's pulling in... sure, she's still technically five minutes early, but that's practically the same as being several hours late because an experiment was too engrossing to let go, isn't it? Sue has, if anything, gotten used to running the Fantastic Four's business, it's quite literally become a well-oiled machine, practically a self-sufficient array of layers of responsibility and automation that really mean Mrs. Storm-Richards spends most of her days clicking through emails, sending out canned responses, and pining for some sort of alien invasion. Or the gala event of the year being run by the next generation of brilliant young women. That's certainly more than worthy of skipping out on work for, for both legitimate and selfish reasons. And so as Janet's pouring herself a drink, Sue's knocking on the door, dressed for all intents and purposes like she's some sort of Cold War spy in a long tan coat and broad brimmed hat, collar turned up to practically hide her cheeks. She steps back from the door to flash a winning smile to the camera or peephole, because she _knows_ it's patently ridiculous to be in this getup.... but it's cold out, and the thrill of making people think an empty car is driving itself wears off after awhile, and she's got to do _something_ to keep herself entertained. Well, before meeting up with Janet, which is always entertaining in its own right.
Janet van Dyne	"<Greetings, Miss Richards.>" The virtual intelligence that runs Janet's smarthome manages to sound androgynous *and* bored. The greeting isn't over before Janet's yelling "IT'S OPEN!" from the other side of the door. It *clicks* obligingly and swings open to the landing, and the stairs directly ahead of Sue that lead upstairs. Janet turns to see Sue walk in and flashes a beaming smile at her. "Sue! Great timing, I just walked in. I'm just having a drink. You want one? Or a toot of something?" she offers. Janet's liquor bar is better stocked than some professional bars. The fashionista's wearing a sleeveless black dress with a button front and a starched collar. It'd be almost modest if it wasn't for the close-fitting tailoring and the borderline-indecent hem. A bright-red patent leather belt hangs low on her hips and coordinates with a number of carefully-selected pieces of carmine jewelry with rubies set to them, on her wrist and earlobes.
Susan Richards	Sue resists the urge to apologize for interrupting the virtual intelligence... it can't _actually_ be playing a game of solitaire she's interrupting to earn that tone, can it? Oh, Susan so wants to inquire... well, part of her does. It's the other part that flings the door open and breezes in, long coat being undone on the move, revealing a pale blue knit turtleneck underneath that clings not quite so jealously as that iconic bodysuit, and a pair of cream coloured slacks that may very well have just been the first thing Susan grabbed. Why dress up to get dressed up after all? Nothing she spent the effort painstakingly picking out would rival her friend's impending design. No, instead Sue just takes in her friend's fashion, hips cocking, arms crossing, and whistles out softly, "Well! This is a sight I haven't been getting nearly enough of! And I think it's traditional to have at least a _little_ something before a big event. What're you having?" Eyebrows perk and she hums softly, "But I think I'll skip the... toot of something. At least until after the opening speeches tonight! There's pre-partying, and then there's going overboard! I'm out of practice! I'm not going to go on a marathon right off the hop! ...So to speak."
Janet van Dyne	Janet looks at Sue and her lips pull in different directions, with a sympathetic moue. "Urf. You're right, of course," Janet says, holding hands aloft near her shoulders. "Gotta pace yourself. But I am a strong believer in pre-gaming so you go in with a better idea of how long you're gonna be around." Janet cracks open a bottle of Champagne, pours it into two flutes, and adds orange juice to them both. She walks over to Sue and offers one to her friend, and then extends her free arm to add a hug to the mix as well. "You look great. I love the turtleneck, that is -so- on brand. I've got a few options for you," she promises Sue. Her shoulders wiggle back and forth with an eager excitemeent that goes along with her impish grin. "You ready for a little fashion show?"
Susan Richards	Susan laughs softly and rolls her eyes, "Well, I wasn't really thinking this was going to be the sort of event where I need to worry about pacing. It's a gala, yes, but it's a gala for a science exhibition by the finest young women on the planet, it's not the sort of gala one attends at other local clubs!" She sighs as she takes the offered drink, sipping gratefully as she leans into that hug to return it and murmur dryly, "I mean, I rather figured drinks like this would be of the average. I don't think the evening's going to end with raucous table dancing or anything of the like. At most? Invasion of evil robots, that sort of out of handedness, hm?" She pulls back from the hug with an even wider grin and nods her head, "Yes, well, it's a very careful brand to manage! I can't be indulging every little whim that an impending mid-life crisis throws into my head. So turtlenecks and school teacher chic have been the name of the game so far this year." She sighs and pops her eyebrows up at tht wiggling, "But then, that's why I'm here! Because I wouldn't trust anyone else to change that up and wow me all at once like you. I am in your hands, Ms. van Dyne!"
Janet van Dyne	Janet laughs merrily, lifting a free hand to her mouth and tittering at Susan's boisterous statements. "Well I make no promises about table dancing, but it's not the Hellfire Club. I'm gonna at least -try- to behave. At least until we cart the media off the premises." She hipchecks Susan gently and gives her wrist a few encouraging tugs towards her design studio, down the hall and around a corner. The rest of Janet's house is impeccably tidy, clean, and rendered all in soft and comforting earth tones-- mahogany, creme, blackened leather. The design studio, in contrast, is an explosion of colors and incomplete projects. Painting supplies, sewing equipment, some modelling clay, sketchbooks-- Janet plows into the mess and pulls out a mannequin that looks as if it's made of a great deal of dark coathanger wire. A dress is extracted from the closet and she tugs it onto the dummy. "So, options about. Here's the first one. Load Measurements, Susan Richards," Janet says to the mannequin. The dummy vibrates and abruptly expands until it looks like a wireframe version of Sue. The dress is in Fantastic Four blue, sleek and lightweight. It clings around the midsection and bundles above the left hip, creating an asymmetric drape over the right leg. A floral lace pattern is embroidered on the core and climbs up an illusion neckline that joins demisleeves that would reach the elbow. "Very simple, tasteful, understated," Janet tells Sue, plucking at the garment so it sits Just So on the display dummy. "Satin's a great option. The dress breathes well and it'll catch the light but not sparkle," she explains, and looks to Sue to gauge her reaction.
Susan Richards	Sue sighs and shakes her head, "Yes, _please_ do try to wait until the media heads off before you go wild... and make sure I'm around! For damage control of course." She nods solemnly, even as she returns that hipcheck and falls into step smoothly, eyes darting about to take in the sights and style and just generally enjoy the thrill of _not_ being out of the Baxter building to deal with space aliens or tears in reality or anything so dire for once. Although she's tempted to remark that portions of the design studio look like one or both of those events have transpired recently. Eyebrows rise and mouth falls open in the wake of another sip of her drink as the mannquein pulls off its best Susan Richards impression. Head tilts to one side, eyes narrow... well, it's a good impression. And hey, it means her regular workout routine is paying off! Sue's reaction is pretty easy to read, given the way her eyes widen, her lips fighting to simply split into a grin, and not a _giant_ grin as she nods smoothly, murmuring out, "That's... well, tasteful and understated does seem like the way to go. But then again, anything you come up with is going to be stunning." Eyes narrow, head tilts the other way and she grins playfully, "But something tells me you've got more than one design in mind! And we've got enough time to peek at one more, riiiiight?"
Janet van Dyne	"Well, I'm paying for the show, so I think the rule is that it starts when I get there," Janet tells Sue. She flashes another cheeky grin, takes a fast swig of her mimosa and sets it aside again. The mannequin spools down so she can take the dress off and hang it from the outside of the closet. "See-- this gala won't be the usual New England cocktail reception," she points out. "None of the exhibitors are even old enough to rent a car. Nadia can't even drink. So this isn't about you know, impressing the dowagers and old biddies at the Met with your sense of conservative fashion," she explains. Another dress is dug out of the closet and put in place while she talks. "So I say if you're going to be out there with all these girls--" it's a little funny to hear Janet talk that way, being all of ten years older than her adopted daughter-- "I say, make sure everyone gets the message that middle age doesn't mean an end to hotness." "Reload profile," she cues the mannequin, and the self-articulating dummy once against expands to fit Sue's measurements. It's a sleeveless sheathe dress in glittering grey, the hem stopping just above the knee. The halter-style neck ties criss-cross twice over what would be an exposed mid-back. Janet adjusts the dummy back and forth to catch the light; once she's got it, she grins at Sue and makes a last adjustment. The silk gains a subtle new luster, and the otherwise unornamented design is interrupted by a sparkling silver circle over the sternum with a '4' cut out from clavicle to mid-sternum. "Dupion silk," she explains. "The black specks come from the silkworm cocoons. It makes it shimmer without being like, over-shiny." She bites her lower lip, half holding back a cheeky grin and half anxious to see what Sue thinks of the more daring design!
Susan Richards	Sue snorts out softly and grins crookedly, "Hey, careful there, I'm _far_ too near to joining the ranks of the dowagers and biddies. Every day the inevitable weighs on me further." She manages not to burst into laughter, or even a derisive snort by sipping her mimosa and instead simply pacing to the side to give herself a new angle on the mannequin as she murmurs out, "Oh! So the bar should have a short line. Well, that will be a change of pace from most galas." She snickers softly and murmurs out, "And I work hard enough to know I'm still hot, Ms. van Dyne! ...Or at least that skintight suits don't draw _too_ many garish tabloid articles yet." She whistles out softly and takes in the more daring cut of dress, eyes widening slightly at the exposed mid-back, the halter style neck... It's the shift in luster and sparkling silver circle and that cut out symbolt hat has her mouth falling open properly and eyebrows attempting to reach the moon, "That is..." Her eyes narrow, hips cock and she points with her free hand, "You have outdone yourself! ...See? I knew you were just using that first one to set the stage! I think a little daring is in order. I mean, if I'm going out, I might as well go _all_ out, right?" Eyebrow quirks slightly, "Well, maybe not _all_ out, after all, like you said, this isn't a Hellfire gala. But I think this will do brilliantly. You really are too good at this."
Janet van Dyne	"It's my gift, and my curse," Janet says, and even with a heavy sigh she is utterly incapable of looking remotely humble. That dimple-cheeked grin flashes into place a few seconds later and she laughs merrily again at Sue's opinion. "Sue, I hope I look half as hot as you are now when I'm /forty/," Janet reassures Sue. "You're like... the epitome of 'hot mom-ness'," she quips. "And I think the world needs to be, y'know, /reminded/ of that," she remarks, pointedly. Janet gulps down more mimosa and frowns as a thought occurs to her. "I had a joke about age being a number and that number being a '4', but I don't know if it'd land," she admits. "But, still--" she gestures again at the dress. "Oh! Shit, accessories," Janet exclaims, and dives back into the closet to fish out a repurposed tacklebox. It's cracked open to reveal what must be close to seven figures worth of jewels, neatly pinned to individual foam blocks for safekeeping. "Uh, let's see," Janet says. "I had this figured out..." Her eyes dart around in the box. "Hairbands, earrings, necklaces, torcs, rings, bangles, anklets. Grey is tricky, you either want to understate it with neutral colors or you want to come at it full bore the other direction. So I'm thinking platinum and silver with black stilettos--" a pair of suede wedge-tip heels are put on the table-- "Or you go ruby and gold, and bust these bad bitches out." Platform leather pumps with a peek-a-boo toe and ankle strap, dyed fire-engine red. "This is my loaner stuff, so if you'd rather borrow my good jewelry, I'll let you raid my closet," she offers.
Susan Richards	Sue grins crookedly and winks, "Well, one of these days I'm just going to slip 'youth serum' into one of Reed's piles of papers, you know, when hes' not busy working on something that could prevent some world-ending cataclysm or another. If only so I can cut out all the hot yoga and such. I swear, my schedule is just _too_ full." She cocks her hip and grins brightly, "But thanks for the compliment I definitely wasn't fishing for of course." And then that tackle box is opening and she leans in, eyebrows perking up as she just basks in the finery and luxury on display. Then the shoes are coming out and she's sputtering and shaking her head, "Oh, I think... uhh... understated, black stilettos are a classic and..." She eyes the fire-engine red pumps and crosses her arms over her chest, face taking on a thoughtful aspect, "And _those_ can be saved for another gala. Something that's not about the science and the hopeful future of humanity." She nods solemnly and glances sidelong with a low murmur, "Something where I'm planning to raid your closet and cause a few heart attacks? You know, a _party_ party." She snickers softly and pulls back, eying the dress, the stilettos, plucking out a little diamond and platinum choker... you know, something _classy_ as she dangles it off a fingertip, "I forgot to bring any sort of time dialating device, so if we spend eight hours in your closet, it's going to be _eight hours_ in there... next time though? Oh, you won't be prepared for next time!" It's said with all the solemn promise she might have in telling Doctor Doom his next scheme will fail.
Janet van Dyne	Janet looks sidelong at Sue at the sotto voce-- she nods understandingly, winks once, and clicks her tongue. "A -party- party. I think I gotcha," she says, and bites her lower lip to check a fast-spreading grin. "Definitely a conversation for another time." Janet helps Sue pick some things out of the box that will work as an ensemble. "Four accessories besides your shoes and your clutch, that's all you should ever have on." She takes the choker in hand, examines it for a few seconds, then casually rips the setting loose. The chain's tossed aside and Janet rests a hip on the table while reaching for some scraps of cloth and scissors. "Too little and you're underdressed. Too much bling distracts from the outfit," she says. Scissors and a sewing needle fly, and Janet holds up the modified choker-- the diamond and the setting now installed onto a piece of black silk that glimmers like moonlight on a dark lake. It's lifted towards the hollow of Sue's throat so the other woman can look at it for herself in the mirror on the wall. "Oh yeah. That's it," she cheers, and hands it to Sue. "Reed's gonna go blind. So choker, earrings, wedding rings, and one on your right hand." "I think all that's left is hair and makeup. My stylist is downstairs, she's just waiting for the call. I gotta make sure Nadia gets here on time. Worst case, my style team's already there for fashion emergencies, so we 'd just skip the red carpet rollout and sneak inside."
Susan Richards	Sue sighs out and shakes her head, "You are a _corrupting_ influence.". Surely she's not got a corrupt bone in her body herself, oh no. But there's a little nod of agreement. Another time indeed. Eyes watch as Janet gets to work, and Sue begins cataloguing world class advice. Advice she might not remember for her next gala... but that's why she drops by Janet's place! Because friends don't let friends wear too many or too few accessories, and Janet's a wonderful friend. Eyes widen as Janet works actual magic in moments, and that choker's even more spectacular for it. She drains her mimosa as she practically stares into the mirror... and resists the urge to ask it who the fairest of all is. S nods her head with a crooked grin, "Well, I'll leave myself in your stylist's capable hands! This is certainly going to be some night."