A Suit Fit For A Hellcat
Roleplaying Log: A Suit Fit For A Hellcat
IC Details

Trish meets with Jane and convinces her to make her a supersuit!

Other Characters Referenced: Jessica Jones, Daredevil, Bucky Barnes
IC Date: August 21, 2019
IC Location: New York City
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 22 Aug 2019 21:24
Rating & Warnings: PG
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

A much more laissez-faire Jane Foster of a few years ago would have received that message with more charity. Flattered, definitely, that the underground community out there enjoyed her work weaponizing the Daredevil out to commission another —

But, these days, she's not as carefree, and paranoia compounded by the darkness pursuing her recent stint in the Raft — when Jane receives that voicemail, it takes her a few days to respond because she's spending the time checking her temper. She loves Jessica like family, but she's pissed off — pissed her information was given out, even if it is to Jessica's actual family. The only moderating point was to wonder that there has to be a reason, and an important one, that Trish Walker was sent her way exactly —

The details, shaky as they are, add up with a strange sense: why does an ex-tween star need a suit? And remember how Matt looked before Jane was able to armor him properly; he wouldn't have survived the next few years —

Eventually, Jane answers, requests they meet up to chat about it (no yes is given, very specifically), and she gives a time she'll be around the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens — a long straight path where its sakura trees bloom earlier in spring.

It's an early dusk, and a recent rain has flushed out a lot of the usual tourists; standing there, dressed casually, waits Jane Foster all alone, a furrow between her eyebrows like she's bracing against a constant headache.

* * *

Happy to have even gotten a meeting, Trish Walker was very certain to not book anything on either side of her meeting with Jane. This is a meeting she wants to ensure she makes it to on time. A meeting she doesn't want to have to rush from. While she hadn't expected an outright 'yes' to be given over the phone, she, obviously, doesn't quite know all that's happened to Jane. All she knows is that Jessica gaves her this woman's number. From there? Well, calls were eventually made.

She spent a good amount of time trying to decide on what to wear. What exactly does one wear to a meeting where you're going to ask for a super suit? She decides on a leather jacket, black pants, and a dark shirt. Casual enough to not draw too much attention, but still somewhat business. She she's carrying a small purse on her, but not much more.

Approaching the spot they agreed upon to meet, Trish puts a little smile on her face. "Dr. Jane Foster?" She asks, though she already knows the answer.

* * *

Admist checking the screen of her phone, Jane glances up at the sound of her own name.

"Trish," she greets, with a candid informality; there's no hitch of guess in her expression, either — with Trish's famous face, she's easy to recognize.

Jane doesn't return the smile, but at the same time, she doesn't embody that frowny stand-offishness reminiscent of Jessica's earlier years; she's more on the serious side, and wears the physical exhaustion of someone who works a lot more than she sleeps. If she sleeps at all.

"Call me Jane, please. Nice to meet you," she continues, offering her hand to shake. "Thanks for putting up with my terms. I like to keep my work separate from… most everything else. But I can promise we can talk candidly here. No one's going to bother us."

The tiny astrophysicist-and-inventor sounds strangely certain. It might have to do with her very famous long-term boyfriend, one of the world's deadliest assassins, and probably keeping an eye on things in his own, unintrusive way.

"So, you want gear." Jane isn't one for small talk. It's an impatient, type A scientist thing. "Can you tell me why?"

* * *

It's a blessing and a curse, having such a recognizable face. It's something Trish has long come to terms with. Accepting Jane's hand, she shakes it firmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jane." She moves quickly to the first name request. "Honestly, it's me who should be thanking you." She tells the Jane. "And," she looks around, "I do like your choice of venue. Privacy is at a premium these days and, well, this seems like a wonderful place for privacy."

She takes a deep breath in, looking around and taking in the sights for just a moment. She lets out a soft sigh and just nods.

After a moment, she turns to look back at Jane, in time for the question. "Right. Gear. A suit." She rubs the back of her neck. "I'm guessing since you helped Daredevil, and you know my sister, you can probably keep secrets…not that Jessica is exactly keeping who she is or what her powers are a secret." She clears her throat. "Just, I can hope you'd understand why what I have to say, I'd rather it be kept between us, if possible."

She takes a deep breath in and continues. "I've recently…I guess you could say I'm not a metahuman." She explains. "My natural abilities, strength, agility, reflexes, endurance, and speed, have all become enhanced, better than before. As well, I uh, have telekinesis to top it off." She pauses for a moment before continuing on. "The reason for the suit? I'm hoping to…get into the same line of work as Daredevil and those like him."

* * *

"It is nice here," Jane says of this corner of Prospect Park, taking her eyes off Trish to look down the twisting path — moated with thick, well-manicured greenery on each side. This garden is well-cared for, and it shows. "I only recently found out it exists — you don't even hear the traffic this far in. The worse tourists go the Bronx instead, so it's a break."

Maybe there's some capacity for small talk from Jane. That, or she just really likes Brooklyn. She is dating an ardent Brooklynite, so it's probably rubbing off.

Holstering her hands leisurely into her coat pockets, she listens — her brown eyes tired, but clear — as Trish gives a rundown on why she's asked for this favour.

At mention of 'secrets,' Jane half-smiles like she's humouring her own private joke. "You don't get more secretive than me," she says. "There's only one person I'll tell, but he's a given. James knows everything going on in my life. Whether or not I agree to do anything, your secret's safe with me."

The rundown on abilities sparks a bit of curiousity in Jane's expression, but she restrains it back. It's a moment that requires seriousness. "That's a big jump, Trish. One you can't take back. It's a sacrifice, and I mean that in every sense of the word. The work will take something out of you that you won't ever get back. It'll endanger anyone you love, no matter how foolproof the mask is, someone will see under it. And, even if you think you've done something meaningful, it can be worth crap in the end." She's quiet a moment. "You're sure you want that?"

* * *

"It's so hard to find a place, too, where the sound of traffic can't be heard." Trish nods. "It really is nice." With a smile, she chuckles softly. "The tourists can have the Bronx. Let the rest of us keep the really nice places, like this."

Quiet for a few moments, she really weighs her options, taking into consideration Jane's take on what she wants. Sometimes it's important to have an outside voice to listen to, to tell you the things you might otherwise miss, or that you might not want to hear but have to hear. The Voice of Reason.

"A good portion of the ones I love can take care of themselves, thankfully." She thinks mostly of Jessica, though of course there's the non-metas in her life that she should probably be concerned about. She lets a breath out slowly. "This is something I need to do, Jane. I don't know if I could like with myself if, after gaining what I have, I sat back and did nothing." In truth, this is something she's wanted for a long time. Pretty much since first learning about Jessica's strength. For the most part, she's had to live vicariously through Jessica. It's why she had initially pushed Jessica to be a superhero.

She takes a large gulp of air and nods. "I want this. I'm certain I want this."

* * *

If Jane were to be honest with herself, she's not speaking out of some Kung Fu master test of dedication. She wants to scare Trish Walker off, good and hard. She doesn't regret armoring Matt Murdock, not really — because he would have found a way to keep doing his thing, and would have been hurt a lot more for doing it — but she'd have less sleepless nights. Less moments of doubt, of guilt, wondering if she enabled it all — made it so much easier for him to slide down and down into that night where he almost killed a man.

So, to put it lightly, Trish's answer is important. Very important. Jane listens, already knowing she's going to say no, when —

— Trish speaks about being unable to live with herself, having her abilities and not exercising her duty. The statement hits hard, and takes back Jane to a memory of years back, when she was telling someone as similarly skeptical why she wished to learn magic. Why it had to be her to link the universe with her theory of quantum bridges. Because it has to be me, she had said back. Because I don't trust anyone else.

It hits close to the chest, and the reserve sighs out of her.

"All right," she says, simple as that. "If you plan on being responsible. I assume Jess will be showing you — the ropes, I guess. Doing it with you?"

Jane does pause again. "I need to warn you, though — I'm hot right now. I'm both registered and recently had a mess with the Public Safety office. I've got eyes on me. If anything goes pear-shaped, it's not that difficult to link you and me. Jess testified in James's trial, after all. Just… so you know."

* * *

"I do." Deep breath. "Plan on being responsible, that is." Trish nods. "Jessica is…ensuring that I'll know the ropes." It's not a 'yes, Jess is showing me'. But it's close. "I will use caution. I intend to listen to those with more experience than myself to ensure I don't make any missteps. Or, at least, that I make as few missteps as possible." She explains.

"I'm…well, quite acquainted with Mr. Barnes' trail. James' trail. I was, uh, I was actually rooting for his freedom." Something she's not sure if Jane is aware of or not.

"Either way," she offers another smile, "I'm not worried. And I trust you. If there's anything you need to help avoid those eyes on you while making the suit, just let me know. Money's no object." She's rather quite rich, after all. "And I can pay cash, to make it less traceable if you're worried about that as well."

* * *

If there's anything in the word that can soften Jane up — much like her eyes gentle now — it's Trish reminding of her help with James Barnes.

"That's right," Jane says, her voice losing some of its impatience. Her memory, usually impeccable, still feels like a fog over those horrible months — that trial took a lot out of her. Out of James, most of all. "You were there for him. I don't think I ever got to thank you for that, either."

Even more for that point, she holds up both hands, waving off Trish's offer of remuneration. "No need, seriously. I haven't charged yet for this type of work. You just take care and help people — that's payment enough for me."

Does that mean it's a yes? Jane hasn't said anything official, but she isn't walking away, isn't warning Trish Walker to find another engineer out there willing to tangle with vigilantes. She's even smiling too, wan, in her reserved way. "My only requirement is that you be cautious. I wasn't lying when I said it's going to change you, and… maybe not entirely for the better. But I'd rather you do this right, and I'll protect you the best way I can. Give me a month or so. I'll see what I can cook up. In the meantime, we'll keep our public record together minimal. If I need to contact you fast, or vice versa, we do it through Jess."

She pauses. "By the way, for the moonlighting work — did you pick out a name yet?"

* * *

"There's no need to thank me for my support of James. It was the right thing to do. I was just happy to lend my voice however I could in his support." Trish speaks softly.

"I'll admit, I've already changed. I'm not sure whether for good or bad, but I'm hoping for the good." She says slowly. "I've already gotten in a couple scuffles, but…" She pauses and looks down at her feet. "I want to make sure that I do it right." She says after a moment. Looking back up, she smiles. "I've been using a paper plate mask, Halloween cat ears, even a Halloween cat suit which was not as flexible as I was hoping." She shakes her head and cringes.

"I want to do this right. And part of doing this right is making sure I have the best outfit possible." At the question of the name, she nods. "I actually do have a name picked out. The name is," she pauses for dramatic affect, "Hellcat."

* * *

"Believe me, the scuffles actually start to become the easy part," asides Jane, who looks like she weighs about ninety pounds soaking wet. Hard to believe she's ever been in a scuffle worse than the Manhattan wind tunnels blowing her away. "It's the everything else that gets really hard."

Her eyes crease at the corners at talk of paper plate masks, amused — not patronizing, just slightly endeared — but Jane doesn't make fun. After all, the greatest lawyer in Manhattan once wore a damn sock over his face. "All the great ones start bargain bin. I promise," she says, wry. "I'm sure even that Bat-guy began somewhere in a unitard."

The dramatic reveal of THE HELLCAT actually incites Jane into a short, mirthful laugh — probably the first time she's laughed in days. "That… will work."

She gives Trish an up-and-down once over, not unlike the way some sleazier men in her life may have elevator eyed… but in Jane's case, it's professional. It's also how she works. She sized Matt in one glance. Her considerable genius is already, in some sub-routine, parsing out the ergonomics. "Either way, when I'm done, I'll hit you up through Jessica. Meantime, keep safe. Don't let anyone see your face."

Jane's hands fork back into her pockets, and she backsteps, all body language intimating that she's ready to leave — probably had promised Bucky this meeting wouldn't stay overlong. "It's your biggest strength, abilities be damned. When they get your number, it's going to be deadly."

* * *

"The scuffles are the easy part?" Trish doesn't quite know how to take that, but she'll be sure to find out soon enough, she figures. "Don't let anybody see my face? This lil thang?" She circles her face with her finger. "Like anyone knows who I am anyway." She makes an attempt at a joke, smiling a little.

She says nothing regarding the once over. At least this time it isn't a sleazy guy doing it, and it's for an actual purpose. She takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly. "Thank you, Jane. I look forward to hearing from you." And with that, their ways are parted.

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