ic Life's Parade of Fashion

[Electra]

As soon as Frank took his hands off the fabric, Erin pulled it back up again, giving him a significant look before turning her attention back to Trevor. "You know, if you play your cards right, maybe you could get a P.E. credit for it. I know some students who do gymnastics and stuff have gotten class credit. Less time with Archer, more time doing something you like, it'd be pretty win-win."

[Gizmo]

Frank gave Erin a exasperated look before turning to Trevor for support. Whatever the dark haired youth's feelings on the matter were, he was far to busy studiously studying the ceiling tiles to share it. Eventually the tailor rolled his eyes skyward as if praying from inner strength, and set about adjusting his notes to accommodate the girl's preference.

"Just as soon take the classes," Trevor announced, steering the focus back to the conversation. "Can always use the exercise." Spreading his arms, he wryly indicated his lean form.

[Electra]

Satisfied that her assets would be protected, Erin let Frank go about his work. "That's because Archer hasn't gotten his hooks into you yet," she told him with great confidence. "Run through a few dozen of his simulated torture sessions and you'll be wanting to get out of classes too. I'd be searching for ways out myself, but I'm not supposed to play competitive sports yet." She sighed. "Maybe in the fall."

[Gizmo]

Trevor raised an eyebrow mildly. "They're that strict with you?" He'd known that the faculty had put certain restrictions on Erin because of a combination of her potentially dangerous powers and a perceived lack of restraint, but keeping her from competing against other students at a school full of powerhouses and paragon-type metahumans seemed needlessly severe. "Talked to Summers?"

[Electra]

Erin colored slightly, realizing she'd opened the door to questions she'd rather not have to answer. "It's not that big a deal," she replied evasively. "Just something Archer and Dr. Marquez cooked up between them. It's not like sports are as much fun as they were before the whole superpowers thing. Too easy, you know? Mike and I went out and played super baseball in the simulator once and it was okay, but not that exciting."

[Gizmo]

"Not really," Trevor replied easily. Lifting one hand palm upward, he let a tiny cloud of midnight mist seep from his pores to float there, a puff of perfect blackness which spun lazily for a moment before smoothly dissipating into the air. "Useful, but I still do most things the 'hard way'," the lanky teen noted. Trevor was pointedly aware that he wasn't in Erin's metaphorical weight-class when it came to sheer power. It didn't bother him terribly, but the knowledge was certainly there.

Franky looked between the two, shaking his head. "What, do I look like I play basketball?" the portly tailor scoffed.

[Electra]

"You'd be tough to beat at hide and seek," Erin pointed out with a grin. "I'm not sure you'd even have to hide. But somehow things aren't as fun when you don't have to work at it. But anyway, now that I think about it, maybe you shouldn't mention the dancing thing to Archer. He might decide to make it a unit in the class, and laughing at some of our classmates might give me an aneurysm." She looked over at Frank. "You could wrestle," she suggested, deadpan, as she gave the fabric bodice one more tug.

[Gizmo]

"Have to keep an eye out for competitive hide-and-seek leagues," Trevor agreed in a tone so dry only context provided any hint that he was joking. Without paying much attention to what he was doing, the dark haired youth had begun sorting through the carefully layered ties, amassing a small stack of red cloth in varying shades approaching the one Erin was presently wrapped in. Looking down in mild surprise, he began to replace them in their display positions, knowing that Frank could simply craft a new one from exactly the same material as the dress he was working on. Trevor was momentarily disconcerted; normally he was quite meticulous in his movements. Unconscious fidgeting wasn't like him at all.

The heavyset tailor snorted as he reviewed his notes. "Sweetheart, I'm lucky if I can get out of bed most days. Not everybody gets as much, ah, exercise as you kids."

[Electra]

"Exercise is good for you," Erin pointed out, shifting from foot to foot as she waited for Frank to finish up. Fidgeting was definitely normal for her, especially when she was doing something she was already uncomfortable with. "Are we almost finished?" she asked Frank. "It looks good, I think." Truthfully, it was hard for her to envision what the dress was going to look like when it was done, and the dressmaking terms he'd been tossing out went mostly over her head. "How long does a dress take to finish?"

[Gizmo]

Frank gave her a self-satisfied smirk. "How long does it normally take, or how long does it take me?" he asked with a hint of smugness. "Don't worry, it'll be ready in plenty of time for you to try it out and make any alterations you want." The portly man seemed pleased with the way the dress was shaping up, even after Erin's insisted changes to his original design. "Old man and I used to get rush jobs all the time, back in the day."

Nearby, Trevor finished rearranging the ties, giving them a slight frown before turning his attention back to the matter at hand. "Let him tell the story of how Frank Sr. and my grandfather met," he implored Erin. He turned to the tailor, the corner of his mouth curving upward. "You know you want to."

[Electra]

"Please do," Erin encouraged. It sounded like an interesting story, plus she was happy enough to be getting out of the yards of pinned fabric that she probably would've agreed to anything. "Trevor mentioned that you did a lot of clothes for heroes back when his grandfather was active."

[Gizmo]

Frank gave Erin a look a mixed amusement and wry self-deprecation. "Just how old do you think I am?" he asked around an easy smile, adjusting his suspenders with mock vanity. "I've been at this, oh, sixty some years now, but I was only starting out around the time those bloody ingrates started hunting down the heroes instead of the real crooks." The tailor's eyes unfocused as he thought back, a trace of remembered frustration passing over his face. "Had the so-called law knocking on my door more than once. 'Are you now or have you ever been,' etcetera, etcetera. Pheh."

Listening silently nearby, Trevor's countenance clouded over subtly. The original Midnight had been perhaps the most prominent hero who continued operating well into the fifties in defiance of the government crackdown on vigilantism. The witch hunt was still a sore topic in the Hunter household, and his grandfather's conduct a point of family pride. The idea of family friends being persecuted as well, obviously didn't sit well with him.

Shaking his head, Frank came back to the present. "My father, though, Frank Senior, he was around back in the heyday." Making his way to the counter at the back of the shop, he sat down and folded his hands over his substantial girth. "Back then, folks'd take a minute to take off their hat and jacket before a fight, even the super types. Gentlemen's agreement, see?" He gave the two teenagers a level gaze over the top of his pez nez, nodding sagely.

[Electra]

"Even the villains?" Erin asked curiously. "What about people who didn't have coats and hats?" She didn't know very much about hero history, despite the class she'd sat through in the spring, but she was fairly sure that not everyone in the past had played fair, or worn hats, for that matter. "When did it start changing, the costumes and the attitudes and all that?"

[Gizmo]

Frank huffed, his barrel of a chest stretching his suspenders as it rose and fell. "Absolutely even the villains. Just because you were robbing a bank or building a giant freeze ray didn't mean you couldn't have class." The tailor shook his head in disgust. "Not like now, with these punks with powers just looking to do as much damage as they can, getting into fights for the sake of it."

A faint smile pulled at the corner of Trevor's mouth. "Rose tinted glasses?" he suggested mildly, suspecting nostalgia was playing a part in Frank's assessment.

The elderly man opened his mouth to deny it, but ended up sighing instead. "Maybe so, maybe so. Still."

[Electra]

"So does this mean that Trevor's supposed to take off his hat and coat when he's fighting villains?" Erin asked curiously, giving Trevor an arch look in the mirror. "Or is he exempt as long as the bad guys aren't taking theirs off? It seems like it could put him at a disadvantage if they aren't going to behave like gentlemen." As Frank unwrapped her from the lengths of red fabric, Erin sighed with relief and smoothed the wrinkles out of her blouse.

[Gizmo]

Trevor's mouth opened and closed slowly a few times, the stoic teen's version of stammering in confusion. Frank snorted once more. "Are you kidding? Sweetheart, that family is hard on their clothes." The tailor shook his bespectacled head. "Heaven only knows how that bloody hat has survived all these years."

"Good hat," Trevor explained simply, crossing his arms. His soft tone carried a note of pride as the corner of his mouth turned upward.

"That's actually how my old man met the original Midnight, in a way," Frank mused. "Came crashing though that window there, all torn up." The stocky man gave Trevor a flat look. "Hard on windows, too." The lanky teen could only shrug.

[Electra]

Erin chuckled at that. "Occupational hazard," she told the tailor, stepping down off his fitting stool. Before she stepped away from the mirror, she ran her fingers through her hair and resettled her headband, one concession to vanity. "Thank you for your help," she told Frank politely. "I can't wait to see what the dress looks like when it's finished." Walking back to Trevor, she gave him an inquiring glance, wondering if he had anything else he wanted to do here.