thecapitol | You better be dressed to kill

Entry tags:

You better be dressed to kill

Who| Edna and Bucky (MCU)
What| District 1's stylist gets down to business with her biggest challenge.
Where| District 1's costume studio
When| Post-wedding
Warnings/Notes| Potential mention of past traumas and Edna's trivializing of it

While Iskierka was the tribute that Edna had been looking the most forward to dressing, it's Bucky Barnes who needs her help most and she knows it. She'd seen that the footage, the before and after pictures of all the prep team has to go through after every arena in order to make him even remotely presentable. And that attitude! Nonono, it's all wrong. He needs coaching, and while Edna has no doubt that Barbie has done his best, whatever escort District 1 has is definitely not pulling their weight.

It figures. She always has to pick up everyone's slack.

She sends Bucky a message via his communicator; "Come to the shop at 2pm and don't be late Dahling! We have much work to do."

If he doesn't show on his own, she sends Avoxes to escort him. Not Peacekeepers, no. She's read enough on him to know he likely wouldn't react well to their showing up, but Avoxes are non-threatening yet persistent when given a task.

When he does arrive, the costume shop is tidy and streamlined, all trace of Victory's stay erased save for a small portrait on the wall next to the door labeled with a birth year, a death year, and 'in memorium'. Everything else is either brand new or impeccably cleaned, if covered in a chaos of fabrics and threads. There's a pair of comfortable chairs off to the side, however, and this is where the diminutive little stylist sits, sipping a cup of coffee and perusing the latest copy of Celebrus.

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It doesn't take the Avoxes being sent to bring Bucky in.

With all that's been going down recently he receives the message and takes the order as it is, not even considering that it might not be Peacekeepers that would sent after him should he try to refuse.

He wants to refuse, he saw the little woman who was D1's new stylist announce herself on the network and had little reason to believe she would be better than the one's the District already had, maybe she'd be worse. Bucky hates what comes with the stylists, the fussing, the touching, the telling him of what to wear when he just wants his own damn choices back. That's why he avoids them and the clothes they try to stuff him into, using glares and his intimidating air to make them back off when he can, so much so it's only when big events like a Crowning party or going into the arena where they actually manage to get him into the outfits they want.

Now, when he steps inside Edna's workshop, he's wearing a pair of jeans, a dark jacket and one of Steve's shirts which is too large for him but 'borrowed' for the fact it's made of comfortable fabric and it's blue. Bucky stops just inside the doorway and comes no further, staring at Edna with an air of resignation for how uncomfortable this meeting is probably going to be for him.

She doesn't acknowledge him right away, seeing what he'll do, but considering he just lurks in the doorway glowering she decides she has to say something or else they'll ever get anywhere. "Good to see you Dahling, now please sit. I want to discuss your wardrobe with you."

She makes no judgement on what he's wearing just then. She cares little for what Tributes wear in the relative privacy of the tower. It makes candid shots more sensational for the tabloids anyway to see the Tributes in a state other than perfectly coiffed. No, her domain is the public limelight and that's what she needs to discuss with Bucky.

She just motions to the seat beside her and sits back again to finish her coffee, having no doubt that her directions will be followed not because she's physically intimidating in any way, but simply because they always are.

He stares at her, then glances briefly to the side at her direction, like he was thinking over whether to obey or not but then strides forwards, slowly but surely, to take a seat. A large man, he settle uncomfortably into the soft chair, as much to the side opposite Edna as he can manage and looks down at the diminutive stylist with a heavy frown.

"What about it?"

Bucky settles his metal arm down against his side when he glimpses the cover of Celebrus. Yes, he saw that piece about arms like his are now in fashion and doesn't like it one bit.

"Well it's supposed to represent you as much as your District, Dahling. I need to know more about what you want, how you want to be seen." She may not use it all, she has ideas of her own, but Bucky most of all would benefit from being more comfortable. That's a problem with him that she's seen on film. He always looks as if he wants to jump out of his own skin.

"Tell me what you want me to know to make what you want to wear."

Does she mean that? Is she actually genuinely interested in his comfort? Or is simply a pretense where anything he says will still be ignored and he'll be forced into clothing he doesn't want over and over. That's what this is.

"I'm comfortable like this." he tells Edna. Not in this location with her but with what he's wearing. Bucky pushes back his hair irritably as he considers it, what he wants to wear is low-key and comfortable, something that makes it easy to hide, something that won't draw attention to himself. Basically the opposite of what these Capitol outfits were meant to do.

"Unfortunately that won't do for the cameras." She doesn't sound like she thinks that's unfortunate at all. "I want you to be more comfortable than you've been appearing. You won't get many sponsors the way you are presented now."

She regards him for awhile, silent and looking him over from head to toe. "I do think a little dressing down would be good for you, though. Perhaps play up the dangerous assassin angle. District 1 is the luxury District and the frivolous people are worried more about someone protecting their wealth than feeding their families."

She taps her fingers against her teeth, debating the merits of Bucky being such a handsome tribute versus his ability to frighten the bejeebus out of others just with the expressions on his face. He works best with a kind of wounded animal aesthetic, she thinks. Someone vicious and feral but with a secret heart that the sponsors may think they can reach if they show him kindness in the Arena. "Maybe something with a hood... You have excellent eyes, seeing them looking from under the shadow of a hood would send a thrill through the audience. Though I would ask that you pull it back during interviews."

"I don't care about the cameras." he mutters, quietly, because he knows he should. Bucky's been made well aware of the advantages of likability with the crowd in helping him survive in the arena which extended to him being able to help others survive in the arena. He just can't feel comfortable with the eyes of an audience on him, weighing and judging.

Assassin's work in the shadows, they were meant to be unknown -- except when sent on last ditch missions where their survival meant little to their masters, so long as they accomplished the goal. Over fifty years of being little more than a ghost story and now they want him to stand in a spotlight.

The idea she proposes is not without merit, however. Ignoring the compliment about his eyes he focuses more on the advantages of a hood from his own perspective, something that would shield him from sight and disguise his features. So with that in mind he begrudgingly nods, "A hood is fine."

"You should," she settles back in her chair, taking her cup back up to sip at it unconcerned. "If not for yourself, then the others in your District, or others you care about."

It's not a threat, it doesn't carry any hallmarks of one at all, just a statement of fact. Edna has never been one not to state things plainly. "I know you have friends here, think of how you could help them with more sponsors. It's just a way of getting support, Dahling. I've been in this business for a long time and I know how these things work. Trust in that, at least."

She nods at his acceptance of the hood. "Again, this is more for your Escort or Mentor, but I know you'd been a handful to Dale and so I will do him a favor and coach you just a bit. When you are interviewed, you come off as frightened if you keep hiding but your posture when you are not sitting always seems strong and dangerous. You should keep that dangerous stance at all times. Straight backed, ready to pounce. Do not smile. Everyone should be beneath you for you are a master in the Arena, but your eyes will communicate volumes. I don't think you even do that on purpose so don't think about it, just your posture. Do you understand?"

Bucky fights the urge to grimace further still, trying to smooth his face into the perfect blankness, hating how reasonable Edna made the entire unpleasant experience sound. He knew that tone, he hated that tone, the way it was used to cover up doing something horrible and making it about doing good. The worst part about it was that it would work because he wanted to do exactly as she said and help his friends.

He can't bring himself to answer Edna about that and so chooses to focus on the next piece of advice she offers him instead.

"I was taught to be unseen, not to perform." Bucky says with irritation. Still, she's again right about something, he doesn't do it on purpose, he never even thinks about it. It was a result of many factors, leading first from never once having been taken out of the ice by HYDRA to do anything else but go into a fight, to kill, and for another that this place was his enemy, the Capitol his captors who chose to play with him and his friends like they were dolls in a child's playset and make them kill each other for amusement so how else was he supposed to stand? He couldn't relax, not even for a second when there were constant eyes watching his every movement.

Grudgingly he nods again. "I understand."

"Well I am teaching you different. You are not an old dog, you can learn new tricks." She waves her hand at him to signify that complaint has no baring on anything. When he nods, she nods back. "Good"

A moment later she's on her feet and totting over to dig through some fabric samples. After a small exchange with herself under her breath cursing Avox organization skills, Edna comes away with the end of a bolt of thick black fabric. She unrolls about a yard on a nearby table, the selvage of the textile seeming to fade out of vision. It doesn't become invisible, but it does encourage the eye to slide away. The whirling, subtle pattern engraved in the fabric's surface is more eye catching on its own, drawing attention to its own detail and away from things around it. When she lifts the edge to flick the whole length and make it lay flat, it gives the impression of a billowing shadow, unclear on where it ends for the edges fading instead of having a hard stop. "I will use this as a base for you."

His gaze darkens when she says that and his jaw clenches. "I am no one's dog."

Once, never again.

They want him to kill for them, he could almost live with that alone but being paraded round like a show dog? That makes his hands tighten into fists as he watches Edna select fabric from her vast collection, she chooses black of course, it's always black. A good colour for one who wanted to move in the shadows and be unseen but unlike the combat gear he was always dressed in as the asset there is something not so harsh about the fabric, not so sharp.

"Will it all be black?"

"I did not say you were a dog, I said you weren't. Pay attention!" Despite wanting to, she doesn't thwap him about the head with her rolled up magazine. "And it can be, if that's what you want. I was thinking some red or blue details."

She sniffs, stretching the fabric out evenly. "It is a special weave, it will let you decide the moment when you wish to be the center of attention. And when you are done, you will be noticed for not being noticed."

With a grin, she looks at him slyly. "You are a shadow, you should dress like one."

She said he was not an old dog, he thinks his mistake was a valid one. But there is no punishment for it but a verbal admonishment which he can take easily, shaking his head and grimacing. "No. I..."

Bucky hesitates and then pushes forwards with what he means to say, cautious that his wishes might actually be taken into consideration. The people previously in charge of his outfits paid little attention to anything he said. "I like blue. It has tactical advantages?"

His eyes are focused on the material, even leaning forwards in his seat now that Edna has supplied that detail about the fabric she intends to make him an outfit from.

"My concern is not for 'tactical advantages' outside the Arena," she sniffs, moving away from the table to a holographic generation platform in the middle of the shop. With a few button presses, an image of a long coat with a cavernous hood appears in effigy and rotates slowly. A few more presses and the side panels become blue instead of the same black, a dark navy that contrasts marginally but beautifully when it's noticed. Edna rubs her chin, examining her work.

If Bucky has a comment, he'd best make it now.

He glowers further, shifting again so that now he's more hunched into himself, exactly the sort of pose she told him not to do. It might be a subtle rebellion, more likely it's just Bucky being Bucky, though there's more defiance in his eyes than he typically shows to the cameras outside the arena.

Tactical advantages are important to him everywhere, especially when the Capitol is his enemy, unfortunately that would not be a wise thing to say here and so he keeps his mouth shut but the thought is there.

As for the coat... he is not unopposed to its design, especially when Edna adds in the blue with the black. The hood would certainly hide his features from bypassers and cameras alike, though she had also said he must take it down when being interviewed (it seems everytime he notices a benefit it is immediately countered by a downside) and while it's long the length and cut doesn't seem like it would restrict movement.

"Understood." he says finally, continuing to look at the coat. "Am I required further?"

"Not unless you have other things you want in you suit." For perhaps the first time since the beginning of his visit, Edna looks directly at Bucky. "If you trust me, I will make miracles of your wardrobe, but even miracles can be disliked if they don't have a... personal touch. I am trying to help you, Mister Barnes."

She turns back to her work, adjusting the image in all the small details. "You can go if you wish."

He looks at the coat again, already rising from his seat and taking a step closer to get a better, final look.

"... no. It's fine." Bucky says, turning his gaze down to the diminutive stylist. "It's better than what they made me before." he concedes before turning to go.

"Of course it is Dahling, I designed it."

She lets him go without looking up again. She may hope he got the message, but it's no consequence to her if he did or not.

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