"Um, thank you. In advance." Dick said, sliding up the upper body part of his suit to let you measure his chest. You are, in essence, the tailor of all heroes and vigilantes. Not everyone ask you to make them a suit, but most does, especially when it's simply a matter of redoing one that was too much ruined during a mission for a simple stitching to work.

Dick glanced around the place a little curiously. There were many suits of various superheroes you were working on there, new designs or old ones, or just some that were waiting for a little touch up. Laying on a table, there were tailoring tools and some fabric.

"Seems like you've got your hands full," he looked down at you. "You don't need to work on mine now if it's too much of a problem. I could just... Wear an old one." He's not sure if he's got some old suits, not in a bad shape, in his closet. Maybe the "Discowing"—as some calls it—suit, but that's a little old...