[ When Lucretia asks if he makes the suits all by himself, Cisco gives little affirmative shrug, grinning in that particular bashful way he does when he is feeling flattered and a little proud of himself. ]
Yeah- uh. Yeah, I do. It's my job. And it is so, so wicked cool. I'm honestly the luckiest guy.
[ He really does think of it that way - not that Barry and Oliver and Laurel and the rest of them are lucky to have him around to make suits for them, but that he is lucky to have the opportunity to do it. Lucky to live in a world where he gets the privilege of making fabulous, kickass costumes for the people who are risking their lives making the world a better place.
He sees her nervousness about the implied insult to the Flash suit, but he waves it off with a psshhttt sound and not the slightest hesitation. Fifty IS a lot. ] I know what you mean, don't sweat it. [ And then he dives into a further explanation, clearly too thrilled to have someone he can talk to about all this: ]
It's not the running that wrecks the suits, it's all the rest. The Flash's got a bad habit of getting himself blown up, and encased in ice, and shot, and set on fire, and and and- you get the idea. There's a lot of wear and tear that goes beyond just friction and static electricity. So a lot of the upgrades have been little tweaks along the way - thermal threading to thaw him out if he gets frozen, some bulletproofing in key areas, a remote-operated defibrillator in case his heart stops, that sort of thing. Just adding stuff in as needed. It's mostly leather, treated with certain chemical compounds.
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Yeah- uh. Yeah, I do. It's my job. And it is so, so wicked cool. I'm honestly the luckiest guy.
[ He really does think of it that way - not that Barry and Oliver and Laurel and the rest of them are lucky to have him around to make suits for them, but that he is lucky to have the opportunity to do it. Lucky to live in a world where he gets the privilege of making fabulous, kickass costumes for the people who are risking their lives making the world a better place.
He sees her nervousness about the implied insult to the Flash suit, but he waves it off with a psshhttt sound and not the slightest hesitation. Fifty IS a lot. ] I know what you mean, don't sweat it. [ And then he dives into a further explanation, clearly too thrilled to have someone he can talk to about all this: ]
It's not the running that wrecks the suits, it's all the rest. The Flash's got a bad habit of getting himself blown up, and encased in ice, and shot, and set on fire, and and and- you get the idea. There's a lot of wear and tear that goes beyond just friction and static electricity. So a lot of the upgrades have been little tweaks along the way - thermal threading to thaw him out if he gets frozen, some bulletproofing in key areas, a remote-operated defibrillator in case his heart stops, that sort of thing. Just adding stuff in as needed. It's mostly leather, treated with certain chemical compounds.