Rubbing Elbows

Characters: Erid Irons Aveline Allaway Dick Grayson Adrien Agreste
Rated: PG
Summary: Playboy Dick Grayson, international supermodel Adrien Agreste, actress Aveline Allaway, and technocrat inventor Erid Irons meet at a uptown party.
OOC Date: Mon Mar 12 21:29:14 2018
IC Date: Mon Mar 12 21:29:14 2018
Where: Gramercy Park - Midtown Manhattan

Sometimes, the Places To Be Seen are charity fundraisers full of papparazzi and pop stars. But who needs the press and public eye when when you can keep it discreet and invite-only- until the pics show up on Instagram, anyway. And that /kind of/ seems to be the point of this party, full of impossibly pretty people occasionally clustering into groups to pose for selfies.

In a lot of those selfies, but not taking many (or any, really) is Dick Grayson, known to the public mainly for the size of his trust fund. Admittedly, that's not exactly a unique trait in this crowd- in fact, he doesn't seem to be doing much standing out at all right now. Or he's /trying/ not to, anyway, with a glass full of ginger ale and an agreeable smile for anyone passing by or pulling him in to more pictures. "-Yeah, yeah, I saw you play there last week," he's saying to the musician currently chatting him up. "Really looking forward to that video you were working on. I'm sure it'll be great, uh- yeah- oh, sorry, excuse me, I-" and he lets the conversation trail off as he gracefully backs out of being told about another project that they'd /really/ love to have him and his bank account get behind.

And for some this is HELL. So much hell. Erid isn't the most socially apt person to begin with, especially with the obvious scars that disqualify her as one of the 'beautiful people'. Not that that bothers her overly, because many of the beautiful people she's encountered are somewhat wastes of space living off their parents success and contributing little or nothing to society in general of worth. Other than those who are philanthropists.

But, she at least needs to be nice to people who might be willing to help fund her new company, or at least invest in it. So far…not a lot of people interested. PRobably, she notes to herself, because the technology is likely beyond most of the people here who are more concerned about these twits…tweets. Whatever they are. She sees selfies remain the same in either universe too. Sigh. She really should have brought Dani for this, she's much better at…people.

Generally, she's ended up being a wallflower watching others in the party…she figures at least she can get an idea from the flow of the crowd who the important people here are.

Amid the beautiful people is a blonde with green eyes. Stunning physique in stunning designer clothing, this sort of semi-contrived rich-people non-sense was not really the sort of place Adrien Agreste publically liked to visit. Publically.

Recently, Adrien had learned something that had him unsettled, and 'public' definace was a way to poke at his father, who had thus far eluded meetings with him. A text was left for his girlfriend before he arrived. If she joined him, he asked that she text him so that he could greet her at the door (read; get her in).

For the moment, the blonde model was here alone, nursing a drink and managing to not get too noticed. If this were Paris, however…

Aveline is there as a plus one, meant to be arm and eye candy, just another pretty face to add to the crush. She doesn't seem to be taking any selfies, or sucking up the people much richer than herself. Her hair is partially pulled back with a simple gold bar barette, leaving plenty to curl over her shoulders. Small golden stones dangle from her earlobes, matching the glittery gold flowers on the black background of her fitted dress. Eyes are smoky, lips a natural rosy pink, just a hint of glow - be it natural or cosmetics. Shoes are heeled and black, as is the small purse dangling from one wrist while the other hand supports a drink.

She has no idea where her 'date' has gotten to, and frankly isn't too worried abotu finding him just yet. Green eyes dart from face to face to piece of art or other note of interest. She will sip lightly at her drink, letting the emotions of others around her brush over her awareness like passing ghosts.

"Hey, man, I think we met in Paris," Grayson makes an easy transition from the chat with the money-seeking band-member to the first face he recognizes, quickly changing direction on the ball of his foot and not so much dancing as just letting the music guide the tempo of his steps. "Adrien, right? I don't think we've ever gotten the chance to talk before- Dick Grayson" he doesn't extend his hand to shake, but does exchange a quick hug-and-selfie with a passing aquaintance- somehow managing the delicate balance of attentions to make it clear he's not blowing either person off, and keeping his body language open,inviting others to drift into the conversation as casually as he did- he even projects his voice enough to be overheard by others, "what brings you stateside?"

"Hey, man. We met in Paris."

The voice, drifitng above the tempo of the music, brings Adrien's gaze over to the dark haired American. Doing his best to stay out of the self-hug-moment, Adrien smiles back a Dick, nodding.

"Oh, yes. I remember," he says and the moment is french accent is heard he's seen as exotic and is now getting drawn into selfies. He's not as smooth as Dick is about splitting his attention.

"Hello. I live here now," is the reply from the model. The good news for those taking selfies with the model? He is very good at making both himself and his partner look amazing.

"Are you still modelling exclusively, or should I expect to see you looking better than me in other brands soon too?" Dick asks, letting his smile turn slightly wry and a little sheepish. He breaks eye contact with Adrien long enough to scan the room- friendly nods and smiles directed at anyone whose gaze he meets- especially the quieter types, like Erid. If nothing, Dick Grayson is a crowd-pleaser- and part of pleasing the crowd is making everyone there feel welcome, even if he's not the one hosting the party.

The scarred blonde at least meets Dick's eyes as she glances her way, then after swirling her drink slightly starts to drift towards the pair. She at least recognizes Grayson as a local wealthy elite. She's…not sure of the other young man, she's seen him somewhere though. A magazine maybe? She doesn't rush advancing, seeing that they're already talking.

Adrien is not anywhere near a good at making people feel at ease as Greyson is. In fact, the blonde seems perfectly content to let Dick draw people in. He follows Greyson's gaze to Erid, giving a soft almost shy sort of smile.

It's stupid. Adrien knows it. He came here with the express intent to annoy his father into a meeting with him. And instead, he's falling righ tback into Perfect Adrien Agreste. Of course, talking about modeling doesnt help matters.

"Still modelling exclusively, and managing the Modeling Agency here in the US. Have for the past few years, actually. So, no, I think your track record in non-Agreste brands stays safe a little longer," Adrien retorts, warming up as Greyson's magnetic personally calms the need to be perfect. The chuckle is much easier than Adrien expected it to be

"Well, let me know if you want to get into some trouble some time," Dick offers, flashing a wide grin as if daring future bouncers to even try making him wait in line. He takes just a few steps to the side, motioning to Erid "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name- Dick Grayson-" he says, part introduction, part direction- using his body language to close the distance between the three of them. "-And this is Adrien Agreste. Have you two met?"

The other woman tilts her head a bit. "Erid Irons." she says, a definite accent in her voice…Eastern European. Sokovian, for those who have heard it before. "No. Have not met you before. Would remember?" She offers a hand to Dick, then to Adrien. "Know of you, Mr. Grayson. A pleasure to meet both of you." She smiles faintly.

Hand extended is taken and shaken lightly.

"A pleasure, Mademoiselle Irons," says Adrien, french accent on display.

"No. We have never met before," he adds before grinning a somewhat cat-like grin at Dick. It's gone a half heartbeat later.

"Sure. I'll let you know."

"Well, it's a pleasure, Enid Irons," Dick says. "And if no one minds, I'm going to pretend I didn't just ask the two Europeans in the room if they knew each other," he adds, brightly. "Does anyone want a drink? Can we get some more drinks over here?" He disappears into the crowd for a few moments, before waiting for the answer, off to replinish his ginger ale and fetch /actual/ drinks for his new companions. And probably starting about three or four more conversations between quiet party-goers as he makes his way there and back. This is, evidently, Dick Grayson in his element.

Erid raises a brow over her scarred eye. "Not all Europeans automatically know each other." she says, sounding faintly amused. "Am an expatriate, also. American now. Left Sokovia some time ago, when civil war broke out." She tilts her head, turning her attention to Adrien as Dick steps away to find those drinks. "A model. Yes. Have seen you in magazines, remember now." she says thoughfully. "Very famous, yes? You came to the United States recently too. Are you living here now, immigrating?' she asks curiously.

Left alone for the moment with Erid, Adrien manages not to bring a hand up to scrub at the back of his neck.

"Yes. I'm here on a work-visa, so for the moment I'm not immigrating," Adrien replies, mentally thinking that he has to stay as model as his father is. At least, until he can confront him about the Butterfly Miracu- No, Adrien. Think about that later. Plagg migh tbe able to keep akumas away from him, Adrien knows that the trick will be keeping as level a head as possible.

"Ah. Yes. Visa is useful, but trying to stay here permanently, almost done with that. Very complex." She makes a face. "The United States is very labrythine in how it does immigration. You would think they don't want anyone to actually come." she says dryly. "But, almost done. Soon." She cocks her head. "Why here?" she asks curiously. "Paris is usually seen as the fashion capital of the world."

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