[rp] finally, it's PARTY TIME

[sizedefmatters]

Janet van Dyne loved a good party. Especially one that was being thrown in her honor, had so far resulted in a fair amount of relatively tasteful gifts, would make her look so fantastic in the eye of the press (oh hallo Smile Train, what's that? We're giving you upwards of $50,000? Oh, no problem at all) and was at one of her favorite clubs in

Comments

Have a busybusy waitress :3 Feel free to harass her xD

[aintnoswan]

Odette had somehow been roped into working a massive party for one of their more exotic clients on what was supposed to be her night off. 'Please,' Jessica had pleaded with her the night before, practically hanging on her leg to emphasize her point. 'I need tomorrow nigh off! Jake's coming into town and I haven't seen him in weeks!' Somehow, she had managed to pry the girl from her leg and agreed to work the party.

And boy was it ever a party.

"Are we doing okay over here?" she asked a man with an overly polite smile and a tray in one hand. Adjusting her black tie, she took a few empty glasses from the man's table before weaving back through the massive crowds, heading towards the bar. Her cheeks hurt from forcing a smile, but the thought of a very fat wallet at the end of the night was what kept her going.

Haa, fantastic!

[sizedefmatters]

Jan flagged down the waitress, raising her eyebrows. She hoped the staff had at least been prepped enough to recognize her and perhaps a few other choice guests.

"Excuse me, honey? A pomegranate martini here, and can you get a pitcher of your safi sangria delivered to the VIP room in around thirty?"

[aintnoswan]

Odette moved over to the woman who had waved her down, putting on her most practiced polite smile. No matter how spoiled the client was, they were the ones who were practically paying her check, so she had to play nice for now.

Honey? Odette smiled again at her request, lips tightening a little as she nodded her head. "Of course, Ma'am. I'll be right back with your drink." With that, she turned and wove through the crowd again, rolling her eyes and muttering something to herself as she made her way back to the bar.

[sizedefmatters]

Ma'am? Jan screwed up her nose: was twenty-two old now? Was she a "ma'am"? She quickly smoothed out her features as she waited for her drink; she didn't want wrinkles, after all!

[iknowthemath]

If there was one thing that could be said about Tony Stark, it was that he knew how to make an entrance. It helped that he had a driver on hand to pick up and whisk away the car he zoomed in with, abandoning it at the curb and striding through the doors like he owned the place. He took a second to straighten his cuffs, letting his eyes adjust to the dimness of the place, before heading over to the bar and ordering a neat whiskey, his poison of choice.

Surveying the party, he had to chuckle. Let it never be said that Janet van Dyne couldn't throw a party. It helped, of course, to be able to fall back on Tony when attempting to book a venue last minute - What do you mean, we can't have Saturday night? Do you know who I am? ...Oh, looks like we can have Saturday. How convenient. - but she'd managed to pull together an impressive to-do in a week. He knew this would be written up in at least one tabloid, if not more, and had prepared accordingly

[sizedefmatters]

Well, that was one thing, certainly. If Jan was being interviewed, she'd add his pointless taste for drama and glamor, his slowly withering liver and, sure, that he had a great head of hair.

One that was happily very recognizable from across a room.

Jan detached herself from a group of models -- not at all reluctantly, by the way -- and quickly squeezed through the crowds to welcome Tony.

"Sweetie! So glad you made it!"

[iknowthemath]

Having a flair for the dramatic wasn't a bad thing. It could be quite useful in some situations.

He lit up as Janet approached, setting his glass down so he could hold out his arms to her, looking her over. "Well goddamn, don't you look nice?" He pointed to his cheek, smirking charmingly. "Give me some sugar, baby."

[sizedefmatters]

Janet beamed, twirling around quickly to show off her dress before falling into his arms and kissing his cheek obediently. "Anything you say, honey.

"How're you? Isn't my party fantastic?"

[teenycomrade]

Emil knows nothing of dress codes or photogenic crowds. Really, he knows nothing of New York parties, but he's willing to try. He has to get himself out there, if he wants to land a job. Money is needed for rent, and he wants to send some home to his parents, as well. He wants to make his Mama proud.

So here he is, sipping awkwardly at some kind of drink -- what kind, he doesn't know, but it tastes fruity and is blue -- trying to look like he belongs here.

[sizedefmatters]

Jan has no idea who this man is, but she's being a good hostess and trying to talk to everyone at least once, so...

"Oh, that looks delicious. What is that?" she asked, gesturing to his drink after popping up next to him like a Jack in the Box.

[doesnticeskate]

Anton Yelchin was a little jet-lagged. His sinuses were acting up because of all the weird New York pollen. And he wasn't a good dancer. He could sing and play various instruments, but that sort of rhythm unfortunately didn't translate well to the dance floor.

But, either way, here he was, tired, stuffed-up and utterly hopeless at anything more complicated than the macarena -- here he was, dancing. Or at least wiggling a little and laughing with the girls who had tugged him up to dance with them. They were cute and nice and he wasn't going to be in the city for long, so he might as well enjoy himself. Especially if he was going to look like a fool while managing it!

[iknowthemath]

Tony'd decided to detach himself from the bar - his glass was full and it wasn't like he couldn't send some of the wait staff off to refill it when he managed to drain it dry - and mingle a little, which really just meant he'd wander around the dance floor, ignoring people who tried to dance with him and exchanging shouted greetings with those whom he actually remembered.

He'd just escaped a group of girls who'd insisted on doing air-kisses as a greeting (how French), when he bumped into the person behind him. "Hey man, my bad," he shouted, turning around. "Oh, hey, Anton!" He clapped him on the shoulder and grinned. "Glad to see you made it here in one piece."

[doesnticeskate]

"Oh, sorry!" Anton automatically replied before turning around and seeing who it was. "Tony! Yeah, yes, I made it here safely. Slight turbulence over Pennsylvania, something about a man-eating giant rabbit, but you know how these things go. Nice to see you."

[iknowthemath]

"Yeah, you too, man. You got a drink?" He was just making polite conversation, as he could see quite clearly that Anton didn't have a drink at all. He reached out and plucked a glass off a passing waiter's tray - he had no idea who that was for, but it doesn't matter - gave it a sniff - gin and tonic, very classy - and handed it over. "Enjoy! Drinks are on the house, so don't feel like you have to hold back or anything."

[omnomnomprozac]

Hank showed up what he considered to be fashionably late (like two minutes), dressed like a chaplain because knowing what colors go with other colors is for girls, art majors and homosexuals. Immediately noticing that this was, in fact, NOT a small party, he went into quiet panic mode: standing very straight, being very still, except for the hand that was repeatedly uncurling the curly bits on top of the little wrapped box he was holding.

Finally, he decided to go off in search of alcohol.

[sizedefmatters]

Okay, brb, Jan's over here squealing quietly once she sees Hank.

And then she's ducking into the bathroom, making sure her hair and lipstick look great but natural, not done-up, not like she just checked -- how could she have checked? Why would she have? It's a big party, she might not have even noticed him, although who could have not noticed that horrible suit and, seriously, was he wearing a sweater vest? Maybe she should've taken Tony up on the offer to borrow his tie for the night.

Once she was done primping, though, Jan had lost sight of Hank, so it takes her a few minutes to track him down. Then, of course, it's time for the casual standing by him at the bar and asking for a drink and then noticing him --

"Hank!" Oh, damn, there was that squeak again. There goes the 'casual' aspect. "I was getting worried! Hi!"

[omnomnomprozac]

You think without sleeves that it would be less of a sweater, but it's actually more.

Hank turns in the direction of the squeak, eyebrows raised and lips pressed around that tiny little straw in a cocktail that you probably aren't supposed to actually use but that's just how Hank Pym rolls.

"Worried? Oh. Well, I'm here now. Hello!" Pause. Beat. Awkward silence. "There are an awful lot of people here."

Hurrrrr.

[sizedefmatters]

He's using the mixer straw to drink. Dear God, this boy is so adorable. Jan's cheeks were already starting to hurt from how much she was grinning. She hoped he didn't think she was pitying him or that this was a charity case or anything because, seriously, look at those eyes!

"Are there? Yes, I suppose. How are you? What're you drinking? I love your tie." Okay, a slight lie, but it gave her an excuse to touch him, as she reached out a hand to finger the knot of his tie.