2013.08.21 - The Model and the Linebacker

The shoot is pretty much done, it was a runway session with a bunch of models. Each model who was on stage ends up wearing the formal gown that was their final piece to show off... for the gathering afterwards. After all, the occasion is far more than just folks sitting around and watching the models on the stage. Heather didn't really -mean- to run Cessily ragged, but it was a hectic and frantically paced event. Finally, the strutting is over and Heather wears the blue strapless item down into the crowd-mingling part.

Folks who are the social upper crust, and rich donors to various groups are the sorts who get in here. Oh, and press, past and present press at times. Some people sneak in for free snacks or looks at the models. Difficult to say -every- reason why someone might be here.

She's meandering through the room, smiling happily as she mingles and does her best to draw Cessily out to where -she- can socialize too.

Personal assistant. Yup, sounds glamorous, kind of is, maybe not so much. Most of Cessily's concerns have been dispelled, since her boss does seem genuinely interested, rather than just wanting her around as mutant window dressing. Cessily's not nearly as primped or striking as Heather, dressed in a simple scoop neck black dress, carrying her work tablet under her arm. Despite Heather's best efforts, the silver mutant looks just a touch nervous, her red hair snapping as she glances about quickly.

This wasn't the sort of place Eddie Brock would fit in any more. Not even amongst the greasy looking rock stars that show up to events like this. That was okay, he'd gotten in anyway. Through a skylight. Okay, Eddie hadn't....Venom had. They had only just returned to New York...or rather come here. Eddie was from here...but Venom, well, his New York wasn't also known as Metropolis. He was new. To this universe anyway. He clings to the ceiling high above the mingling models, artists, rock stars, designers, and rich people, blending in with the surrounding ceiling so he was all but invisible, watching.

From this vantage, those really low cut formal wear gowns allowed for a KILLER view for anyone pervy enough to stare, and Venom was. Oh yes. Totally.

But then there's that silver chick. She's....interesting in her own right. Might need to investigate a little more closely.

Laughing at some joke said by one of the rich patrons, Heather gestures for Cessily to come over. "Mister Cavanaugh, I'd like you to meet my assistant. Cessily. Cess, this is Roger Cavanaugh, managing partner at Cavanaugh, Draper, and Whalen." yeah, an attorney. The world doesn't need more of those but hey... Heather is in social mode. She plays the game well at the very least, and steps aside to let her assistant get in close enough to give a greeting to the guy who offers a raised brow as he sees her... metallic appearance. "My Ms. Danielson, you keep such interesting company." Yeah, this guy's one of those idiots who thinks that he can cloak bigotry behind less... venomous words, and still not be known to be such a bigot.

It's hard to say no to your boss when you're brought to meet somebody, even if that somebody doesn't want to meet you, so much. Cessily turns and comes over, standing a respectful distance from Heather and the biggest of wigs. "Good evening, Mister Cavanaugh," she says, smiling and bowing slightly. It's after she makes the introduction that the lawyer makes his cloaked comment. "What type of law do you practice?" she asks with a careful tone of polite interesting, secretly hoping it's civil rights and discrimination, just for the delicious irony. As she shifts, she glances up, thinking she's seen something through the skylight. Maybe just a cloud.

Venom has decided maybe Eddie should make an appearance. If for no other reason than to get a closer look at the silver woman, and her clearly model friend. He leaps down into a dark corner, and when he steps out again, the thing known as Venom has disappeared and the man known as Eddie Brock has taken his place. Dressed in a tux that HAD to be tailored to fit him, the bulky, muscular, and tall Brock, makes his way through the crowd with a grace that is unusual for a man his height and bulk.

"Pardon...." he says idly as he avoids bumping into someone, mingling his way closer to Heather, Cess, and this douche-bag they're talking to. Yeah, he's looking like he totally belongs at the moment. The tux alone looks expensive enough. Eddie's face isn't unknown. He was plastered all over the papers, and television for his part in the Sin-Eater debacle...but like most things, his 15 minutes had passed. He hoped.

"Mister Cavanaugh." offers Heather as her smile doesn't really change much. Only those who -really- know her would catch on to her distaste. She shakes her head, "Seriously Roger?" she adds, unable to really find the words she wants. "And here I thought that someone who deals with so many different levels of society, in so many different ways, might be a bit more open minded. Or maybe it's just that you don't even realize how horrible that sounded."

Mister Cavanaugh looks to Cessily and remarks, "Corporate mostly, mergers and the like.." and then Heather's words hit him and his face goes blank. A practiced poker face that is a reflex for him by now. "I am certain I have no idea what you mean Ms. Danielson." he adds.

Eddie's getting rather closer to Cess and Heather, and is probably one of the few who's focused on the assistant rather than the model. Admittedly Roger Cavanaugh may have just joined those ranks. Cessily shifts her weight and glances down at her tablet. Heather, at least, can see it just shows the lock screen. "Miss Danielson," she says. "Steve...Anderson wanted to say hello," she says, gesturing off towards the far side of the room where a person who's totally not Steve Anderson is lurking because Cess just made him up.

Brock hovers near enough to the conversation to listen in without APPEARING to listen in. It was a skill he'd honed during his journalism career. The one that was over, because he'd cut too many corners trying to get the scoop. In spite of the fact that he cut corners, and misled a serial killer investigation, he actually WAS a skilled investigative journalist...not that it would matter now. Nobody would hire an ex-con, not even one who was trying to reform. Of course, now there was the symbiote adding to the issues. It's voice in his head was incessant. It's memories...memories of HIM...of things that never happened..those were the most difficult.

In fact even while trying to eavesdrop on the two women and Cavanaugh, Eddie gets distracted...seeming to be having a murmured argument with...someone. Not anyone that anyone else can see however. He seems to realize he's drawing undue attention to himself, glancing suddenly, and embarrassingly in Cessily and Heather's direction, before glancing away. Be cool, Eddie, maybe they didn't notice...

Well, Heather has a tendency to look at situations with eyes other than the norm. Or at least, she catches on to details most folks would miss. Eddie's behavior draws her eye briefly, and she raises a slender brow before looking to Cessily. Mister Anderson was an inside joke, a code that the two of them had developed a while back. "Of course. You will excuse me, won't you Mister Cavanaugh? I can't just -ignore- someone, can I?" she asks as she turns her back on the guy, likely right along with Cessily, and moves away. Once out of general earshot of the bigot, she mutters. "Seriously.. I think folks like -him- are the real minority."

Cessily's too distracted, and frankly, simmeringly upset, to tweak to Eddie's eavesdropping. It's a crowded space anyway, so having people nearby isn't particularly shocking or surprising.

A couple months ago they were trying to track down the big fundraiser, an Anderson, and they couldn't mind him. Thus a gag was born. Cessily steps back and lets HEather past her, then moves to follow at her shoulder. "We can only hope," she says with a faint sigh. Their course, however, puts them ready to collide nearly directly with Eddie.

Eddie would of course, have been bumped into, had the symbiote that has decided to be a tuxedo currently not seen them coming, and moved him out of their way deftly. Eddie for his part seems somewhat surprised when his clothing starts moving him somewhere, but his startlement only causes a brief stumble. He clears his throat after almost bumbling into a waiter with a tray full of flutes of champagne, and covers the momentary faux pas by snatching one off the tray. "Uh...thanks there..." he says idly, and then murmurs quietly "Dammit...give me a little warning huh?" as if talking to someone. His voice was low enough that only someone close to him might hear it. He gets a few sidelong glances but other than that he's ignored.

He turns his head again to track where the ladies are, or have gone, his brown eyes darting after them (and down. Hey if they're gonna walk away he might as well enjoy the view!)

It's a good thing that the formal gowns aren't like... skin tight like a bikini might be. Heather reaches out and grabs a snack off of a tray, taking a rather.. un-model-like bite. Meaning, she stuffs the whole little pastry into her mouth as she gestures about while trying to communicate with Cessily. Her whole metabolism thing is likely to be quite familiar to Cess, if not to anyone else nearby. She grins a bit as she chews and then swallows rather... unladylike.

"Sorry." she says to Cess and to a couple random passerby's. "They just looked good." she offers with a shrug of her shoulders. "So, I think we've hob-knobbed enough. Feel like heading backstage to get into comfy stuff so we can go like... dancing or some such?" she asks Cess. Let's see if something else happens to distract'em, eh?

Cessily has to do a quick sidestep to avoid garrotting herself on Heather's darting arm. After all this time it still startles her. "They do," she says, even as the tray keeps going. Odd that they serve such rich things to a group like this. It's not for the models, but still, it seems a bit odd. "Um..." she says tilting her head a bit. "I suppose we could," she says. "I actually wanted to talk to you," she says, turning to head towards the backstage area. "I'm starting school soon, and I wasn't sure if you wanted me to stay on."

Once the ladies are past him, he can continue to stalk them perhaps unnoticed. Of course, he IS 6'5" tall, so he sorta stands out. Even if he is dressed properly for the event. He tries to pace them while looking casual, but he's losing ground, and they look to be heading for the stage doors. Which are usually guarded by security of some kind.

He slips off into the crowd, still pacing them but trying to find someplace out of sight where he can transform again and go in stealth mode.

And of course, Heather has a wandering eye, so to speak. She notices the large guy and nudges Cess. "He's not bad looking, in a musclebound sorta way..." she remarks before heading backstage. (place Jeopardy music here for fast forward while changing!)

It won't be long before she re-emerges in belly tee and bluejeans.

While backstage, Heather has her chat with Cess. "Well, that's up to you. I love having you around, but only you can decide if you have the time and energy to help me -and- do school and such." this while changing, dress whipped off back there in a cubicle, and bra strapped on before stepping into those bluejeans. "I'd hate to lose you. You're one of the few folks who really gets me, and I consider a friend. But, if you must, then at least tell me where so I can stop by for like... late night movies."

Cessily glances back over her shoulders and then sputters, looking back at Heather with somewhat widened eyes. "Him?" she hisses. "He's kind of old for me," she says. "Mayb eyou?" she asks. "If you like the linebacker type."

Cessily follows Heather back stage, picking up her own bag and fishing out her change of clothes. "I do?" she asks, asking Heather that with some surprise. "I...guess. I never thought I'd 'understand' a supermodel!" she admits with a laugh, reaching to tie her halter behind her neck. "Ohmygosh? Didn't I say? ESU. I'll give you my address, I finally found a place!" she says with a smile. "I....I should probably focus on my classes, but I do rather like this job. I think it's the overseas trips that'll be the biggest problem for me." Cessily laces up her canvass sneakers picks up her bag, ready to go.

Eddie sighs as he gets as close to backstage as he can. Security's not gonna let him through. He could GET through, but that would be a little much, and in this crowd, someone was bound to film it on their phone. The last thing he needed right now was the authorities knowing he'd skipped out on his parole, and was likely already wanted for it. It would probably not be good to alert them to where he was either. So...he simply hangs around, where he can keep an eye on the door, watching for the silver girl. Ok her friend was hot too, but...silver. Girl. C'mon. How's that not eye-catching?

Aaaand, out comes Heather in her belly tee and jeans. Her tee shirt is even somewhat humorous, the words right across her chest reading: I bet you can't even tell if I'm smiling or not.... Almost a power girl style reference! She just holds the door for her assistant and grins, "ESU eh? That's not so far! Here I was worried you'd be at like... Stanford." She shrugs and adds, "I tell you what. I'll give -you- the choice for any shoot or trip of whether you can make it. If you can't... I'll hire a temp or some such, okay?" she asks as she drapes an arm over her friend's shoulders. "Now... we can't go dancing alone y'know."

Cessily snorts and shakes her head. "Noooooo. Like I could get in? Like I could afford that?" she asks. "I'm lucky I'm getting anything for ESU," she says. Given the very little Cessily's said about her parents, she's presumably not getting money from them. "That...sounds really good," she says. "And if it ever gets too unreliable, just let me know.

Cess is dressed casually, rather like Heather, in this case in a red halter top, tied behind her neck with a rather ostentatious bow, a denim skirt and some canvass sneakers. Cessily's eyebrows creep up. "Linebacker?" she asks.

Eddie is still sipping his champagne as they exit, and he tries to look casual. A few people have tried to chat him up while he's been standing around, and he's been relatively polite about telling them he's not interested. A few have even told him he looked familiar somehow. "I..we..I just have one of those faces..." he's said. Of course, his hair's long now, and he's scruffy looking in the facial hair department, so that might be just enough to make anyone who THINKS they know who he is to...you know...NOT. He hopes.

As the women come out, he looks in their direction...and his face shows his open appreciation for them both, though to call it a leer would be incorrect. He WAS a photographer after all. Not that he'd ever worked with models, but he could see why this one...what was her name again? That's right...Heather Danielson...he could see why she was considered one. Yeah, the guys in prison would die if they knew he was THIS close to Heather Danielson. Victoria's Secret is popular in prison.

"Well... hrmmmm...." remarks Heather. Cess can almost see the wheels turning in Heather's mind. Can almost smell the smoke coming from her ears. "Linebacker?" asks Heather as she inclines her head. "Well, we could always see how he moves, yah." And she pauses to let her baby blues float about the room before they come to rest upon Eddie. "Hey look.." she remarks, almost locking eyes with the guy, that is, if he's looking at her -face-.

Some people might think Heather has telepathic powers. And....in a sense she does. Cessily shifts slightly to the side and lets Heather lock her supermodel gaze on the linebacker guy, letting out a soft breath as she checks about to make sure they're clear to leave.

"Oh shit...were they looking at me?" Eddie asks no one in particular as he looks away embarrassedly. Was he caught? Did either of them notice his open, and rather obvious appreciation of their street/clubbing clothes? Man...what a doofus. "Just act cool....no...no, seriously shut up!" he says to no one in particular. "Act natural...no, natural for a human..you know what? nevermind!" he growls quietly.

Thus.. the paradox. Women dress to be looked at. And then some of them get all mad when they -are- looked at. Heather.. is used to being looked at. It's her job... and on her other job it's part of that one too. She's just bee-lining towards the Linebacker and plotting in her head what she's going to do to surprise her friend. "Make sure you give me your new address. I need to give you a housewarming gift." she says to Cess on the way across the room.

She gets near to Eddie just in time for... nevermind! And she raises both brows. "Okay then." she remarks, "I suppose I can ask someone else then." she adds with a bit of a smirk. See, she assumed he was talking on a small bluetooth she didn't see, or something like that. As opposed to like, talking to his shirt.

"Sure, absolutely," Cessily tells Heather, half distracted by the issue of the Linebacker. Her job is /not/ to be looked at, and indeed, part of her feels oddly tingly when people look at her too long or in an odd way, as if she's about to get something thrown at her along with shouts of 'Filthy Mutie!'. That...doesn't come. Not now. Not...yet. Cessily lingers as Heather goes forward to talk to the...crazy linebacker? A ripple passes over Cessily's surface.

Great! She saw him talking to himself. Eddie lifts a hand to his ear, as if talking on a blue tooth, which seems suddenly to appear on his ear (if his hand wasn't covering it, that'd probably look weird). He lowers his hand, and looks to Heather, and smiles "Sorry? OH! Sorry, Miss Danielson, I didn't mean to...." he stops, and smiles "It was..." he points to the earpiece Venom has provided as a cover. "Sorry about that....what was it you wanted to ask?" he asks her, his eyes flicking once more to Cessily, lingering long enough to catch the ripple, his lips turning to an almost bright grin "That...is beautiful miss.....?" he asks her.

"Oh, I was just going to ask if you.." and then Eddie comments on Cess's looks and she looks over herself. Just in time to catch the end of a ripple. She grins a bit and adds, "He's right you know." Trying to assuage her friend's self confidence, or lack thereof. But then she says back to Eddie. "You didn't really seem to have a pole up your backside like most of these folks have." she adds as she gestures about the room. "I was about to drag my friend here out dancing, but... to go dancing properly, we'd need someone of a male persuasion with us too. Right Cess?" she asks as she nudges Cess. "Oh, silly me. Hi." she holds a hand out to Eddie, "I'm Heather, and this is Cessily."

"I'm Cessily," Cess reiterates, caught distinctly in the headlights. "Not drag. I do dance," she tells Heather in protest. "Um....why don't you come with us?" she asks, "There's a nice little club over on the East Side I know about," she says. "Not too huge, probably won't get harassed," she says, saying that to Heather, but also thinking of herself.

Eddie grins a bit, though he blushes. He hadn't really been with any women since his wife and he had been married. And then she divorced him while he was in prison, and since he'd been out...well, let's just say you don't meet supermodels at biker bars. "Oh...well, we're...I mean I'm available for dancing, if you'd like some company!" he says offering his hand "Allen." he offers "Would it be stupid of me to admit...I've uh..been a fan of your work..uh Heather." he says. "I don't suppose you'd mind too much if I change before going to a club? These monkey suits make my neck itch..." he says scratching at his throat for good measure.

To Cessily he smiles again "I'd be delighted to join you...." he says offering her his hand as well. "Are you a model too?" he asks "Because if not...you totally should be." he comments, and then winces visibly "Sorry...that sounded like a line, didn't it?"

Shaking Eddie's hand, Heather grins a bit and shrugs, "I think it's safe to say I wouldn't think it stupid of you." she says. "And honestly, I'd -prefer- for you to change, unless you really are going for the whole James Bond look." She chuckles then as Eddie compliments Cessily. She steps to one side and turns to face her friend, presenting a united front with Eddie, "It's no line. I've been telling her the same thing for weeks now."

"We did, "Cessily says. "It's not as if we're up to the nines." Cessily swings her back over herself and then adjusts it. "It is /so/ a line!" Cessily declares, flailing her silver hands. "And I'm sorry, Heather, but I just can't put myself out there the way you do," she says.

Eddie just nods to Heather, and then chuckles abashedly at Cessily "Well, speaking as a photographer, you're beautiful." he says "As a man...you're beautiful." he says "So it's totally not a line." he says "You're beautiful, Cessily, but too young for an old dude like me." he says lightly "Ok, well, I'll meet you guys at the club, what's it called?" he asks.

"Beats me. She gets to pick the club." offers Heather as she just kinda... moue's (sp?) at her friend's reluctance to be in front of the camera. Camera.. wait.. photographer? Her eyes slide sideways to Eddie and she grins, "You work behind a camera eh?" she asks, "Think I could talk you into bringing your camera to capture the fun at the club on film?"

Cessily lets out a deep breath and her head drops, pulling back towards her shoulders as she hunches in some. "I'm not getting out of this, am I," she asks the two of them.

Eddie blinks at the question from Heather, and then shrugs "I don't have one at the moment, but I can pick one up on the way to the club." he says and then chuckles "It'd be fun to snap a few pics for you. Do you have a preference for digital, or film?" he asks. To Cessily he just looks innocent "Hey, SHE'S the one calling this shot...I'm just the monkey who can snap the shutter." he smirks.

"Whatever -you- think works best for your skill set." offers Heather. "I want your style to shine through, not just the dancing y'know." And she smirks to Cess, "Nope, not a chance in hell." Then there's a pause and she says, "If you prefer digital, I bet I could borrow one here so you didn't need to make a stop for it. Long as I brought it back afterwards y'know?"

Cessily shrugs her shoulders and straightens back up. "Okay, okay, we should get going, then," she says. "And please please please don't put my name on anything." Because then she could be, you know, some other silver metal mutant.

Eddie just smiles and shakes his head. "I'm more of a 35mm kinda guy. Old school." he says "Don't worry I can pick up everything I need on the way. Won't be any trouble at all...." he smiles. He'd just have to do a little B&E along the way. No problem!

The man calling himself "Allen" just smiles, and shrugs. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that, Cessily." he says "Anyway, I'll see you at the club..." he says "Don't wait outside for me, I'll meet you guys inside once I have my camera." he says with a grin.

"Well, okay then." offers Heather as she turns to head for the door. Of course, she grabs Cessily's hand on the way. "Let's go!" she announces. Yep, the Heathermobile is parked out back... that powder blue prius. Yes, that's what she drives. Hey, it's cute right?! And she makes Cess drive again because... hey, what are assistants for?

Given that the keys are in her hand, apparently assistants are for not drinking tonight. Then again, eighteen, so..... Cessily gives Eddie the name of the place and its address, then heads outside to the heathermobile. Cessily tosses her and Heather's bags in the trunk and climbs in. It's about a ten minute drive over to the club, but then another ten to find parking, because hey, it's Manhattan.

Eddie follows them out, but instead of walking to a car, he mounts a shiny chrome and black Harley. He rides off into the distance as they head for the club.