Running things [Martin]

[Wasp]

To be quiet honest Laura hated business dinners where only the upper class were involved. They were often snobby and condescending, usually Tony Stark was around to help Laura grin and bear through it but none of the Stark representatives were able to attend today, unlike Laura they were able to thing a better lie than she.
"So Ms. Van Dyne you're a hero correct? What was it you were calling yourself?....insect? fly? Bumblebee?" An older woman drawled next to Laura her constant questions were beginning to annoy the girl especially when she was mistaking Laura's codename constantly.

"Wasp, I'm called Wasp" Laura said through gritted teeth a painful smile stretching across her face. She took a quick drink of her beverage before excusing herself to the bar, thank God she was now of legal drinking age. Standing at the bar she took a breather wishing to leave right now. She was about to do that when she saw someone approach her from the corner of her eye. She really hoped it wasn't that old woman.
Dress

[Martin Findlay-Lewis]

"...again, you're saying space colonisation like it's something inherently evil by design, George. And I know you were very supportive when Chrysalis started constructing long-term shelters for refugees and the homeless around the Savage Land. So, essentially, you think that living on the completely empty surface of Saturn is bad, but it's okay to have dinosaurs for neighbours?"

The rest of the journalists laughed gently, never letting their dictaphones waver, and Martin took another long drink of Guinness so he wouldn't groan aloud, bury his face in his hands, or do anything else that might give these people the - totally correct - impression that he was tiring of them. Thinking up and implementing radical ideas to reshape the future and save mankind, great; having to stop and explain said ideas to people who only want to know the absolute worst-case scenario for their sensationalist tabloid masters, less enjoyable. He expected better from the man sat opposite him, George Urich. Up until now he'd pegged him as 'the smart one' amongst this bunch...

A statement quickly proven wrong when he spoke again. "Saturn, Martin? Really? It's a gas giant."

"Yes, George. Really. It may be gas, but it's also extremely dense and filled with hurricane-strength winds which we, using current-level technology, can harness to keep a network of, let's say, rafts - that's the best name for them at this point - aloft and moving in accordance with the planet's own orbit. We're still crunching some numbers with regard to how gravity will factor into things, but we're very close, and Reed Richards - who's still the premier mind in this field - has the utmost faith in what we're...doing."

Martin's eyes drifted toward the bar, plotting his next drink - but instead fell across a familiar face, or at least a familiar back-of-the-head. Laura Van Dyne, as I live and breathe. She looked pretty fed-up, judging by the way she practically stomped her heels into the floor as she walked. She also looked...quite fantastic, really. Nobody says that. Nobody goes up to a girl and says 'you look quite fantastic'. Martin frowned to himself. Unless the girl is Susan Storm, I suppose.

Whatever he was going to say, he bet he'd enjoy it more than any further discussion with the press gang. Coughing pointedly, he rose to his feet and said, "I think we'll leave it at that, ladies and gentlemen. I've got a busy night ahead - after all, being a not-quite-middle-aged rich guy in a bar, it's my duty to get completely hammered, start a fight, and wake up the next morning in a Mexican ditch covered in my own vomit - otherwise you folks'll be out of a job, right?" Another round of canned laughter and a limp handshake from Mr. Urich, and he was free, at least until his P.A. kicked up a fuss about the headlines tomorrow morning.

Slipping discreetly past several couples clearly having more fun than he was, Martin made his way towards Laura. She turned her head towards him as he got close, and he stopped with a slightly rueful smirk. "Remind me, which one of us was it that said, 'I'm never going to another of these parties again in my life' last time...?"

((Suit))

[Wasp]

Laura smirked when she realized that it was Martin who had approached her.
"I believe we both said that even though we know it wasn't going to happen" Laura teased with a smirk, she eyed Martin's suit approvingly he looked really good. Usually everyone here wore expensive clothes but they never stood out the way Laura and her dresses would.

"Nice suit by the way it really fits you well and looks great on you" Laura complimented in all honesty. As a fashion designer and model Laura knew good clothes and when others looked good in clothes. Or out of clothes for the men that Laura found attractive some were her fellow Avengers. She took a drink of her beverage hoping if she was just a smidge under the influence the party might be more enjoyable. She looked over that the reporters who were gossiping and some occassionally staring at the two of them.

Oh the tabloids will be going crazy Laura thought a bit annoyed, she knew what ot was like being on the other side of the camera and sometimes with made up stories about her. But if they were here that must mean they wanted to talk to someone...

"So how have you been by the way? Hope reporters haven't eaten you alive yet" Laura asked turning her attention back to Martin. She was friends with Martin as well as the Starks. Janet and Hank had founded the Avengers along with Tony so Laura tried not to get inbetween business with these two. Chrysalis being the main compettition with Stark Industries but Laura knew both were philanthropists looking toward a brighter future.

Laura hadn't been able to stay in contact with Martin recently she realized. She was busy with recent Avenger activities the phrase there ain't no rest for the wicked evidentally being true. Plus now she had Captain America trying to recruit her into SHEILD, and he was pretty attractive to boot but Laura wasn't planning on accepting his offer.

[Martin Findlay-Lewis]

Martin laughed as he self-consciously tugged at his shirt's collar. "Oh, this old thing?" He didn't like admitting that he rarely picked out his own clothes, doubly so in front of Laura - she'd no doubt give him all kinds of hell for that, and she really didn't need any more ammunition. Not that he minded the ribbing per se - in fact, he enjoyed it. Besides, it's not like it'll wind up in print.

Walking the rest of the distance to the bar, Martin rested one elbow on the top surface and leaned against it, sparing the bartender a pointed glance that he knew meant 'fresh pint, please'. Though he'd managed to outgrow many of the habits he'd picked up from his formative years in England, Martin still had no stomach for fancy cocktails or liquors.

"Hope reporters haven't eaten you alive yet..." Martin raised his eyebrows at Laura's remark, then followed her gaze back over his shoulder, to where the press still stood, comparing notes and shooting the occasional 'discreet' glance towards himself and Laura. Great. He didn't want to drag anybody else into the shambles of his tabloid life...but then, Laura was pretty thick-skinned. She could probably take it. "Nothing I can't handle, just trying to have a reasoned discussion on the merits of being eaten by a T-rex versus being shot with lasers by a passing Kree sentry. The usual day at the office for me. Thanks, Harry." He directed the last comment to the barman as his next drink showed up.

Picking it up, he nodded to Laura. "What about you, trying to drum up some funding? That's an awfully nice dress to waste on these old-timers. Or me." Taking another sip, Martin figured he was thinking along the right lines, at least. Laura could talk her way out of - or into - anything if she needed to, and that certainly included one or two million dollars from this assembled horde of aged trust-fund babies. Plus, he hadn't heard of her being...involved with anyone recently. Not that it's my business to pry. And I wasn't.

[Wasp]

"Hey you were barely ten when I was born you're not that old, and to be honest I just wanted to show off my pretty dress. Not that many times to do so in the Avengers mansion and here is better than nothing" Laura explained with a smile, she really did like Martin he was good company and hated coming to these parties as much as she did. Though no one was forcing her to come to these parties, Hank wasn't really apart of Laura's life let alone the business portion of it, no she merely came to these things to keep her contacts up incase she ever needed a favor from these people.

"But I mostly came here to talk about my new clothing line and finish up some modelling deals with some of the women here" Laura explained motioning to some women with their husbands they were much much older than Laura but they were well known and if they supported Laura other wealthy well known members of the community would support Laura.

She may not be as much of a genius as Martin or Reed Richards or even Tony Stark but Laura was smart enough to know how things like this worked and even the basis of Pym particles. So that was something that made Laura feel smarter than Average plus being an Avenger helped Laura think on her feet, so American business wasn't the most challenging thing for Laura to figure out.