Ivy had covered the purple and blue accent from Batman's fist the best she could, evening out her fair skin until it's traces were lost, and visible only to her because she knew it was there. She had almost decided not to come, but certain there would be influential ears in attendance willing to be lent her way, the event was too good of an opportunity for her to miss. If she played nice, Ivy had better chances of spreading the seeds of her agenda through politics. Perhaps she had even better chances if she didn't entirely play nice, but the more predominant reason for her attendance was the distasteful string of what she considered losses. Poison Ivy was in need of something that felt like a win, and the charity event, for a cause she could actually get behind, seemed like a good idea. The fact it was being hosted by Wayne Enterprises didn't hurt in convincing her either as she knew it would be a lavish affair. It gave Ivy reason to doll herself up and let the good people of Gotham give her a much needed ego boost.<br/><br/>She was still stewing about her meetings with the Dark Knight, and was having a hard time shaking him from clinging to the edges of her mind. This inability to brush the hero off was likely due to the fact he hadn't bent to her whims, and she hadn't been able to control him as she was accustomed to manipulating others. The entire affair was causing something of an obsession for the redhead, though she loathed admitting it, and she needed the distraction. The suit she was currently attached to did his part as he ushered her about the room, introducing Pamela to an impressive collection of the city's shot callers, but in the back of her mind, Batman fluttered, leaving Ivy both annoyed and particularly determined to shoo him.<br/><br/>The dress she wore was black, and hugged her form perfectly with a slit that ventured far past modesty to reach the high point of her right thigh while its hem dusted the floor. As she moved throughout the crowd her hips swayed elegantly, the cut in her gown allowing an enticing peek of her long leg as on occasion she purposefully left it exposed. Her scarlet hair was swept up, elongating her neck and leaving her shoulders bare where the tempting plunge of her neckline drew the eye. Eyes watched her, men and women alike, some with jealously, some with yearning, all helping to ease her bruised confidence without the need to use any tricks. This night she was not Poison Ivy, tonight she was Pamela, and in all outward appearances, she was a lady. A slightly scandalous one pethaps, but certainly no villain.<br/><br/>The conversation she had been pulled into was boring her, something about stocks and investments that had nothing to do with Gotham Park, and after a few respectable moments, Ivy excused herself, unwrapping her arm from the fellow who escorted her to bid the business men a polite farewell as she left to wander on her own. Her white gloved fingers curled around a passing champagne flute, as she circled the crowd of people, her emerald eyes paying close attention to the mingling groups. There were many faces she recognized, but there were just as many that she didn't as she idly listened in on murmured conversation.<br/><br/>"A pretty lady such as yourself shouldn't be without a gentleman at her side."<br/><br/>The voice came from behind her, and Pamela turned to face it, adorning a decadent smile on her ruby red lips. "And what makes you think I'm in need of an escort? Do I cast the impression I am some helpless little flower?" Her voice purred as she smirked, sipping softly from the crystal glass she held.<br/><br/>She addressed the friendly face of an older man, likely handsome in his youth, but now with silver hair that only added to his age. He smiled kindly at her, his blue eyes gentle. "No, quite the opposite, my dear," he replied. "Though I do think it a shame for you to be without company."<br/><br/>Ivy's coy grin grew softly then as she lowered her champagne and snaked her free hand into the nook of his arm. "As it would appear, I have company now," she cooed sweetly. "May I ask the name of my handsome escort?"<br/><br/>"Alfred, my dear lady," he grinned, folding a hand over hers. "My name is Alfred.