open to anyone, especially Achilles/Ken
Paparazzi was having a fantastic night. A premier, a movie, and an afterparty, none of which she had been invited to, all of which were dizzyingly star-studded and god-studded. It was enough to make a girl swoon, really. As soon as she'd heard about the premiere, the goddess had decided that nothing would keep her from being right there in the thick of everything; it was rare that the immortal community intersected with her own kingdom so beautifully.
And it was every bit as sweet as she had hoped. Already she had spotted someone doing drugs in the bathroom (though, tragically, not an immortal) and there was a ridiculously potent mixture of undying guests mingling with the glitterati- she'd already spotted Absinthe, a little Greek who had to be Eros, and an undercurrent of energy to the dancing that thrilled to her bones spoke of some smaller, weaker immortal's handiwork; at any rate, enough to spice up some section of the party.
She'd gotten into the premier on the arm of one of the movie's supporting actors, some third-string almost-hottie who couldn't believe his luck at having such a gorgeous date. It was only too easy to convince him to bring her, just a whisper of yes and please and her own divine touch of "Oh, I'm just a girl, really~" did the trick. Paparazzi had always been very good at convincing people she was just an innocent bystander.
There was no delusion in the goddess' mind that she could go the entire night undetected, not in a room so packed full with gods and decaying demigods. But that didn't stop her from purposely diving into a crowd of thoroughly mortal guests, trying her hardest to infiltrate and snap clandestine photos before someone important spotted her and had her escorted out. Of course, she wasn't exactly trying to blend in; some part of her was sure that if she was only having enough fun, nobody would be the wiser that Diana Monroe was here, and not just for the food.