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@islahvnt

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@ayaz--ates / post auction results
"You owe me a twelve thousand, you know that right? A date worth twelve thousand or cold hard cash."
@mrofontaine / valentines auction
Much easier had she found anything else to steer her elsewhere – isla might have known it nigh impossible, yet she'd swear she tried. nevertheless the gravitational pull was inevitable, "didn't think you'd be here this year – hard to follow up a date with the bosses wife.." As if she hadn't remembered the serpents coil that had constricted in her chest a year before hand.
Olivier turned the second he heard her voice. As always, captivating wasn't the perfect word...it was beyond that. Always had been since the moment he'd seen Isla walking down the stairs behind the club. Cigarette in hand, bathed by the dingy lights of the alleyway. And yet...an angel had appeared.
What a first encounter...this one far differed.
"This man is hoping for a date that doesn't feel like best behaviour is in order." Though, he watched Isla...and wondered where her mind might be leaning tonight. If they'd end up together, or on dangerous territory. "Be safe...no matter what your choice is tonight..." it came out before he could stop himself. But he didn't care.
Chest tightening, every nerve in her body screamed at her to reach out for him – or run, she couldn't exactly tell them apart anymore. The way he looked at her ripped at every edge and far too many words spun through her mind to congregate actual words. "Hopefully you get what you want," a small smile, half as bright – half as real as any she'd ever given him. One that would never quite reach her eyes.
Be safe. It made her want to scream. The idea that in the end - that's exactly what tore them apart. Two warring sides, and the very real possibility that giving in could kill either one of them. "Think you can manage to do the same?"
"Jesus, Ben..." Isla snorts, not one to dampen her spirit regardless of who might be around to see or hear it, "You sure do know how to make a girl feel beautiful, huh? Truly – tell me again how you've stayed single all this time?"
His nose crinkled, lips twisting. Ah, fucking hell. "Sorry, Isla..." shoulders sagging, not wanting to make her feel crap because he was so fucking tired. "Melissa's had me up till all hours, don't take offence..." Benjamin's head already snapping to the bar. "I'll buy you a drink...and a shot if you pretend that was the best compliment you've ever heard? I mean...who wouldn't want to get a shot with the most beautiful woman in the room?" A cheeky grin sliding across his lips, and a plead in his eyes.
"I'm kidding, you psycho," proof resting in the quick shift that drew her arm into the crook of his elbow, "You think I don't know how damn lucky you'd be to win a date with me?" Purred into the shell of his ear, catching his lobe between her teeth gently, her quiet laughter bringing her gaze back to the bar. Pulling gently enough to draw them both through the crowd in that direction. "Baby, the day I see you looking anything but exhausted is the day I finally start worrying about you." She knew, as well as anyone how quickly Melissa could drive someone into the ground - but Isla also one who much Ben felt he owed her, the respect he carried, and she thought she understood." You can buy me both, and then tell me how amazing it'd be to spend a night with yours truly."
FOR: @islahvnt
"I have to say..." hand waving down the length of her body, "If you ended up getting my date, I wouldn't complain."
"Jesus, Ben..." Isla snorts, not one to dampen her spirit regardless of who might be around to see or hear it, "You sure do know how to make a girl feel beautiful, huh? Truly – tell me again how you've stayed single all this time?"

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"I know what I want, sue me," it wasn't true, not even slightly. She had no fucking clue – and that was part of the problem. But maks was safe (oh the irony) a place to fall when all else seemed to fail her. "And tying me down in a literal sense is not the same as what you're implying, darling." neither had sought to make anything official – they'd never even had that conversation. was thag what this was? She bristled lightly, hand slipping into his pocket for the lighter she knew he kept there, her thumb flicking it quickly to bring flame to life, "are you saying there's someone here who is competition for me?"
"Sue you? You have no fucking money..." the clipped, sarcastic humor pulled at his lips, brows raising. He wasn't wrong. "Look...if you need to lend money, I have some." And that was not him being patronizing. Simply offering, alongside their banter. To the outsider, it might've seemed like they were arguing. But not to him.
"You have a way with that mouth of yours..." silent challenge, as he flickers his gaze to her own for a moment. Damn it, she looked good.
The irony in their friendship....whatever they fucking were — had always been the palpable difference in their natures: Maksim, the stoic creature who clung to the corners until it was time to erupt; and she, the fire sprite, taking center stage to bring forth what he always needed. a distraction from the bottom-feeders. Isla was like sunshine to Maksim, in an off-handed kind of way. She was fire and ice and all things fucking nice. But she also brought a calm chaoticness he so often lacked.
But their label? Unknown. Had either asked? No.
"...I never said that," but he didn't elaborate. Wasn't sure he wanted to open up this conversation right here, right now. What was it? Were they even anything, or simply...fun. It'd been like this for so long, it had grown into their day to day...but it wasn't...anything? Ugh, it was complicated.
"Do I have competition, Isla?" Maksim wasn't stupid, knew her well enough now. And knew that her ex-boyfriend was somewhere in this room. Waiting to be bid on. His jaw clenched, he hummed quietly.
A low blow – yet one that she'd long since learnt to let go of. Isla would never be one among them flush with cash; she'd have to grind and earn every fucking thing she ever had. "I'm not your damn charity case, Maks," her hand flung out to swat at his arm, the highest place she could reach while they stood side by side. It's rough, but the curl of her fingertips against him pulls him back towards her a little more than before. "–But maybe... – I'll have to see how much the date I want gets to before it's not worth it anymore." She didn't want to use his money, but neither did she want to cheap out so obviously in front of so many people.
Her mouth falls open, tongue toying across the tip of her sharpest tooth as she casts an eye over the Russian, "Oh, I know I do." As if she didn't spend as much time as possible winding him up, in a multitude of different ways. The lacking expectation between them a breath of fresh air - neither one landing at the beck and call of the other but there was something to be said for the relief he brought with him. The kind that released the tension in her spine - because maybe, just maybe, she didn't have to fight for survival. That maybe, Maks might just be someone she could trust to protect her in a world that'd done nothing but light a fire at her heels.
"You didn't, I asked." and following such a train of thought now left her questioning whether she worried if there truly was some kind of competition. Would she have to fight for this too? Would she lose him, in the same way she'd lost Olivier? The loyalty of something else - something considered more. Her hues don't shift to the Frenchman as Maks spins the question back on her – but she can feel him, even from here. It's a prickle beneath her skin, a raging flame that seeks to consume, but she can't. She can't.
Turning into him now, Isla guides his hand until it finds purchase against her waist, let's go only to lay her palm flat against his chest. Let it go. Let him go. It swells in her throat but she's survived far worse. "No." It's defiant. The facade of conviction solid, for now. "You don't."
Maybe one day, it's be the truth.
"Can't I at least get a little hint as to which date is yours?"
"You think I'd come up with an entire story like that if I was talking about myself?" A manicured brow lifts in tandem with the corner of her lips as she shifts closer. "and then come over here and tell you about it?" admittedly, she'd skirted through years of lying through her teeth. "A woman like that doesn't really sound like the kind to simply walk over here and ask." she watches intently as smoke seeps between his lips - from his nose, the cherry tip bright enough to spark.
She wasn't fucking stupid. Isla knew exactly who she was talking to – but undoubtedly couldn't have cared less in the moment. devil may care, hell hath fury and all that. "Bummer," soft spoken in the night, fingers brush with meticulous purpose against his as they curl around the cigarette they now shared, "i'd heard you were one of the interesting ones."
"I don't know." He grinned. "It's not like I know you." Étienne only knew who she worked for and somewhat of what she did, after all, he always made it his business to make sure they knew what the other organisations did. No, she wasn't followed, nothing like that, though her file had slipped into his files before. To be safe, of course.
Though now, in such an event, he did not much care for the fact she worked for the Rutherfords. "Why are we still talking about some other woman?" His brow arched in question as his gaze followed to her lips - just for an intended moment too long. "Oh? And what have you heard? Do tell."
"Kind of how I prefer it," it slips through her lips as if it's something she's deeply considered time and time again, slow and drawn out. And it's not entirely wrong – everything she's ever done has been made all the easier by a enigmatic sense of anonymity, but neither is she blinded to the idea that people in their world never stood to be the least knowing on the chessboard. His astute comment confirms what she'd already thought – having seen him looking her way more than a few times throughout the night. "You're right, we should talk more about me,"
A huff of a laugh surfaces, blossoming upon lips that curved into something akin to satisfaction, "And reveal my hand? That'd be a little silly of me," the small detail remained, this had been the man who'd beaten Melissa almost to death – but a night like this always felt like something of a ceasefire, right? She sighs, "I've certainly heard that you're a little less bark," a step drew her closer, the cigarette stubbed out beneath the toe of her heel, "a lot more... – bite.."
@jordana-velasquez / valentines auction
"Mateo did tell you which one was his, right?" the blonde sidled up alongside Jordana with a certain ease she hadn't felt for a long time. It felt like years since someone took note that she'd never been useless. The time following her release had felt like another cage, until Jordana had broken the lock with the acknowledgement that she didn't have to live in the sidelines of information and gossip - that blood would stain her hands again. "– got you a drink," the champagne glass held out between them.
Isla had proven herself during fight club. There was potential there, potential that needed refining. That was what had prompted Jordana’s offer.
Still, a hesitation had surfaced this evening.
“We need to talk.”
Loyalty mattered to her. Trust could vanish in the blink of an eye.
She needed to know where Isla stood.
This looks good... The understatement of the night, hopefully. Instantly, her mind spun, conjuring a great many possibilities of what could have brought Jordana here tonight with those words on her mind. Had good news ever followed?
"Okay." spoken quietly, Isla takes a sip of her drink and swallows back the thickened uncertainty in the back of her throat. The inside of her stomach hot, and turning over. "Whats on your mind?"
"well, that is kinda the point of the anonymity. we'd rather see each other with a bullet between the eyes and yet – will put it all aside for a lucky dip in romance... or maybe both, depending on who you win." she paused, taking stock of the room, "its no wonder half these fuckers don't have kids with like, three arms and six eyeballs honestly."
David had noticed her earlier, draped over a Kurylenko, a little too open for a room like this.
“Or people get careless,” he said evenly, his gaze lingering a second too long before he lifted his drink. “And we learn where the cracks are.”
He took a slow sip.
"Is that what this is for you? A recon opportunity?" The grin that adorned her features wasn't a facade. Isla supposed in some way, most of them would be doing the same. "Maybe –" she began, "You should try not to take it so seriously. You'll get frown lines."
for @islahvnt
Maksim's pet.
"Cold?" Nadezhda didn't care much for her.
It wasn't as if Isla had left her house that night expecting to slip right by comments of the like – she wasn't the first to say something. "Actually, no." The corner of her mouth quirks upwards, "These rooms are always so fucking stuffy anyway. I thought I'd dress for myself this time."

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@etiennebrickcanet / valentines auction
uninvited, isla crossed the cobbled stones to meet him, the fresh air a chill across the expanse of bare skin "there's a woman over there. she's been watching you," the slight cant of her head gestures towards the open doors of the conservatory, "I just convinced her to bid an absurd amount on the abandoned theatre because I, the clairvoyant, could sense that it was your date." a drag of a cigarette doesn't quite quell the smile on her lips as she considered him carefully. "so either you end up with a total crazy, or she does."
"And would that woman be you?" After all, it was Valentine's day, a quite French celebration supposedly filled with love. Or anything similar to it.
Étienne didn't bother to look where she was pointing and simply smiled at her instead, taking a long look to watch her from top to bottom. "I don't believe my date would bet on that, she's quite too clever. However, you seem to be the kind who'd like the adrenaline of the unexpected?" He reached out, gently taking the cigarette from her, his eyes pausing on hers as if asking permission before bringing it to his lips for a slow drag. "How about neither?"
"You think I'd come up with an entire story like that if I was talking about myself?" A manicured brow lifts in tandem with the corner of her lips as she shifts closer. "and then come over here and tell you about it?" admittedly, she'd skirted through years of lying through her teeth. "A woman like that doesn't really sound like the kind to simply walk over here and ask." she watches intently as smoke seeps between his lips - from his nose, the cherry tip bright enough to spark.
She wasn't fucking stupid. Isla knew exactly who she was talking to – but undoubtedly couldn't have cared less in the moment. devil may care, hell hath fury and all that. "Bummer," soft spoken in the night, fingers brush with meticulous purpose against his as they curl around the cigarette they now shared, "i'd heard you were one of the interesting ones."
@drrutherford!/ valentines auction
"Quick, drink this. You're gonna need it." handed over as if all the time in the world had failed them - her own glass quickly becoming empty in an absurdly quick blink of an eye. If there was one thing Isla could do right, it was sink a drink. "Ten bucks and all my pocket lint says you end up with a psycho."
He accepts the glass but it hovers halfway to his lips as he's distracted by the speed with which she's downing her own drink.
... Which is a blessed distraction from the negligee she decided to wear out in public.
Pocket lint, she says?... As if there's any room for that on the scrap she's calling a dress.
"Ye of little faith," Gideon replies, matching the woman's pace in downing the alcohol. He relieves her of the empty glass she's holding, scanning the area for a waiter to whom he might offload both. "Must be some normal stock left in London. And if you've just jinxed me, Isla, so help you God — I won't forget it."
"incorrect – to have little faith, I'd have to have any at all and well..." Her tongue clicks against her teeth sharply as he frees her of her empty glass. The sweet burn of the concoction she'd downed dwindled in the back of her throat: a stark contrast to the chill of the night air that breezed against bare skin.
"Normal? Here? Bah." Her laugh is unbecoming, a squawk of sorts as she turns to find a place beside him, close enough to lower her voice, casting doe hues out across the room – "If you're lucky, you get landed with one of our own... Most of which you've been friend zoned by for years... There's the frogs, and well... If they're not already shacked up one of the cities most wanted coke fiends, well, they're probably boring anyway. And the you've got the Russians or the sovrani... Probably more interested in gaining some kind of leverage with you than anything." She chews her lip quietly, moment before a grin splits her features.
"You could get Melissa." a golden result, her hand pins itself to his chest, fingertips curling into the lapel of his jacket with a gentle tug
"We should get another drink, right?"
@jordana-velasquez / valentines auction
"Mateo did tell you which one was his, right?" the blonde sidled up alongside Jordana with a certain ease she hadn't felt for a long time. It felt like years since someone took note that she'd never been useless. The time following her release had felt like another cage, until Jordana had broken the lock with the acknowledgement that she didn't have to live in the sidelines of information and gossip - that blood would stain her hands again. "– got you a drink," the champagne glass held out between them.
@maksimkurylenko / valentines auction
"I didn't say I'd have to cut her," Isla shrugged rather nonchalantly... She hadn't - not explicitly at least. "I'm just saying, whoever she is better count her damn fingertips, before and after your date."
"For a woman who can't be tied down, you do seem a little possessive over me, милый," Maksim cooed, eyes front as he watched those of both friend and foe filter into the room. His lips may have curled, eyes alight with the back and forth, and yet... he didn't look away from the others. "What is it? Scared of a little competition?"
"I know what I want, sue me," it wasn't true, not even slightly. She had no fucking clue – and that was part of the problem. But maks was safe (oh the irony) a place to fall when all else seemed to fail her. "And tying me down in a literal sense is not the same as what you're implying, darling." neither had sought to make anything official – they'd never even had that conversation. was thag what this was? She bristled lightly, hand slipping into his pocket for the lighter she knew he kept there, her thumb flicking it quickly to bring flame to life, "are you saying there's someone here who is competition for me?"
@amaroadriana / valentines auction
"I don't know if I should feel pity or jealousy towards whoever owns the date you win," the tips of her fingers collide in a polite and alarmingly charming quiet round of applause for Adri. She wasn't fucking blind. "That poor fucker, you in that dress? Think many of the men in here have cowered over a harmless little backshot before?"

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@etiennebrickcanet / valentines auction
uninvited, isla crossed the cobbled stones to meet him, the fresh air a chill across the expanse of bare skin "there's a woman over there. she's been watching you," the slight cant of her head gestures towards the open doors of the conservatory, "I just convinced her to bid an absurd amount on the abandoned theatre because I, the clairvoyant, could sense that it was your date." a drag of a cigarette doesn't quite quell the smile on her lips as she considered him carefully. "so either you end up with a total crazy, or she does."
where: The Barbican Centre who: open @mobscene-starters
“I do hope whoever wins enjoys a little unpredictability.”
"well, that is kinda the point of the anonymity. we'd rather see each other with a bullet between the eyes and yet – will put it all aside for a lucky dip in romance... or maybe both, depending on who you win." she paused, taking stock of the room, "its no wonder half these fuckers don't have kids with like, three arms and six eyeballs honestly."