White Oleander

@mrofontaine / valentines auction

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.

"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

"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?"

"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.

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.

"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.

"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.

"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,"

@jordana-velasquez / valentines auction

Isla had proven herself during fight club. There was potential there, potential that needed refining. That was what had prompted Jordana’s offer.

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?

"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.

for @islahvnt

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."

@etiennebrickcanet / valentines auction

"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.

"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.

@drrutherford!/ valentines auction

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.

"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.

@maksimkurylenko / valentines auction

"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?"

where: The Barbican Centre who: open @mobscene-starters

"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."