Re: The City: Sasha, Jude, Oliver
Oliver's smile was warm with conspiracy underway. He was often at his best when he was heisting things or planning to heist things. It was a dangerous high on its own, and the only one that he indulged. But when he did it? He binged. Oliver and Jude? They did not resort to the petty, they didn't pick pockets or run insurance schemes. They did it larger than life or they did nothing at all, which involved much soothing to Jude's practicalities and much dampening of Oliver's zeal, but in the end, the cocktail was very precise. Jude was good at selecting reasonable pieces and at finding the proper brokers. Oliver preferred to plan. In the days before a heist, sleep was a forgotten need while Oliver scrutinized maps and painted the same canvas over and over again to clear his head.
But all of that planning and all of that painting paid off, because they were finally here. The trio trapezed through the party to get their bearings, and Oliver grew impatient as he'd yet to see the painting. His eyes trailed to the ceiling, thinking to himself in an unusually quiet spell as Jude steered them out to the garden and away from the barrel chested man in a stern suit. Oliver slid fine boned hands into his pockets, feeling a rare brush with geniality as the three strolled under the moon. Nothing to see here folks, really.