eleanorxshipley
Her tears are shining honey sweet with love.
With a trace of misty morning, and the promise of tomorrow in her eyes.eleanor shipley - thirty-one - actress
Sister. Daughter. Lover of animals and anything vintage. The stage and silver screen is what I call home. A perfect balance of classic Broadway and old Hollywood.
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"That means a lot." In a world that could sometimes be so cruel, she found solace in the people that genuinely just wanted the best for everyone. Ayda's smile lit up the room, even if she seemed as though she wasn't thrilled to be there. Eleanor understood that; often she preferred quiet to the recklessness.
At the question, Eleanor thought of Samar and his matching cuff-links. That was about as close that had come to acknowledging anything between each other in public. Truth was though, they had never discussed anything beyond their beneficial agreement. This small gesture almost hinted at more, but she couldn't be too sure. After all, he may have just been appeasing her.
"No, just myself. Actually, I'm not sure I can even recall the last time I had a date on my arm." That was firmly the truth. "How about you? Who's the lucky one that got to escort you?"
Tonight was a night to dress to impress. Though her mood didn't show it, she knew how much effort Nehir put into her attire for the night, that she wanted to come show off what her friend had done. It was about getting her potential new clients.
"That is very kind of you, I mean it. I won't argue with that." A genuine smile appears on her features.
"I am doing the same." Part of her contemplating going home, but now that she was here, there was no way to leave. "Did you come with someone?"
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She couldn't contain her grin at that remark. Gideon's hugs definitely helped in the most dire of instances.
Eleanor contemplated his words, and upon reflection, he wasn't exactly wrong. She really wasn't one for trouble, and despite the spotlight being a requirement of her career, she was happy to escape it when it came to personal terms. Yet, sometimes she ended up right in the middle of the web; tangled and stuck. If only he knew about Henri. She wasn't going down that road though, not tonight. Even if she felt guilty keeping it from Gideon.
In the case that things went awry, Eleanor knew Gideon was always looking out for her, and she appreciated him checking in after her date. "Surprisingly well," she admitted, her grin softening as they sought refuge in a quieter area of the estate. It was nice to take a break from all of the noise and music blaring.
"He honestly was a gentleman the entire time. Even seemed to enjoy himself a little. We did the cooking class and he didn't complain when he got burned from it. I know I'm blissfully unaware at times," Eleanor continued, knowing that she was kept out of the loop between most of the fighting factions. "But I never once felt unsafe around him. I obviously don't know his life story, but unless he proves otherwise, he's okay in my book. Enough about me though. How are things on your end? With work, and your lovely lady?"
"As if you'd ever have to beg," He protests, giving her a look as if to say yeah right.
Her next statement's hardly more convincing. "And yet, somehow trouble seems to find you anyway." First it'd been Olivier Fontaine, daring to threaten her at the after-party a year ago, then it'd been her shooting schedule in France, far enough away that he and his loved ones couldn't keep eyes on her, and then the unfortunate business of landing a date with Konstantin Vorshevsky, at a charity auction of all places.
... And he'd seen Samar Sehgal chatting her up earlier. Laying on the charm, he suspects, by the way both parties had been smiling their cheeks off. Lovely.
"Tell me how it went with Vorshevsky." The surgeon offers, leading Eleanor to a quieter alcove on the Berkeley estate, where they could talk with some degree of privacy. He'd intended to ask for the details as soon as she'd returned, but aside from verifying that she was indeed alive, they hadn't been able to make time for it.
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"Thank you again. That's very kind." It was one thing when she was congratulated by a fan, but a fellow friend humbled Eleanor even more. "Well, you're still award worthy," she insisted. "Although they were new friends, Hasan gave off good vibes. She could easily imagine someone smitten with him. "I didn't win any last year, so I'm just a bit surprised. I also made the mistake of having a bit too much champagne last year," Eleanor admitted. "I won't be doing that this time around. So you are welcome to some of mine if you would like. Yeah, I'm sure the media would have a field day with that," she retorted, bemused. "But I'd rather keep my wits about me. No plans, just to enjoy the night. Hopefully. How about you? Did you bring a date along?"
"Of course, you're welcome." He bobbed his head a bit non comitally. "I think I'm having a good evening all things considered. Better for the conversation, no awards for myself, but a few of the people I voted for walked away with something, you might have been one of them, all deserved of course. I haven't seen or done anything too dangerous or scandalous, but the night is young. Do you have anything interesting planned, friends, food, free drinks. I'm sure someone must be trying to get you to make some poor decisions in the name of fun."
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Traveling to another country with a complete stranger that most people insisted was dangerous hadn't been at the top of Eleanor's bucket list. Her emotions about the auction date had gone from optimistic about getting to know someone new, to nervous after a flurry of people had bought her rounds of drinks to 'cope'.
Despite the nerves and warnings, she tried to go into the trek with an open mind, and was pleasantly surprised at what a delightful time she had visiting the quaint, beautiful countryside with Kosta. If he truly was some of the incredulous things she had been told, he hid it well.
Eleanor knew that they wouldn't be trading childhood stories or suddenly become inseparable friends throughout this short adventure, but Konstantin had been nothing but a gentleman the entire time. He was polite and kind, and genuinely participated in everything on their itinerary. Eleanor not only felt guilty about the burn to his hand while cooking, but also that she had let other's words blur her judgement.
A heart-to-heart, if it could even be called such, was the last thing she had anticipated. However, as they gazed at the lit up city below the starry-studded sky - the stream of music bringing everything to a close - Eleanor found herself pleasantly surprised. It wasn't as if they had spent the day in silence, but it was mostly all surface level. Although she had caught herself smiling at him throughout the day whenever one of them found joy in something simple, this may have been the first in which she really locked eyes with him.
Eleanor chuckled softly, her gaze averting over the balcony before meeting his again. "There were a lot of drinks supplied. And wishes of luck," Eleanor admitted, her expression soft as her smile lingered. "But Adriana assured me everything would be fine, and she was right. I'm sure I was not the one you intended to bid on either, but I've thoroughly enjoyed myself. Quite the opposite of terrible," she promised sincerely. "I hope you can say the same. Or at least that it wasn't awful for you."
Kosta was still mostly a mystery to her, but she looked for the good in people when most did not. So next time she heard something ill spoken of him, she might be inclined to speak up.
"Even if you got a nasty burn. Which, I'm very sorry about. At least the strudel was delicious?" She offered, giving a playful little shrug. "Which reminds me-- I have something for you." Eleanor had insisted they stop off at one of the little stores for some snacks after the class, and picked up a tube of burn cream as well.
Fishing the medicine from her glittery clutch, she offered it with a warm grin. "Thank you for being such a good sport. I really have enjoyed myself. I always wanted to come here. Now I can tick it off my wish list."
@eleanorxshipley
Date: Valentine's Day Date flashback.
Eleanor hadn't been who he intended to bid on, but that was okay.
As a matter of fact, the more the day progressed without argument, the more he found himself grateful that the peace of the unexpected trip hadn't been decimated by his and his ex-wife's bickering. Or worse, getting along. It'd taken a while to get over the initial awkward hurdle, but Konstantin could hardly begrudge her that when his reputation didn't exactly precede him for any of the right reasons. Even his best was a Russian politician, and nobody favoured one of those right now...
Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't cruel without reason, and of all the people in London who might've given him one, he suspected she ranked near the bottom of the list. Thus, he'd had no reason to be anything but kind. Attentive. Engaging. Had even participated in their strudel-making class with enough fervour that a pretty awful burn to his hand had nearly derailed the whole date. And now their post-dinner concert had drawn to a close, and in spite of much preferring Tchaikovsky to Mozart, Konstantin realised he'd enjoyed himself. Hoped she had, too.
The towering figure leaned against the wall that allowed them to appreciate the night-time scene below for a moment.
Konstantin hadn't intended to broach the topic at all, mostly because in the beginning he hadn't cared. After spending the day in her company, though, he realised she was kind enough she shouldn't have found herself in the position she had:
"I'm going to assume the flood of people to descend when it was announced I'd won your date weren't there to congratulate you. I'm sorry for that. I hope, at least, I haven't been as terrible as they might've had you believe I would be."
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I know people are bleeding or whatever, but I would note that 1) fashion, too, is a matter of life and death; and 2) these results make me want to join them.
BEST DRESSED MALE(S):
Varden Lefebvre (basic bitches, you're just simping)
Maksim Kurylenko (you all deserve everything that's happening to you rn for this)
BEST DRESSED FEMALE(S):
Leyla Yilmaz
Eleanor Shipley (yas queen)
BEST DATES:
Leyla Yilmaz & Laurent St. Pierre
Make sure to claim your prizes if you survive the night. Much love. ♥
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Self-para (Post Plot Drop).
Awards After Party.
At first Eleanor thought it was some sort of sick joke-- just a horror movie flickering on the giant screen. It only took her a moment as gasps and growls filled the air to realize this hell was all too real. She didn't even know the person that was butchered and tortured, but her stomach churned at the sight, and the thought of how their last moments on earth had been spent.
It reminded her that despite the bubble she had been exiled to when it came to the different factions of their city, there were some honest-to-God monsters among them. Some in this very room. Eleanor had always the mind-set that if someone were nice to her she had no right to not be the same unless given reason to be wary. That was now out the window. Even if she didn't have a target on herself, Eleanor wasn't sure who to trust, either.
Feeling like the indulgences of the evening were about to be all over the floor if she didn't leave, Eleanor swiftly fled the room, but tried not to cause a disturbance. The last thing she wanted was attention to her weakness. Finding the nearest bathroom that she could, Eleanor drew her hair up and out of her face, just in case.
Her hands trembled and her body felt too weak to even rid herself of the churning contents. Instead, Eleanor tried to calm herself with several splashes of water to the face; uncaring if it ruined the make-up she had spent so much time on just hours before. When she had been kind of excited for the night and the awards she was up for. When there was still a sliver of optimism that everyone could gather for once without any bloodshed.
Clenching the edge of the countertop in desperation, Eleanor silently prayed. She prayed that her and everyone else would get out of that place unharmed. Especially those she cared the most about. That footage would haunt her in nightmares to come, but even worse, it made her think about Henri.
Had his murderer killed him him in one clean shot? Or was he tortured until beaten to a bloody pulp? She had been spared the details of his death save from it being a gunshot wound, but had always wondered what really went down. The very idea that some heathen could have taken Henri's sweet soul in a similar manner brought Eleanor to her knees, sobbing. It was all her fault. Not even her hands were clean anymore.
The blonde's breathing escalated, making it difficult to even think, but Eleanor knew she needed to escape. Or search for her loved ones and make sure they were safe. By the time she slipped out of the bathroom, footsteps rattled the mansion. Some she was sure were scattering to hide - others may have been hunting. Hanging out in the small guest bathroom was not an option, even if no one cared to come after her. It was too far to slip outside, nor was it an option when her friends and family were trapped inside. She couldn't lose any others in her life.
Bright eyes misted over with the burn of salty tears, as Eleanor high-tailed it to the kitchen, hoping it might be a harmless place to make camp. That the worst she might stumble upon would be a pissed off chef barking orders at his staff. However the place was silent. Eerily silent. Spotting a kitchen knife on the butcher block, Eleanor quietly took the weapon just in case it was necessary. She really didn't think she would be on anyone's radar. Then, again, maybe the guy in the video hadn't been either.
Eleanor had always been told to never hide somewhere you couldn't escape. Not to allow someone to back you into a corner. Yet, at the sound of footsteps she realized there were only two options for her. The pantry, or freezer. Neither were a great choice, but as voices grew louder she knelt to the floor and crawled her way into the roomy cupboard, thankful for the door that hid her away from sight. The thin crack in the heavy wood allowed her a small peek of the shadows wandering around the room.
Unfortunately for Eleanor, she couldn't make out a word. They could have been civilian wait staff, or fellow innocents trying to hide like herself. Everything sounded like a rampant buzzing. But she couldn't chance it. Shaking fingers curled around the handle of the knife in preparation. The jolt of her phone vibrating with texts from Lara and Samar asking if she was alright made her jump slightly, and she fished her phone out of her handbag to respond and let them know not to come to the kitchen for her. She couldn't take a chance on losing either of them.
Both texts were unsent, for the slam of something in the kitchen (perhaps the freezer door or door to the room itself, she wasn't sure) slammed with impressive strength. Out of anger or frustration... or hell-- knowing this crowd, they may have hid a body in there. The force was so fierce that it not only literally shook Eleanor, but the pantry shelves as well, causing several of the cans and items to rain down on her. Eleanor narrowly dodged a jar of spaghetti sauce as it shattered to the ground, dousing the floor and her dress in what looked like blood.
Eleanor tried to avoid the shards of glass that now sprinkled the floor, which distracted her from one last scuffle of a few spare pans careening to the floor. The very last one, as if a magnet to her, rammed Eleanor into the head on the way down.
Eleanor's phone and knife skittered across the floor as her body slumped, succumbing to the shroud of temporary darkness and unconsciousness.
#tw concussion#self para#after party#2024mobawards#ooc: Just wanted some drama for her for once lol but she'll be okay <3#ooc: I will get to pre plot drop replies asap!#post plot drop#queue
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Eleanor: ... [typing]
Eleanor: ... [typing]
Eleanor: ... [typing]
Eleanor: [no response]
texting 📱 Eleanor
Samar: El, where are you? I've been looking for you but haven't had any luck yet. Did you get to someplace safe with others?
*...10 minutes...*
Samar: Please let me know where you are? I'll come to you.
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Eleanor: In kitchen... don't come here. It's not safe. [unsent]
@eleanorxshipley [text]
Lara: Come to my room.
Lara: Don't try and make a run for it with the leech you keep making eyes at. I imagine he's about as sturdy in a fight as wet paper towel.
Lara: We're safe, have vodka, and are going to ride it out. This isn't my first rodeo and I'm not so sure trying to get people out of here is the best idea.
Lara: I'm worried about you, so please call me when you're on the way, all right?
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For: Anyone! @mobscene-starters
Awards After Party.
Last year Eleanor had overindulged on the alcohol. This year it seemed to be the sweets. She had tasted at least one of every dessert offered at the after party and was already going for seconds. She might not be very tipsy from the drinks, but she was a buzzing on a sugar high.
"Please take these away from me before I can no longer fit into this dress." Eleanor slid the untouched plate of treats out of her reach. "I suppose I should have had a proper dinner first. I don't know that I'll be getting any sleep tonight, but probably not for the same reason as most here."
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"I didn't, but are you alright?" Eleanor didn't really know Val besides their short stint together on stage, but she seemed kind. She had to be in order to be up for biggest heart, right? That they were from different factions didn't matter much to Eleanor. "Want me to get you some water, or ginger ale?"
"Oh no, no that was not a good smell. No." Val darted away as quickly as she could from a passing food tray and found an open window. She felt someone stop next to her. "Please tell me that made you sick too. I don't want to be the weak one here."
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Such kind words brought a smile to Eleanor's lips. Well, it was brighter than the one that had already surfaced as soon as she spotted Amélie. "Thank you, Amés. The feeling is mutual. I would have been thrilled for you to get it. I still think it was a four-way tie." Amélie absolutely had one of the biggest hearts. "How have you been? Are you having a nice time tonight?"
FOR: @eleanorxshipley
WHEN: 22nd of March, 2024.
WHERE: Berkeley Estate.
"If I was going to get beaten out for something, at least it was you I was losing it to."
#ooc: Thank you for this! I was going to write one up for her but I fell asleep before I finished starters! <3#Amélie#2024mobawards#after party#queue
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"There is no telling what kinds of awful names they would call me. And anyone who helped me to my room would suddenly be captive in some torrid love affair with me." She couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it. That definitely wasn't how she intended to end the night. "So I guess I'll just have to settle for boring this time around. You seem to be enjoying yourself though, right? You look lovely as always."
"I'm sure TWI would have a field day with that. 'Beloved Actress Seen Stumbling Over Her Own Feet, Carried to Room by Dashing Savior'. Completely understandable why you'd want to avoid that." Sofie laughed and drank once more from her glass. She had no such compunctions herself. If she had to be carried back to her room, well there were plenty of French around to help her with that.
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"Oh thank goodness. I didn't really want to have to beg you for one." Eleanor smiled, genuinely happy to see Gideon. It felt like too long had passed since they last saw each other. Now he had proof of life from her auction date as well.
Her cheeks heated, feeling a pang of bashfulness. No matter how often she was in the spotlight, Eleanor wasn't used to it outside of a character she portrayed. "I'm doing rather well, thank you. Staying out of trouble." She chuckled, because Eleanor was basically the opposite of rebellious.
"How about yourself, Mr. Man of the Year and Most Successful? Neither of those surprised me one bit. I suppose that could be said for you as well. Good thing we're both capable of it, right?" She certainly believed that to be true for him. Much more than herself.
"Thankfully," The surgeon replies, extending an arm to sling it loosely around Eleanor, "I don't feel the same way about hugs." He gives her an amicable squeeze before drawing back, her presence already having a balm-like effect on his disquieted mind.
"How're ya holding up, Miss Most Beautiful, Biggest Heart?" Gideon asks, in a tone both playful and proud of the recognition she's very well earned. "Seems like a lot of pressure, if you ask me." But if there's anyone who can live up to it, it's Eleanor.
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"Stop being so cute, Sammy. It's unfair when I can't do anything about it in front of all these people." Even the simple brush of his arm against hers brought goosebumps to Eleanor's skin. "I'll make you a crown. You're a winner in my book even without the title. But now you have bragging rights. Not that you really needed an extra boost to your ego." A crackle of laughter slipped from the actress as her eyes met Samar's longingly. That grin of his had her heart flipping madly. Even with her awarded honor, Eleanor still thought there were many others more beautiful than she. Though she was flattered-- when Samar said it, she almost believed him. "You're welcome, and thank you. Absolutely I would say so. And I may have been reserved with those numbers. You have made me laugh more times than I can count."
"Well of all the things I've managed to accomplish, I do think that might be my crowning achievement. Even if I didn't walk away with a literal crown tonight." Samar offered a cheeky grin. "So for making the Most Beautiful Woman in London laugh, I'll call that a win." He returned the slight nudge, careful not to tip their hand in public, even if the smile on her face made him want to kiss her right then and there. "Thank you for that, Miss Shipley, and all the congratulations to you as well for your victories tonight. I'd say this is a night to remember, and for once it's in a good way."
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Eleanor wasn't the type to brag or rub salt in a wound, but Olivier may have been the one exception to that. At least she told herself that as she joined him at the bar with the intention of giving him a little hell over the awards. For once it felt like she had the upper hand against him. For how awful he had made her feel over the past few years, she might have a chance at some reciprocation.
Any desire to do so faded once she was met with defeat. His usual cocky demeanor and bone-chilling glares weren't quite as icy as usual. He still made it very clear that she was the last person he wanted to see, but something in Eleanor broke a little. He could hate her all he wanted, but once upon a time they had been friends. At least she had thought so. Before everything fell apart.
"Truthfully I did fully intend to give you some hell," Eleanor admitted. "But it's just not as much fun when I can tell something is genuinely eating at you. I mean, besides me. I know you would literally rather be speaking to anyone else." She shook her head and took a sip of her drink, her throat feeling dry and thick. She tried to block out Henri and all of the hurt. Right now wasn't about that. She actually was sincerely concerned. Though she doubted Olivier would believe it.
A small sigh escaped her. "I promise I'm not trying to do that. At least, I'm not now," she corrected. "If you want me to leave, I'll let you be. But if you want someone non-partisan to talk to, I swear I'm being sincere. If you don't believe me, you can kill me."
Olivier let out the most brash laugh when he turned his head to find Eleanor. A fan fucking favorite, he'd quickly realized tonight when the awards had come trickling out. "Are you..." He looked at her in disbelief. "What do you want? Rub in my face about my awards? I don't care." There were just some things he couldn't let go of, as much as he wanted too, as much as he'd tried. There were some things so harshly wired into who he was.
A hand raked down his face, even though his life had been wholly better since Édith's arrival, being a father had mellowed him out in so many respects.
But her?
He wasn't gonna' lose it tonight, not with Lis here so he sighed, shoulders drooping. Turning his head, where he sat, a whiskey in hand his eyes narrowed. "I'm fine..." wariness touched his tone. "...look, I'm not really sure what you want but I'm really not in the mood to -- " he didn't want to talk about Henri. Didn't want to relive his pain so he knocked the whiskey back in one. "No way I'm living up to those awards, if that's what you're looking for. Kay?"
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"I promise. My lips are sealed. I've mastered the pout to perfection. There's no way he would say no to it." Eleanor's eyes flickered to Maksim's wardrobe. It seemed the Insider was giving him hell for it, but she disagreed. "By the way, don't listen to the media. I think you look very debonair."
"Don't tell Charles this," He pointed at her, narrowing his gaze. "But that's why you're my favorite, he'd make me sit there and stew."
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