Not terrible

[Oriena]

He barely waited a moment before bounding over like an abandoned puppy. Peering into the kaleidescope of her motivations, Mikhail got it wrong. Ori used her sexuality as indiscriminately as any other tool, but lining up competing males was about as yawn worthy as kicking hornet nests. Not to mention that the notion of being a prize churned all sorts of dark defiance in her chest; like her worth could be wrapped and boxed into something so fucking petty. Though she did not bother to correct his assessment, or to point out that if she wanted Mikhail to compete for her attention she wouldn't have picked stoical White of all people to play that game.

But he was only wrong on the combatants. It wasn't White she coaxed Mikhail into battle with.

He plucked the lighter from her palm, and she let him. Either it did mean something, or he was just leading by the dick -- certainly he hadn't paused long enough to consider why she'd chosen this table or why she thought to offer the lighter as a gift in the first place. She doubted White would be impressed with the trouble she brought to his table, or the mention of Jaxen's name. But it only hovered that knowing smile.

"You ought to pick better friends,"
she said to Mikhail. Then, to White. "Are you still running with the snakes, White, even after you let in the big bad wolf who blew their house down?"