RP: It's a Wrap! Who: Robb McLellan, Jon Snow and Margaery Tyrell When: 9 June 2013; evening Where: The Pool Upper Terrace at Island Hotel, Newport Beach, Ca. Status: Complete Word Count: 4,289
Dressed to absolutely die for, Robb and Margaery were quite the stunning couple amongst lush tropical foliage, canopy-style cabanas and twinkling lights that made up the intimate, altogether heavenly space situated on the upper terrace level of Island Hotel. Red Gum Studios had pulled out all the stops, choosing the perfect venue to hold a cocktail party as reward to staff and stars for completion of their latest production. Valley of the Sun now officially 'in the can' and with only editors' keen eyes and a bit of special effects twiddling needed before it hit the big screen, a great sense of buoyant, back-slapping, "Well done, you!" that could only come from so many people working toward a single goal filled the air.
Tables laden with heavy hors d'oeuvres and with drinks and animated conversation a-flowing, everyone was having a really fabulous time.
Especially Robb McLellan.
Often the center of attention simply by being tall, ginger-haired, foreign and extremely personable, Robb absorbed everything like a greedy sponge. And with the added bonus of Margaery at his side wearing a slinky, gravity-defying bronze tinted gown cut low enough in front and back to make every red-blooded male in the room give Robb the thumbs up, he couldn't be more chuffed with his current lot in life.
Styled to complement and enhance his 'girlfriend's' assets, he'd pulled from the wardrobe a classic black Brioni suit, cream colored shirt, and matching silk tie, pocket square and cufflinks in a deep jeweled lapis. The ensemble made all the more credible after being given the seal of approval by one fickle, English clothes hound.
Grinning, Robb lifted his tumbler of vodka (on the rocks, of course) and gave Jon a bit of a salute where he stood sentinel across the portico. So far with all their combined efforts, overeager Gorgons and one pesky bint by the name of Jeyne had taken the hint and cut a wide berth around him. Content, for a little while at least, to sink razor sharp teeth into other unsuspecting prey.
"You’re doing a wonderful job scaring off the harpies tonight, Margaery," he said, pressing a light kiss to her temple. Playing the role of besotted lover came frightfully easy, especially when granted a fair amount of wiggle room by an altogether territorial Lord Snow. "Thank you again for helping us out."