Gemma Masters (scousewitch) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-09-14 23:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, gemma masters, zevran arainai |
Who: Gemma Masters & Zevran Arainai
What: Meetings and flirtings
When: 9/13
Where: A bar in downtown La Habra
Ratings/Warnings: PG, language & discussion of Zev's career
Status: Complete
Gemma had interviewed at two places so far, but both of them had been duds. One had been too bloody far away for her, and one had an owner who didn’t even know what was supposed to go into a gin martini.
So she was sitting at a bar two doors down from the idiot’s, enjoying a rather nice old-fashioned. The place was busy, but not too busy, and she wished they were hiring here.
A man on the short side of things - five foot seven, but a well muscled five foot seven - entered shortly after. He was whisper quiet, almost too quiet; he tended to startle waiters and waitresses as he moved, but it wasn’t a malicious sort of thing. He just seemed to ... slink.
It probably didn’t help that he was in leather pants and a tank top, did it?
Gemma saw him before she heard him, and might have flinched; he just seemed to show up near the stool next to her. “Bloody hell. Think you took a fiver off my life there.”
Zevran smiled, tucking blonde hair behind pointy ears. He had a tattoo on his right cheek, but unlike many facial tattoos, it flowed with his delicate bone structure and made him more handsome somehow. “Ah, that is not the first time I have heard a beautiful woman say that, but usually I hear it under more intimate circumstances.” He gave her a wink before ordering a glass of wine.
She had to laugh. “And here I can already tell you’re an interesting piece of work.” He hadn’t actually hit on her, so she didn’t threaten him. Yet. He had weird ears, but the tattoo on his face was actually kind of pretty. “Where’d you get that, might I inquire?”
“From a dream,” he smiled. He offered her his hand with a flourish. “I am Zevran Arainai. It is nice to sit next to you.”
She raised an eyebrow - a silly, glib reply, to be sure. But if he didn’t want to tell her, he didn’t have to. “I’m Gemma.”
“That is a pretty name. May I buy you a drink, to repay you the kindness of not slapping me yet?” He grinned, taking her hand and kissing it, never breaking eye contact.
That did get her to laugh. “All right.” At least he knew what he was capable of. “Old fashioned, please. And you’ve not gotten to slapping yet. I debated telling you to piss off, but no more than that.”
“You are a brave woman,” Zev chuckled. He waved the waiter over, ordering Gemma an old fashioned, taking his own glass of wine from the barman.
“Had to be. Struck out on my own rather early. Was going barmy at home.” Gemma chuckled a little.
“Oh? How young? I was sent to boarding school at six, so I do not really remember having a home growing up.” He knew it tended to make people sad, but he was okay with it, really; it didn’t make him sad anymore.
Gemma just made a face. “That’s just cold. I left home at seventeen. Moved to London, started tending bar. Drinkin’ age in the pubs is when you can see over the bar, so.”
“I grew up in Spain, it is very much the same way.” He shrugged his shoulders. “My father did not like admitting I was his, and he is wealthy, so he simply turned me over to boarding schools. It was better for both of us. I have never tended bar, do you enjoy it?”
He was actually curious, so Gemma decided to answer. “I do, actually.” She said, turning a bit to face him. “If you’re interested in people, you can give ‘em a bit of a chin wag. If you aren’t, you can hide behind the bar and ignore ‘em except for taking orders.”
“That does sound ideal. Sometimes at work, I do not want to be overly chatty, but I have to always be ‘on’. It is why I try to get a lot of private time in before filming.” He shook his head. “I could not do my job if I were constantly introverted.”
“Yeah?” She took a drink of her old-fashioned, curious. “Filming? Are you an actor, then?” She didn’t remember his face from anything.
“Of sorts. I do not think people remember much of me from the neck up, alas.” He chuckled, leaning back. “Most people who recognize me do not admit as such. But were I naked, you might?”
Gemma blinked, eyebrow raising. She was about to slap him when her brain made the connection. “Oh. You’re in porn.” That made her laugh out loud, tossing her head back. “Strewth, I thought you were hitting on me as clumsy as a schoolboy!”
That made Zevran laugh. “Oh, I have not done that since I was a schoolboy! And I fear, it has been a good many years since then,” he winced.
“Since bein’ a schoolboy? Aw. Well, you don’t look it. Still a spring chicken, you.” Gemma chuckled.
“You think? I am in my mid-thirties, but thank you. I think it is the elvish blood.” Zev chuckled to himself.
“Elvish?” Gemma echoed, confused and curious. “I’m twenty-five, me, but I should probably look older. Ain’t lived the gentle life.”
Zev pointed to his ears. “They are not normal, no?” He shook his head. “You look younger. You have wonderful genetics, your parents made a beautiful child.”
“Well, no, they ain’t normal, but I was trying to be polite. It’s possible, believe it or not.” Gemma shrugged.
“In California?” He pretended to be shocked. “Say it is not so! Polite is so boring.”
Gemma had to laugh. “Fine, you look like a ruddy elf from Tolkien. Happy?”
Zev laughed along with her. “I know I do! It is very true, what you say!” He shook his head. “I did not always have my ears, I just woke up one morning and they were there, hello.”
“Bloody odd, that.” What the hell would just give someone random elf ears? At least he seemed at peace with it.
“It is something I just have to deal with, I suppose.” He shrugged and smiled. “I like them.”
“Well, that’s good, I s’pose. You’re the only one who’s got to live with ‘em, after all.” Gemma tipped her glass a bit in a mock toast. A Spanish elf who worked in porn. This place really did have everything.
He nodded, tipping his glass toward her as well before sipping his wine. He was glad she hadn’t brought up his piercings. Most women did.
Gemma had seen stranger. “You been in the skin business very long?” She got the impression she ought to know more about him, but she honestly didn’t use much porn. Also, she was fairly sure that the film she’d seen him in had been a gay porn, so why bother flirting?
He blinked, trying to remember. “Since I was seventeen? I am thirty-five now, so yes.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “My girlfriend at the time said I should, so I found a director and asked if it would be okay.”
“I feel bad I’m not more f’miliar with your stuff.” Gemma said, then stopped herself. “Your films.”
“If you were familiar with my films, you would be familiar with my stuff,” Zev quipped. “It is quite fine, really. I will send you some.”
“Got a point there.” Gemma smiled a little - a genuine one this time. “Don’t have to do that, I’m barely awake when I’m at home as it is. Job hunting’s right exhausting.”
“I do it for everyone, otherwise I just have a lot of dildoes in my home shaped my like my own penis for no reason other than self-absorption on a massive scale.” Zev shook his head. “Better I distribute them. Like Johnny Appleseed. But ... not.”
Gemma laughed again, setting her drink down so she didn’t choke. “God. Gives new meaning to dick in a box, eh?”
“I think I have hundreds! There is no reason for them, it is not like some sort of job perk. I have one!” Zev rolled his eyes. “I do not get how my contract merchandise benefits got negotiated.”
“Does seem a bit funny, that.” Gemma was curious, in spite of herself. “Do they pay you in merchandise, or do you actually get a pay cheque?”
“Oh, I get a paycheck, residuals and my performance fees. Appearance fees, and the pure profit from the website. I do about two hundred thousand a year.” He shrugged. That was before the 50k a month from his father in hush money. His life didn’t want for cash flow.
“Well, then I suppose you could just start an eBay business and make a killing.” Gemma grinned, finishing off her old-fashioned. “Nobody would know it was you, right?”
Zev blinked. “That is genius! I could clear out my guest room once and for all!”
“Bloody hell, it’s fillin’ up your guest room?” Gemma laughed delightedly. “That’s madness.”
“It’s a bit sad, really.” Zev shook his head, sighing to himself. “But I have boxes upon boxes.”
“eBay.” Gemma said firmly, hoping he’d laugh, too. “What do you do for fun, eh? Besides now trolling eBay.”
“Jogging, traveling, watching bad reality television.” He chuckled, sipping his wine. “I do not know, I am actually a rather boring soul.”
“I s’pose it’s understandable, given what you do all day. Most of us spend our nights going out looking to get shagged, after all. Well, I don’t, but still.” Gemma wasn’t the same sort as most.
“You do not have to, you are stunning.” Zev shook his head. “Honestly, I am more of a creature comfort person. Live, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow I will probably die.”
“So are you always on the move, then? Or is this actually a place to stop and stay?” Call her curious. He really was rather flash, in an unusual way.
“I have lived here since I was eighteen, but I always have to be on the go for conventions and awards ceremonies and such.” Zev shook his head, sighing to himself. “It is a lonely life, at times, but it is mine. At least I have one!”
“Definitely better ‘n being dead.” Gemma agreed solemnly, smiling in spite of herself.
“That is what I have come to think,” he smiled. “I do not try to want too much.” He smiled at the bartender, and was rewarded with another glass of red.
“Probably best. Get greedy, get fucked.” Gemma ordered one more drink. “As my uncle might say. Found out the old bugger’s here, actually. Had no idea.”
“Do you not get on with him?” Zev left the question fairly open ended; he didn’t want her to feel that he was being too intrusive.
“Oh, quite the reverse. Uncle John’s lovely. Just surprised, is all.” Gemma smiled a little. “He was the fun uncle.” He’d taken her on walks in places she wasn’t supposed to be, bought her greasy food, and told her things that were probably far too adult for her age, but she loved him anyway.
“Oh dear. Did he give you beer when you were tiny? I remember a nun that was the fun nun. Until she got removed.” He smiled sadly at that; he’d always missed her.
“Not tiny, but a trifle too young.” Twelve had been the age of her first beer. “In Britain, age’s when you can see over the bar, ‘course, but I couldn’t quite yet.” She smiled at the memory.
“Did you like it straight away? I only came to enjoy wine recently. I prefer sweets and spices.” He shrugged. “Spicy bloody Marys are more to my liking.”
“D’you know, I did. Good little Londoner. It’s our lifeblood.” Gemma smiled. “That was the pub where I wound up getting my first tending job.”
“That is a very sweet story about your country. You should stand and sing God Save the Queen now.” He didn’t know the words, but he’d slept with a lot of Brits.
“Don’t think I know the words.” Gemma raised one eyebrow in something that meant to pass for amusement.
“Oh, good, I’m not the only person without national pride.” Zev chuckled to himself.
“It ain’t about nation for me, it’s about bein’ able to survive. Though I do have the Brit’s instinctive dislike of all things froggy.” They were bloody French. French did tend to equal ponce.
“I am Spanish, you are all heathens,” he teased.
Gemma laughed. “Fair enough!” She got off her stool. “Look, maybe this is rude or pushy, but in Britain, we don’t make the blokes do the asking. Care to go for a drink some night when I’m not job hunting?” She was curious about if the sex would be decent, sure, but he did also just make her laugh. That was unusual.
That made his eyes go wide. “Yes, very much! Here.” He took out a pen and proceeded to write his number down on a napkin.
Gemma tucked it in her back pocket. “Ta.” She did the same, handing him the other napkin. “Just ring if the fancy strikes, I ‘spose.”
He put it into his billfold and nodded. “Likewise, Miss Gemma.”
“Probably will do.” Gemma smiled, sketching a salute as she headed off.