InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Drink up me hearties, yo ho!"

Jon Snow (blackestsnow) wrote in valarlogs,
@ 2013-04-09 20:59:00

Entry tags:

!complete, jon snow, robb stark, zelda

RP: Recess
Who: Zelda, Robb Stark, Jon Snow
When: 9 April 2013
Where: Craft Services, Red Gum Studios, Anaheim
Rating: Low. Some foul British speak, as usual.
Status: Complete

They were being more careful now, sticking to the daylight rather than sneaking off set every spare moment to get one off in Jon's trailer or Robb's office. After last week's oddness at the club and all the gossip about Jon's "secret girlfriend" they'd agreed to be more professional, at least while at work.

"Cautious," Jon had said. Robb called it "Boring" but Jon had thrown him against the window above Robb's breakfast nook and forced him to stand before the unknowing neighbourhood while just below the sill Jon proved how very interesting it could be.

That had settled the matter, at least until shooting concluded and Jon could move out of his family's house and tell his father that yes, he was gay and yes, there was a special someone. Robb was going nowhere anytime soon and out of respect for his father, Eddard deserved a little warning should he desire to task one of his employees to handle tasteless prints because Jon was about through living in the closet for the sake of the family name.

A name he did not have the privilege to carry.

He wasn't ever going to inherit the title. Not unless there was a catastrophic accident and in that case a gay bastard Lord would be better than no Lord at all.

Reaching over unannounced, Jon liberated a golden crisp from Robb's plate. There were plenty on his own dish but the sea salt and tangy vinegar tasted so much better off his boyfriend's platter than his own.

Just one of Jon's many subtle ways of saying in public, Thinking about you over here, when a kiss or even a brush of the hands was too blatant for all the prying eyes at craft services.

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noredwedding
2013-04-10 04:10 am UTC (link)

Smiling around a bite of cold pasta salad, Robb returned the favor by giving Jon's knee a gentle nudge. The action to the casual observer nothing more than an accidental bump, but it spoke volumes between the two men. Food getting filched from his plate would've happened anyway, regardless of whether or not Jon felt all ants-in-the-pants about afternoon quickies these days and needed to reaffirm their connection.

Little by little, Rob was bending for Jon in and outside of the bedroom, and while out in public being so flexible often came begrudgingly, he could understand, to a small degree, the burden Jon Snow carried. He wasn't just another commoner, no matter what his mother's name was on the birth notice. And although they were many, many miles from the long arm of Fleet Street, gossip rags still had the power to make a person's life really miserable. One misplaced step could mean disaster, especially now that the Wild Hunt to find Jon's 'lady love' was on, coupled with the high-rolling and equally high-maintenance 'star attraction' joining the cast of their relatively small-scale film production.

Robb didn't have to like it, but for now he could live with their agreement.

One day there won't be all these rules and restrictions, he thought, stabbing his fork at a few noodles and a big chunk of sun dried tomato instead of snogging Jon senseless like he wanted. And when that time comes I'll tear a strip off Jon so wide his unborn children will feel it.

Pondering the intricacies of exactly how he would pull this feat off, Robb looked up from his plate right as a sudden bright splash of color loomed in his peripheral.

Speak of the Prada-wearing Devil herself.

Without batting an eyelash, Robb fired off a warning to Jon under his breath. "Bedlam at three o'clock and heading our way..."

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hylianruler
2013-04-10 04:11 am UTC (link)

The bright splash of color was one Zelda Hyrule, the newest addition to the film’s cast. As Jon and Robb were well aware, she was taking the role of the lead actress, who'd left the production due to... well, Zelda had only heard rumors about how terrible she was when she was around. It made her resolve to be the complete opposite of a Primadonna. (Which wouldn't be hard. Zelda wasn't like that at all.)

She was wearing a huge grin as she approached the guys' table, and slipped into a chair opposite where they were sitting. All she had in her hands was a notebook and a pen, as she was far too excited to eat anything. She spoke gently, but there was a tone of excitement in her voice. It was as if she was bursting inside, but just barely containing her enthusiasm.

"So, about this horseback riding thing," she said, without introducing herself or even saying hello. It was her way of avoiding wasting time. There was a warm and friendly smile on her features, though, and her body language was completely open. "I'm hoping that maybe we can schedule a training session. I haven't been on a horse in almost a decade, and I want to make sure that I'm prepared for next week."

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blackestsnow
2013-04-10 04:17 am UTC (link)

Too late to run now...

Though their paths had not truly crossed beyond a brief introduction last Thursday afternoon - The entire production staff and crew were called an extra ten minute break in order to welcome their newest cast member. A brief, wonderful respite from the sudden nagging over Jon's scratching post of a chest as all eyes turned away from sexual scandal and towards stardom in the form of one pink-as-poodle socialite. - Robb and Jon had already made up their collective minds about Bedlam.

Rich. Gorgeous. Famous for nothing. A dog in every purse and a handout on every corner. Zelda could be the nicest person in the world but until she proved her talents beyond an ability to breathe and smile at the same time it was the Hollywood brushoff for her.

There was abso-bloody-fuck-all in her CV to suggest she had worked as an actress or even held an interest in the arts before a week ago. Jon had checked, thanks much. Waving a blank print of paper as proof under the nose of his equally catty boyfriend as they'd shared few pints Sunday night, Jon concluding in his ever sophisticated English fashion that Bedlam simply wasn't qualified for such an undertaking and was there not someone else in the ranks they could call up to service?

Stilettos and spurs simply did not mix.

Zelda was just another right time, right face, right name business move that made Jon long for the simplicity of cut-throat theatrical meat-markets.

In a way which Jon vehemently detested, the entire production staff was in her debt simply for saying Yes! Why, I'd love to be a movie star! She'd bailed them out of a tight jam, saved all their jobs. Kept Jon in the country.

Now she was sitting at their lunch table making flirty, kindly gestures in Robb’s direction.

Brilliant.

Flicking dark eyes beneath a creased brow, Jon nonverbally passed the conversation off to Robb pointedly saying in a language his boyfriend was sure to understand, I've nothing to say on the matter. Best of luck to you, old boy.

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noredwedding
2013-04-10 04:20 am UTC (link)

Message received loud and clear, Robb did a bit of mental eyerolling at Jon's behavior, wanting very much to give a kick to that very same leg he'd just nudged so affectionately. Thanks a ruddy lot, Jon.

Jon was totally judging the woman, and had been judging her since the moment the studio signed on Bedlam to pull their collective fannies out of the fire. The lager-fueled backbiting that comprised their sizing up of their newest addition to the production had gone far beyond sneering derisively over a sorely lacking CV. Already labeled and categorized, Zelda could be in line right behind Princess Eugenie for the throne of Great Britain but in Jon's very unwavering opinion, she was a stilettoed slag barely worth noticing.

Slag in stilettos or not, one of them was going to have to at least make an attempt at being polite, and not turn their nose up like it had a really foul smell under it. That task fell on Robb's shoulders, since she'd directly addressed him in his capacity as an animal trainer there was simply no way round it.

Lucky him.

Placing fork to plate and napkin atop that, Robb nudged the whole thing out of the way. Lunch was over for him, it seemed.

"So tell me, Zelda," he began, plastering on a cordial smile, because honey always worked better than vinegar, he'd found. "Do you know how to ride Western style?"

An honest question, and information he needed to know before any arrangements for a lesson were made. The tack was completely different than the English style that Robb guessed she was more familiar with, as was the way a rider positioned themselves: sitting to the jog instead of posting. All important knowledge for the rider to possess. Having their newly-acquired box office draw fall arse over teakettle from a horse just simply wouldn't do.

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hylianruler
2013-04-10 04:22 am UTC (link)

Judging was something that Zelda was getting a lot of on the set, so it seemed. Robb and Jon weren't the only ones who were giving her the saccharine sweetness that she clearly understood as false friendliness. (Or, worse, the cold shoulder.) A couple people had been warm and genuinely friendly, but for the most part she hadn't felt very welcome. She was doing her best to not let it get to her. She fully understood that she had to prove her worth, and she fully intended to.

Zelda was just thankful to have been given the chance. Honestly, this wasn't what she had in mind at all when her PR Rep signed her on for acting classes and to meet with Casting Directors. Zelda had assumed she would have a couple of one-liners on sitcoms, a couple of walk-on parts where she didn't have to say or do much while she studied acting. It seems that her people had something else entirely in mind.

But the more she thought about it, the more it seemed to be a mutually beneficial situation. She brought in a little (admittedly undeserving) star power to the project, and in return was given a chance to explore her acting chops. Win-win.

Her smile was small, shy. She carried the tone of a humble young girl, because that's what she was. She knew her limitations, and wasn't about to try and lie to make herself seem ... bigger. Better. That wasn’t her style. "I'm more familiar with English, to be honest. Dressage and Polo. I used to ride and play more at the Club when I was younger. But I've logged a few hours on a Western saddle in my day."

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blackestsnow
2013-04-10 04:33 am UTC (link)

Interest peaked at polo, Jon sat up a little straighter, nudging Robb in the process beneath the table with a discreet knee. More silent communication of the Did you hear that? variety.

Polo was an extremely important note to latch onto and Jon was slightly miffed it hadn't been on her CV from the start.

A team sport, polo required clear communication and a bright head fully capable of processing zipping information. It was extremely dangerous, probably the full reason Jon had latched onto the game as a lad in the first place, where every rule in book existed to keep players atop their horses and not beneath sixteen stomping metal hooves. Dressage Jon couldn't give a rat's tit about, but for the polo he was prepared to tip the scales in Bedlam's favour.

If she could survive a match it meant there was more between her ears than a lot of hairspray.

Polo ponies were quick, responsive creatures. Great under pressure and difficult to excite, trained to respond to a single hand on the reins and their jockey's legs and weight for cues. Moving forward, stopping, turning and slowing; all aspects adopted into the Western school of riding and some of the major differences from its English cousin. A good horsemen could ride either and with a background in polo if Zelda had even a speck of talent the transition would go smoothly.

Most film horses were retired polo ponies, anyway, eighteen to twenty years old and slightly head shy. Made for actors too delicate to even dress themselves.

As long as the beautifully trained Koso remained Jon's horse, he felt perhaps this one thing could be a good bonding point. Provided Zelda could make the swap. If not, then they would know for sure she was nothing but a pretty face.

Fingers traveling across the table, Jon snatched Robb’s abandoned plate and fork, pulling off the napkin and going for the remainder of his pasta salad.

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noredwedding
2013-04-10 04:35 am UTC (link)

Having grown up middle class on an island in the Firth of Clyde, Robb really couldn't get all that excited over whether Bedlam played polo or cricket or whatever else she got up to at the club. It was just so far out of his scope of reality, and the reality of all but a miniscule percentage of the population. Breathing air far too rarefied to survive on unless your blood was a particular azure shade or daddy could buy and sell Donald Trump five times over with just his walking-around money.

Judging by his reaction, Jon was probably wetting his knickers right now at the thought of talking shop and going all cow-eyed over... whatever it was people got excited about when it concerned the Sport of Kings. Comparing the size of their polo sticks or something equally as mind-numbingly tedious.

What did interest Robb, though, was that she'd at least ridden a horse. Point to Bedlam over Big and Large. The closest that pain in the arse had ever gotten to horseflesh before coming on set was while schmoozing the paparazzi at the Kentucky Derby. Or so she'd claimed.

"Well, that's a good start," he said, completely ignoring the greedy piglet pinching his abandoned meal. Anything that's not nailed down with that bloke, I swear.

"You'll need to be able to ride fast and hard when the time comes, so that's something we'll need to address. And I want there to be plenty of time in the saddle so both you and Tiggy can adjust to each other's temperaments and styles."

Zelda's assigned mount wasn't quite as nice as Koso, but the little chestnut mare was nowhere near getting shipped off to the glue factory. Carrying a much smaller rider would help, too. Big and Large hadn't been tagged as such by being a petite flower.

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hylianruler
2013-04-10 04:37 am UTC (link)

"Tiggy?" Zelda asked. For some reason, something inside her head told her to write that down. She opened up her notebook and jotted down a couple of notes. Tiggy. Ride fast and hard. Check. She could do that, if shown how and given enough practice. Though she knew her current limitations, Zelda was a firm believer in hard work. (Funny, coming from her background. She’d never had to work a day in her life, but when she chose to do something, she threw herself all in and worked her ass off.) She knew that if she was taught something by a competent teacher, and was given enough time and instruction to practice, she could learn anything. She wasn't wrong. Zelda was a quick study, not bad for someone who sometimes acted as ditzy as Jessica Simpson. (That was good for her image, says the PR Rep. Keep expectations low.)

The stealing of food from one to the other did not go unnoticed. These two seemed less like coworkers and more like friends. It was intimidating if she was perfectly honest. But Zelda had been up against worse.

"I'm hoping that we can schedule some of that time in the saddle soon." She had a lot of research to do. Western saddles, Western riding, she jotted those things down in her notebook, too. Things to think about tonight when she was home on her own in front of her computer. "I don't think I'm scheduled for any riding until late next week, do you think we'll have enough time to get familiar with one another by then?" There was a possibility of rescheduling, but she hoped they wouldn’t have to. She knew nothing about how far the previous actress had come on a horse, and was sincerely hoping that she could catch up in her off time.

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blackestsnow
2013-04-10 04:39 am UTC (link)

... familiar with one another... Jon finished chewing, swallowed, then shoved another bite between pouty lips lest his mouth free up to let slip a verbal warning.

Best be talking about Tiggy there, Bedlam, because the Pict is off market.

Whereas Robb could lounge back comfortably and watch amusedly as dead bodies piled beneath Jon's feet after each failed attempt to chat him up, the reverse was not true. Having a bisexual boyfriend turned the world into one massive trap with half the population of attractive prospectives at an unfair advantage. If and when the day finally came Robb decided he wanted a wife and redheaded bairns of his own, even just a pair of breasts to snuggle up against rather than hard muscles and a scritchy beard, Jon had no recourse. Offering to "change his ways" was not exactly an option he was willing to consider.

To make a mountain out of a barrow, Robb was also twitchy. Distant shores and half empty glasses, green gardens always healthier on the other side of the sexual divide or some such rubbish.

And Zelda was beautiful. Stunningly so. Perhaps a little wide-jawed for a woman but she wore the feature well, highlighted by a smile contending with Robb’s for most inviting. Her eyes were a slated but still cozy-warm blue, impeccably styled hair naturally blonde (a rarity in Southern California) and she wore, remarkably, tasteful makeup. Perfect skin, pearly straight teeth and a fit figure with such a petite waist Robb probably could have circled it with both hands and still been able to overlap a knuckle or two.

Even Jon could logically sense the appeal.

Time to rejoin the fray, then, he mustered, finishing the last of the pasta salad and replacing napkin and fork atop the plate.

'Robb's a brilliant instructor. He'll have you riding Tiggy in no time.'

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noredwedding
2013-04-10 04:42 am UTC (link)

Sighing inwardly, Robb could just feel the hackles rising up on Jon's neck. The tell-tale wave of frost radiating from his boyfriend that would've chilled him to the bone had he not been naturally able to withstand sudden blasts of arctic temperatures.

By now he was well used to Jon's bouts of moodiness and insecurity that often flared up for no real reason, and decided to deal with it in his usual way. Glancing over his shoulder, Robb raised his thick, expressive eyebrows and silently stated Blondes don't interest me in the slightest, you fretful twat, so just calm down.

Bedlam was attractive, no doubt of it. Why else would she have been brought on board but to blow some wind into a ship's lagging sails?

And anyway, Jon really had absolutely nothing at all to worry about, as Robb was quite content with hard muscles and scritchy beard and a whole slew of other perks that came with being Jon's better half and vice-versa. Didn't Jon know that already? What was he going to have to do, just shy of cutting his heart out and handing it to Jon on a golden platter, to convince him that yes he might look or chat up now and again, but nothing beyond?

If this kept up he might have to eventually take drastic measures to sure Jon up.

"I don't see why not." Robb had managed to get Big and Large sorted, so there was absolutely no reason that Zelda - an already experienced rider - couldn't do it in less than a third of the time. "If you're free for a bit this afternoon, I can at least show her to you. After that we can arrange some saddle time."

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hylianruler
2013-04-10 04:44 am UTC (link)

"That would be wonderful," Zelda said, sounding relieved. As much as she knew that she had to (and would) prove her worth around here, she also knew that she was going to need help living up to her full potential. As much as she wished she could be self-sufficient, she knew that she needed both Jon and Robb's help if she was going to look good on a horse and look good pulling the stunts that were written in the script.

Honestly, the horseback riding was low on her list of worries when it came to the things she was going to have to do in the film. She’d never been good at crying on command, and that was a big part of the climax. She was working with her acting coach on that, and was confident that she’d have it down in time. Breaking a bottle over someone's head? Looking realistic while shooting a pistol? Those were a little higher on her list of fears.

"I have time. I'm supposed to be finished with my last scene around two thirty, but if it goes the way the others have, I'm sure it'll be more like four o'clock. Would that work for you? Doesn't interrupt tea time, does it?" she asked, trying to be playful and friendly.

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noredwedding
2013-04-10 04:47 am UTC (link)

"Tea is traditionally earlier than that," Robb pointed out, an amused, smirky sort of smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Zelda was trying, he supposed, though she'd missed it by a few hours. Taking tea was sacred to people from the British Isles - for Jon especially, who nursed on the stuff like mother's milk all day long and into the wee hours. One of the few traditions they could still hold onto with relative ease after arriving in the States once they’d regained their land legs and acquired a box of Tetley.

Mindful that Jon was on high alert and would grow tetchy as hell as the hours wore on, Robb decided it might be best to include him in on this afternoon's little meet and greet with Tiggy. That way he could see for himself that absolutely no hanky-panky would ever occur between him and Bedlam and thus Jon would hopefully ease off the pedal of the Green-Eyed Monstermobile. This was all business and nothing more.

"Do you think you might have a chance to swing by then Jon? Just to give her some kind of idea of what's to come from your end of it."

Up went the eyebrows again, and with it a bright sparkle of blue.

Play nice with Bedlam today and I'll give you a reward both of us are sure to enjoy.

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blackestsnow
2013-04-10 04:47 am UTC (link)

Softening brown eyes yielded to the request and Jon nodded, at first believing the motion to be clear indication that he'd acquiesced. But Robb kept staring and a quick change in focus revealed both sets of blue eyes were firmly locked, pearly smiles equally as trapping and leaving Jon with no recourse but to "play nice" as Robb's unspoken gaze insisted.

I know what you're doing, McLellan, and I don't like it.

'Of course. If you think it will help,' he completed his second full sentence of the conversation, food no longer an appropriate excuse to remain quiet. 'I have a fairly tight schedule today but I could pop round for a few.'

Aside from torture, Jon wasn't entirely clear on why he was being asked to accompany; introducing Bedlam to Tiggy really only required Robb's presence, the animal trainer. Only one instance came to mind in which fight director Jon’s instruction might be necessary and he was really praying it wouldn't come down to unscripted punches flying.

Zelda seemed a sweet girl, if a bit out of her league. Better than Big and Large, at any rate.

And that's what set the pasta salad rolling in Jon's belly.

'Punch me a text when you're ready? I want to go ice this bunged muscle before they call us back.'

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hylianruler
2013-04-10 04:49 am UTC (link)

The amused, smirky smile that was threatening on Robb's features gave Zelda the tiniest touch of relief. Maybe he didn't hate her as much as she'd feared. Then again, maybe he was just playing along to lull her into a false sense of security, or appease her so she'd go and leave him alone. Anyway, she didn't want to impose too much. She was glad that her sudden appearance seemingly hadn't interrupted their lunch date.

"Great! I'm really looking forward to it. I have some questions for you, too, Jon, about how I'm supposed to break a bottle over someone's head." Somehow in some amazing feat of amazingness, Zelda had missed the little tidbit of information about how breakaway glass was made. She was honestly a little concerned that they used... perhaps real glass? Just really thin? She'd never put much thought into it, and now she needed to know. She didn’t want to hurt anyone.

"Anyway, I'll meet you guys back here at four." Zelda's smile brightened again. It was obvious that she was a genuinely happy and friendly girl, and was really just trying to make a good impression. She pulled herself up from the table and gave them a wave. "Thank you so much for the help. I'll see you soon." And she turned to head back toward the makeup trailer.

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