Dragon Knights Fan Fiction ❯ Dragon Knights Sentai ❯ Season Premiere ( Chapter 4 )
All eyes on us! - the cast assemble to show off their baby to the world.
Or
Countdown until there's an accident during the stunt choreography: Rath v Bierrez.
Anime/Manga: Dragon Knights Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Comedy | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.25.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 2.7K | Visits: 383 | Status: Work In Progress
Future updates shouldn't take so long.
This was held back in order to rework the Cernozura and Ruwalk-ness. If you've any suggestions, please take notes and hand them up at the end of class. Believe me, the connection was far worse, thanks to a sucky POV error.
Anyhow, there's nothing to warn against in this chapter - they're just becoming more friendly and in Rath's case, unfriendly.
The trouble started when the first fight scene was filmed. Stage three on the Dragoon Pictures lot had been turned into an underground cave, completely with slimy stalagmites and glistening pools of water. As in all films, this underground lair was astonishingly brightly lit from just a few flickering torches and several thousand watt bulbs.
There was still hammering and banging going on while the legion of werewolf extras, (three actors and several teddy bears) were led through their paces by the fight co-ordinator, a strapping young lad called Bierrez. He'd worked out a frenetic piece of swordplay with the werewolves and was trying to show it to Rath when the arguments started.
"I've done lots of sword-fighting with my tutor," the actor began, flourishing his sword and stepping out into the centre of the stage. "I expect that I'll carry the fight scenes for the rest of the group."
Rune nodded eagerly. His sword was held awkwardly and his cheeks were still flushed from attempts to stab the air with conviction. Standing near him, Thatz took a break from eating an apple and shrugged.
Bierrez nodded, blew some hair out of his eyes and ran through the steps he'd developed.
Rath responded by rolling his eyes. "No," he snapped. "In this situation I'd use Grippa." He flourished the sword and pounced forward. "Look at the rocks! Your style is completely wrong."
"Your style is also completely wrong," snarled Bierrez, trying his version again. "You're not supposed to be a swashbuckler; the director said that you were more of a brawler with passion and no restraint."
"How can you be a knight without training in swordplay and how can you learn swordplay without studying Grippa?" drawled Rath.
"Oh yeah?" countered Bierrez, lunging forward and aiming a slice at the air in front of Rath. The Fire Dragon Knight leaped out of range, snarled and counter-attacked. Their swords came together with a mighty THUCK. Rath lowered his and rapped it with his knuckles.
"It's wood!" he exclaimed.
"You weren't seriously expecting live steel?" asked Bierrez, putting up his own sword and standing back.
Rath nodded and Bierrez replied scornfully. "You can't trust actors to use real weaponry. They might hurt someone!"
"What about the cling noises from the old Errol Flynn films?" asked Rath, sticking to his guns.
"Those sound effects are added later by foley artists," the stunt co-ordinator replied, trying to fold his arms without dropping the sword and giving up.
"All right," sighed Rath, swinging his sword at a fake rock and denting it. "Let's try it your way."
Five hours later they were still arguing.
"No!" shouted Bierrez, waving his hands to his left. "Aim to the left of his head! To the left!"
"But then I completely miss him," wailed Rath, as a werewolf cowered at his feet.
"Exactly!" screamed Bierrez.
"That makes no sense!" he responded, flinging his sword out. The werewolf - saved from a nasty bruise by dropping to the ground - clamped a hand to his chest as Rath stamped up to Bierrez.
"It's television," replied Bierrez, picking up a rock and exposing the hollow innards. "It's not real."
Rath poked Bierrez in the chest with his wooden sword."I miss him by a mile!" he moaned.
"Look," said the stunt co-ordinator, pushing the sword to the side and using it to point to Gow. "The camera will film you from over there. From that angle, the fight will look more real than an actual fight. Now just do as I tell you, no-one will get hurt and it will look good."
"This isn't as much fun as I thought it would be," grumped Rath, stalking back to his mark.
"As a matter of interest," said Bierrez, wearily. "Was your tutor a martial artist, or a specialist for film and television?"
"He was one of the top fencers in the country last year," replied Rath.
"Ah," muttered Bierrez. "Amateurs."
The extras filed out past Ruwalk and Cernozura, nursing several injuries and sprouting splinters. One had an arm splinted with a broken sword and Ruwalk couldn't stop staring at him until he turned the corner and went out of sight.
"It seems to be going well. Do you think it's going well?" stammered Cernozura. She goggled as Bierrez threw a bucketful of battered swords onto a nearby skip and slouched off again.
"Apart from the fight scenes," said Ruwalk, jerking his thumb at the injured actors. She blanched and he grasped her arm and squeezed gently. "The script's good; the crew - gathered at short notice - is good; the actors are good; the main players are happy, except for Alfeegi, but I've heard that he's never satisfied with anything and that the day he smiles is a day that will be celebrated by everyone he's ever worked with." Ruwalk held up the paper bag in his hand as though it were a weapon and both of them turned around, checking for the touchiest man in television. With the coast clear, he continued. "In fact, everything's going really well and we should be all set for the premiere next week."
"I'll be sure to tune in," joked Cernozura. She blushed. "Despite all the stress and worries about getting the scripts done, I'm getting quite excited about it."
Ruwalk ducked his head and the headphones that were draped around his neck banged against his lapels. "With Lykouleon, everything moves so fast that there's no time for nerves." He shook his head a few times, nearly catching himself in the eye with his dangling headphones. "Otherwise I'd be stressed more about the viewing party." He stopped and held out a hand to his companion. "You do know about the plan, right, because we're all going to watch it together."
"What a wonderful idea!" she squealed, clapping her hands together. "Is Dragoon Pictures throwing a bash for us somewhere? Some companies can be really appalling. I only found out that Romance Academy had aired when flicking through the channels while I was supposed to be finishing up episode six."
"No," Ruwalk replied, walking on. "The boss is planning a big, gala event." He took several more steps without realising that she'd stopped. "He's really pushing this show and has booked a theatre for the first screening." He looked to his left and found only an empty space. Checking around, he noticed her a few steps back, shaking. She laughed, he nodded, she laughed louder and he restated the facts. "He's invited every name in his book and there'll be a red carpet and paparazzi... everything!"
Cernozura's laugh cut off. They remained still, the silence broken by her increasingly rapid and wheezy breathing. "No," she cried.
"It's okay," said Ruwalk, reaching out a hesitant hand. "It'll be mostly industry... some minor television stars ... some film actors... a few pop stars, liggers and the like."
Her face turned red and she doubled over. Ruwalk emptied the paper bag - his lunch tumbling to the ground - and handed it to her. She held it against her mouth and wheezed in and out. "I can't. I don't have... I've never... I can't afford... A dress! I don't even have a dress! Where would I find...? And how would it...? And what do...? Pictures?"
"Calm down. It'll be all right," Ruwalk reassured her. The colour stayed in her cheeks; her breathing was still frantic. He swallowed. "I've never done one of these things either, but it'll be okay. I'll help you."
"Can you help?" asked Cernozura, finally running out of puff.
"Dressing people is my job," he pointed out, before grabbing her for a big hug. She stiffened, but soon relaxed in his embrace. "I have the biggest make-up kit in the world and I'll even help you pick out a dress."
"Thanks," sniffed Cernozura, holding on tightly, "but I really don't have enough money to pay for a swanky outfit."
"It won't cost you a penny," promised the wardrobe specialist. "Hide the tag and I'll return it after the party. If I have to sew your dress myself, you'll look fabulous at the ball!"
Cernozura stood frozen in front of the full-length mirror. The sequins sparkled in the light: surely the colour was too scarlet for a simple scriptwriter and wasn't it cut too low? She jiggled, but her breasts didn't fall out.
"I can't pull this off," she worried, tugging at the neck-line. "A tasteful level of clevage is much higher than this."
A knock sounded on the dressing-room door.
"Are you ready?" called Ruwalk.
"Oh dear," muttered Cernozura. Her hands slid up and down the slinky dress. "It does look nice, but I can't go out in public like this. I'll fall out! He'll see that and then he'll stop picking out these... these..." Her glance fell on the discarded gowns. They ran the gamut from traditional ball-gown to kimono, all colours of the rainbow. Ruwalk had discarded them without a word. All Cernozura had cared about was how long she'd been on her feet and how sore they'd gotten, although she'd spent a lot of time eyeing herself in the red dress. "It looks so pretty."
The knock sounded again and she let him in.
"Wow," he said, his eyes following her curves. Her hands moved stiffly to her sides and she smiled weakly. He walked up to the mirror and slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. "We don't look too bad together." They stayed like that until she nodded, when he suddenly let go and started fussing with her dress. Cernozura checked out their reflection. Ruwalk wore a very snazzy tuxedo, which he must have picked out and put on while she was getting dressed herself. Her knees went suddenly weak.
"Can you wear heels?" he asked and she nodded in response. "Hmm, he said, looking into the mirror. "Hang on." He reached up and undid her usual bun, storing the hairclips he removed in his mouth. No sooner was her hair down, than he began to pin it back up, teasing one or two strands, which fell down either side of her face. She blushed.
"Okay," he said, when he'd finished, and he turned to the mirror again. Cernozura's hair was messy, but somehow, it worked.
"If I tried that, I'd just look awful," she muttered, turning her head left and right.
Ruwalk smiled and ducked his head. "We're not done yet. Can you go up on tip toes?" he asked, his glance flicking from her reflection to her feet. "Lower, lower, perfect. Two inch heels and we're a dashing couple."
"Couple?" she restated, stepping back and getting a better view of his face.
"I don't expect you to get yourself ready," he laughed. "I'm not abandoning you, when you've already said that you can't do your hair like that. I'll come over, an hour before we have to leave, put up your hair, do your make-up and we'll head off together."
"You're very kind," she mumbled, before turning her attention to the mirror and smiling at her slinky self.
"It's nice to dress something other than sticky boys," he replied, with a cheeky grin.
The cameras flashed for everyone who stepped onto the carpet. Kai-Stern breezed past the snappers; Tetheus stopped and posed for several pictures before plodding into the venue; Alfeegi froze as soon as he stepped out of the car and had to be prodded down the carpet by Kharl the Alchemist who grabbed his arm and waved airily at the paparazzi. Lykouleon's private car drove past, warned by the ushers that his entrance wouldn't be glamourous enough with a stage-struck production manager blocking the path. He lost his space to Ruwalk and Cernozura, who chatted the entire length of the carpet and barely noticed the photographers at all.
The flashes ramped up a notch when the three knights piled out of their limo. Each of them had come in costume, although Rune looked quite embarrassed and sidled along quickly, his wig askew. Thatz swaggered to the door, his dragonsword cradled on the back of his neck like a milkmaid carrying heavy pails, or a prisoner lashed to a stick. Rath stalked the carpet alongside him, glowering when the light got in his eyes and a million copy writers thought up cute names for the trio: Quiet Knight, Fun Knight and Angry Knight.
The last arrival was Lykouleon, the executive producer of the series. He bowed deeply once he'd clambered out of his limo, acknowledging the photographers to his left and right, before extending a hand back into the limousine. He pulled out a delicate hand, which grew an arm and finally revealed itself as one part of Lady Raseleane. The paparazzi went crazy. She unfurled from the car and when she reached her full height leaned up on dainty toes to give a soft peck to Lykouleon. They posed until every snapper had at least one decent set of prints and wended their way up the red carpet, stopping at intervals to pose as required.
"I thought we were coming together: me and him. I left my gameboy in his car," spluttered Rath, watching their approach on one of the televisions inside the theatre. "Stupid idiot wouldn't let me pick it up. God knows when he'll be home. He's a thoughtless, inconsiderate fool and I hate him. He hates me too."
Thatz muttered something comforting, but his words were muffled by the vast amount of food in his mouth. Instead, he patted Rath on the back and dragged him over to the savoury counter, before swiping a glass of wine from one of the trays that were being carried around by uniformed waiters.
"I don't care," shouted Alfeegi into his cellphone. His free hand rescued the wine from Thatz and he took a sip. "When I hired you, you promised me that there'd be eight people on duty at this thing, yet I still have an empty uniform. Now if you want to be paid in full, then you'll need to give me another body - I don't care if you have to do it yourself."
The guests mingled, laughed, talked and drank until a light chime indicated that the feature was about to begin. A red-faced man in an ill-fitting uniform directed the guests to their seats and before long the lobby was empty. The production staff were seated together and Cernozura clenched Ruwalk's hand as the titles rose on Dragon Knights Sentai. The feature opened with three knights walking down a road.
"Nadil's head," said Screen Rath.
Lykouleon leaned in and whispered into Tetheus's ear. "The censor passed it?"
"I guess he dislikes Nadil as much as you do," he replied, before filling his mouth with popcorn and munching away.
Thank you for reading. I hope you liked it. All feedback is appreciated, especially romance oriented Ruwalk and Cernozura suggestions, so please click on the review button.