Ah... and the madness machine just keeps chugging. Scared yet? You should be.
_______________________________________
Trigun: Way Too Far Behind the Scenes
_______________________________________
"Here it is," I affirmed with a small gesture to the star-shaped nameplate on the door. "Dominique the Cyclops's dressing room." Logan nodded with disinterest, his eyes drifting elsewhere.
"Focus!" I barked, snapping him back to attention. He grunted as he grudgingly turned on the camera. His eyelids drooped sleepily.
"Uh... are you okay?" I questioned, taking notice of the sagging rings beneath his eyes.
"Not really," he slurred drowsily. "I haven't been sleeping well ever since our first attempt at interviewing Legato... you know... the thing with the hot dog and the boxer shorts and the hand in the mouth and... agh, it haunts my dreams! I can still see it when I close my eyes!" I replied to his agonized ranting by arching and unsympathetic eyebrow.
"Don't worry," I assured him. "This interview will probably give you all-new nightmares! Plus, this ones a girl!" I added with a suggestive wink. He blinked twice at me, scowling slightly.
"I'm too tired to even think about that."
"Well, you might just reconsider." With that, I knocked twice on the door. There was a distinct "Come on in." I obeyed, setting the door ajar and peering into the room. It seemed to be desserted. There was no sign of anyone there.
"Um... Dominique? Are you here? I don't see..."
And then she appeared out of thin air six inches from my face.
"OH SWEET MOTHER OF CRAP!" In shock and horror, I staggered backwards into Logan, sending him sprawling to the floor. Flailing desperately to regain my balance, I tripped over his outstretched right arm. I toppled back into the hall, landing with a thud that I'm sure was clearly audible throughout the studio. Dominique scoffed quietly and smirked. I managed to get a good look at her. She was tall, at least six feet. Her hair went down a bit below her shoulders and was a shade of deceptively serene lavender. A wide-brimmed tan hat adorned her head. She wore a tan trenchcoat with slacks and a tasteful dress shirt underneath. I also noticed that she wore a steel eyepatch over her right eye. And if I do say so myself, she was actually quite pretty. I noticed that Logan perked up visibly at the sight of her. Obviously he was seeing exactly what I was.
Logan heaved sluggishly to his feet, never taking his eyes off Dominique, while I quickly scrambled back up.
And then she disappeared again.
My eyes darted to each end of the room, trying to see her, and then I spotted her, sitting in plain sight, right at the table.
"How does she do that?" Logan asked, astonished.
"Your guess is as good as mine," I answered, seating myself on the opposite end of the table.
"Well, Ms... um... what's your..."
"Dominique. Just Dominique," she interrupted.
"Alright then. I'm Sam, and that's Logan. We're here from General Idiocy Publications, and we're here to interview the cast of Trigun. We'd just like to ask you a few questions.
"If you insist," she said with a tiny, surprisingly genuine laugh.
"Okay. How do you do that crazy teleporting... thing that you do?"
"I'm glad that you asked that. You see this eyepatch here? Well do you know what's under the eyepatch?" I shook my head. With a smirk, she pressed a tiny button on the eyepatch, and the two interlocking metallic panels slid apart, revealing her right eye, which was bright red.
"This is my Demon's Eye. Knives had it surgically put in. Its an implant that emits a extremely low-frequency signal that slows brainwaves and reaction time. I'm not teleporting. I just appear to be moving so quickly that you don't see me. In fact, I'm moving at quite normal speed. This is also how I got the nickname "Cyclops." She casually closed the eyepatch again.
"I see. Now..."
"I've got a question of my own," Logan suddenly interrupted. "Do you have a boyfriend?" I whirled in surprise at hearing this.
"The things that lack of sleep will do to people," I thought to myself.
Dominique sighed and lowered her eyes, blushing visibly. "Well... technically no... but..." she turned and gazed longingly at a photograph of Legato on her dresser. I noticed a few lipstick smudges on it that bore a suspicious resemblance to Dominique's own color of lipstick. Logan blinked twice and suddenly freaked.
"What?! How could you possibly like that freakshow?! He's friggin' nuts! What about ME?! I'm strong and handsome and very manly!" Apparently the sleeplessness was affecting his judgement as well as his inhibitions. He seemed perfectly able to tell a barefaced lie. What's more, I think he actually thought he was telling the truth.
Dominique didn't seem to hear any of this. She just continued to muse over her cobalt-haired crush. "He's just so strong and mellow and... cute!" At this point, Logan started foaming at the mouth, so I took it unto myself to confiscate his camera and record the rest of the interview myself. Not that there was much, since I had to drag Logan off kicking and screaming to avoid an incident... er... more of an incident. The term "restraining-order" suddenly came to mind.
Safely outside the studio, Logan starte bawling.
"What is she thinking?!" he cried. "What could she possibly see in him and not me?!" Needless to say, I refrained from answering that question. Instead I thumbed the pages on my clipboard and found our next interview.
"Ah. Here we go. Meryl Stryfe."
__________________________________
And if you're wondering, yes, Logan is based off a friend of mine by the same name. I made him the cameraman because he and I often worked together on short films in video class. I'll never forget the Matrix thing with the slow-motion and the punching and the stuff and... never mind. _
More to come so don't touch that dial... er... back button.
_______________________________________
Trigun: Way Too Far Behind the Scenes
_______________________________________
"Here it is," I affirmed with a small gesture to the star-shaped nameplate on the door. "Dominique the Cyclops's dressing room." Logan nodded with disinterest, his eyes drifting elsewhere.
"Focus!" I barked, snapping him back to attention. He grunted as he grudgingly turned on the camera. His eyelids drooped sleepily.
"Uh... are you okay?" I questioned, taking notice of the sagging rings beneath his eyes.
"Not really," he slurred drowsily. "I haven't been sleeping well ever since our first attempt at interviewing Legato... you know... the thing with the hot dog and the boxer shorts and the hand in the mouth and... agh, it haunts my dreams! I can still see it when I close my eyes!" I replied to his agonized ranting by arching and unsympathetic eyebrow.
"Don't worry," I assured him. "This interview will probably give you all-new nightmares! Plus, this ones a girl!" I added with a suggestive wink. He blinked twice at me, scowling slightly.
"I'm too tired to even think about that."
"Well, you might just reconsider." With that, I knocked twice on the door. There was a distinct "Come on in." I obeyed, setting the door ajar and peering into the room. It seemed to be desserted. There was no sign of anyone there.
"Um... Dominique? Are you here? I don't see..."
And then she appeared out of thin air six inches from my face.
"OH SWEET MOTHER OF CRAP!" In shock and horror, I staggered backwards into Logan, sending him sprawling to the floor. Flailing desperately to regain my balance, I tripped over his outstretched right arm. I toppled back into the hall, landing with a thud that I'm sure was clearly audible throughout the studio. Dominique scoffed quietly and smirked. I managed to get a good look at her. She was tall, at least six feet. Her hair went down a bit below her shoulders and was a shade of deceptively serene lavender. A wide-brimmed tan hat adorned her head. She wore a tan trenchcoat with slacks and a tasteful dress shirt underneath. I also noticed that she wore a steel eyepatch over her right eye. And if I do say so myself, she was actually quite pretty. I noticed that Logan perked up visibly at the sight of her. Obviously he was seeing exactly what I was.
Logan heaved sluggishly to his feet, never taking his eyes off Dominique, while I quickly scrambled back up.
And then she disappeared again.
My eyes darted to each end of the room, trying to see her, and then I spotted her, sitting in plain sight, right at the table.
"How does she do that?" Logan asked, astonished.
"Your guess is as good as mine," I answered, seating myself on the opposite end of the table.
"Well, Ms... um... what's your..."
"Dominique. Just Dominique," she interrupted.
"Alright then. I'm Sam, and that's Logan. We're here from General Idiocy Publications, and we're here to interview the cast of Trigun. We'd just like to ask you a few questions.
"If you insist," she said with a tiny, surprisingly genuine laugh.
"Okay. How do you do that crazy teleporting... thing that you do?"
"I'm glad that you asked that. You see this eyepatch here? Well do you know what's under the eyepatch?" I shook my head. With a smirk, she pressed a tiny button on the eyepatch, and the two interlocking metallic panels slid apart, revealing her right eye, which was bright red.
"This is my Demon's Eye. Knives had it surgically put in. Its an implant that emits a extremely low-frequency signal that slows brainwaves and reaction time. I'm not teleporting. I just appear to be moving so quickly that you don't see me. In fact, I'm moving at quite normal speed. This is also how I got the nickname "Cyclops." She casually closed the eyepatch again.
"I see. Now..."
"I've got a question of my own," Logan suddenly interrupted. "Do you have a boyfriend?" I whirled in surprise at hearing this.
"The things that lack of sleep will do to people," I thought to myself.
Dominique sighed and lowered her eyes, blushing visibly. "Well... technically no... but..." she turned and gazed longingly at a photograph of Legato on her dresser. I noticed a few lipstick smudges on it that bore a suspicious resemblance to Dominique's own color of lipstick. Logan blinked twice and suddenly freaked.
"What?! How could you possibly like that freakshow?! He's friggin' nuts! What about ME?! I'm strong and handsome and very manly!" Apparently the sleeplessness was affecting his judgement as well as his inhibitions. He seemed perfectly able to tell a barefaced lie. What's more, I think he actually thought he was telling the truth.
Dominique didn't seem to hear any of this. She just continued to muse over her cobalt-haired crush. "He's just so strong and mellow and... cute!" At this point, Logan started foaming at the mouth, so I took it unto myself to confiscate his camera and record the rest of the interview myself. Not that there was much, since I had to drag Logan off kicking and screaming to avoid an incident... er... more of an incident. The term "restraining-order" suddenly came to mind.
Safely outside the studio, Logan starte bawling.
"What is she thinking?!" he cried. "What could she possibly see in him and not me?!" Needless to say, I refrained from answering that question. Instead I thumbed the pages on my clipboard and found our next interview.
"Ah. Here we go. Meryl Stryfe."
__________________________________
And if you're wondering, yes, Logan is based off a friend of mine by the same name. I made him the cameraman because he and I often worked together on short films in video class. I'll never forget the Matrix thing with the slow-motion and the punching and the stuff and... never mind. _
More to come so don't touch that dial... er... back button.