[Anaido is more than patient, just setting the things aside until he gets the remote.]
Hm. Watch! [And he clicks it on. Huh, "69 Tints of Orange"? Never heard of this one.] This is the magic, Dimitri. It's a bit complicated...but the stage is in the box.
And woah!! He starts, shoulders hopped up as the TV flickers on and a bunch of people show up on screen, the video track adding on top of the bus's OST. ]
Goodness— [ he's awed, then concerned, reaching out for the screen but not quite touching? like it's impolite. ] We didn't trap them in there, did we?
[He lets out a laugh, sliding back to plop himself into a beanbag chair.]
No, no, those aren't real people. Think of it as...hm. They are real, but someone made a picture of them. One picture after another. And then you watch them in sequence. They call that a "recording".
I see... [ He gets it as much as any medieval boy can. Or at least, he trusts Anaido enough to believe in, carefully sitting back onto one of the weird squishy chairs.
The girl on the screen—Caitlyn—is currently over at someone's very plush apartment. It's very 90s, not that he recognizes that. ]
It's a very elaborate play, then. Do you know what it's about? [ he just grabbed some box off the shelf ]
I don't think I've seen this movie before...then again, maybe I did, and I just forgot.
[This does seem like an older movie, he can recognize that.]
Ah, look, she's waiting for the one she loves. [And sure enough, here comes Mr. Orange himself, dressed in a nice suit. He approaches, brushing her hair back.] I guess this is a romance. How nice.
[ He already looks a little scandalized but it's. relatively mild. By now he's just trying to get used to the fact that not everyone grew up with expectations of courtly romance. It's fine. Mr. Orange looks deep into her eyes, the look they share is Scorching with Passion. ]
Ah, like an opera. [ except without music so not at all. the characters are talking without singing, obviously a little tense and charged ] They do seem quite infatuated with each other... [ good time to take a side long glance at Anaido ] Is this the sort of story you prefer? [ romance and intrigue? ]
its okay if you dont tag THIS IS OLD just wanted to catch-up ;;
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Hm. Watch! [And he clicks it on. Huh, "69 Tints of Orange"? Never heard of this one.] This is the magic, Dimitri. It's a bit complicated...but the stage is in the box.
no subject
And woah!! He starts, shoulders hopped up as the TV flickers on and a bunch of people show up on screen, the video track adding on top of the bus's OST. ]
Goodness— [ he's awed, then concerned, reaching out for the screen but not quite touching? like it's impolite. ] We didn't trap them in there, did we?
[ kidnapping is on his mind, unfortunately. ]
no subject
No, no, those aren't real people. Think of it as...hm. They are real, but someone made a picture of them. One picture after another. And then you watch them in sequence. They call that a "recording".
no subject
The girl on the screen—Caitlyn—is currently over at someone's very plush apartment. It's very 90s, not that he recognizes that. ]
It's a very elaborate play, then. Do you know what it's about? [ he just grabbed some box off the shelf ]
no subject
[This does seem like an older movie, he can recognize that.]
Ah, look, she's waiting for the one she loves. [And sure enough, here comes Mr. Orange himself, dressed in a nice suit. He approaches, brushing her hair back.] I guess this is a romance. How nice.
no subject
Ah, like an opera. [ except without music so not at all. the characters are talking without singing, obviously a little tense and charged ] They do seem quite infatuated with each other... [ good time to take a side long glance at Anaido ] Is this the sort of story you prefer? [ romance and intrigue? ]
its okay if you dont tag THIS IS OLD just wanted to catch-up ;;
[He actually manages to break his gaze with the TV, missing the kiss that Mr. Orange trails along the other's jaw.]
I'm not sure? I don't remember, but...romance has its nice qualities, I think. What kind of plays do you like, brother?