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greenportal) wrote2018-12-09 07:40 pm
The Battle
“So, that's why I won't be coming back to school,” Dusty said with a heavy sigh.
Mr. Zolli made a small clicking noise in the back of his throat, and looked down at his desk as he adjusted his glasses. “I'm terribly sorry to hear that, Dusty. I know you've been going through a difficult time, and this must have been a hard decision for you.”
Dusty wasn't sure how to respond besides a quiet, “Yeah.” He and Mr. Zolli were the only people in the room, and yet Dusty felt like there were hundreds of judgemental eyes watching him. Perhaps it was the video cameras stored all along the back tables and shelves of the room; he hoped none of them were accidentally recording. Perhaps it was the painted eyes on the various props that cluttered the walls of the room. There was a cardboard mural of a large crowd scene covering the windows that made Dusty particularly uneasy, or maybe it was the memories of helping Alber paint that massive backdrop that were hurting.
“I'm gonna miss your class the most,” Dusty said, “That's why I wanted to say goodbye to ya.”
The old, crow-like Avian couldn't offer a comforting smile with his stiff beak, but he did give Dusty a slight head-tilt that almost expressed the same emotion. “I'm going to miss you as well. You have incredible talent as a filmmaker, and I hope you find a way to continue your art. And, of course, good luck to you and your cousin.”
“Thank you, sir,” Dusty replied. His voice cracked slightly like he was about to cry.
Dusty brought home only what he could fit into the small cardboard box he had found. It was mostly books his friends had given him with small notes of encouragement written on the blank opening pages, but he also got copies of short films he had helped with, and a few small props with only sentimental value to them. As soon as he was home he began to unload the items into the wagon's only closet.
Dusty was so wrapped up in slowly unpacking and sorting through his things, that at first he simply tuned out the small clacking noise behind him. As it kept going it got louder and faster, and a familiar squeaking started to accompany it. By then Dusty couldn't ignore it any longer, and he turned to see Soup smacking at the playpen wall with his stubby hands.
“What's wrong, Soup? What're you doin'?”
“Awweh?” Soup whined, trying to reach through the bars towards the box.
“You wanna play in the box? Sorry, buckaroo. I need it for holdin' stuff.”
“Awweh!” Soup repeated.
Dusty sighed and pulled the box towards the gate so Soup could get a better look. “See? It's full of junk! Not for playin' with.”
Soup quieted down though, and leaned against the gate as he tried to look down inside.
“Did you just wanna see what I was doin'?” Dusty said with a chuckle, “Don't think there's anything here that'd interest you.” He pulled out a few more tapes and binders, and paused for a second once he noticed the small camcorder at the bottom. It had been his back-up camera for recording (He preferred his ordinary phone camera, as it had surprisingly better quality), and he curiously turned it on to see if any footage had been left behind. The preview showed only one frame, a still image of Dusty's Floran friend Saadjoa standing tall in a set of costume armor, and that was enough for Dusty to give a startled gasp.
“Here, Soup!” He said as he turned to give the baby a better view of the camera screen, “You'll like this. This was gonna be my final project this year.”
He pressed play and the image came to life, with Saadjoa glaring into the distance as the wind gently fluttered the leaves around their head and shoulders. A dark shadow shrouded their face as they raised their sword, and they looked up into the eyes of an enormous dragon.
Dusty had been so proud of that dragon prop. It was a nearly 8-foot-tall puppet made of cardboard and metal wires, elaborately painted to look like it had runes and scars carved into its scales, and yet color-coded to match the casing of its Glitch operator so that any holes in the prop or mistakes in moving it would be harder to notice. Dusty wished it could've fit on his hoverbike, so that he could bring it home and proudly display it in their tiny wagon, but he knew Mr. Zolli would take good care of it in the classroom, and perhaps it would inspire another student someday in the future.
By now the fight scene had commenced, with Saadjoa seeming to dance around the monster as they skillfully avoided its teeth. Dusty looked down to watch Soup, who was completely enraptured by the scene. He sat perfectly still, only turning his head slightly whenever the action moved to one side of the screen. Even the gasses within him seemed to flow slowly and glow dimly as all of his energy was directed towards watching the battle.
A few seconds later the video stopped, just as Saadjoa had lifted the sword to ready their first strike. Soup squeaked gently, and then loudly, begging Dusty to do something.
“That's it, buckaroo. We didn't finish filmin' it. There ain't any more.”
Soup kept squeaking, and reached his arm through the bars of the playpen to poke at the camera screen. Dusty sighed and replayed the short clip, which was enough to calm Soup down again.
This time Soup seemed much more excited for the fight, and stomped his tiny feet in encouragement as Saadjoa sized up their enemy. Dusty watched the baby more than the screen this time around, and a small thought began to grow in his mind. When the video stopped again, before Soup could beg for another playthrough, Dusty spoke.
“You know... we could finish this movie, Soup.”
Soup looked up at him and made a small chirp.
“Would you like that, buddy? You wanna fight that dragon?”
Soup made a little sound similar to an excited gasp, and then began bouncing up and down as he squeaked rapidly.
“Alright, alright. Let me see what we've got 'round here.”
There was no way for Dusty to recreate his beloved dragon prop on such short notice, but a bit of creativity could help with an alternative. In this case the solution was an old pizza box dug out of the trash. He did his best to draw a similar dragon on the top lid, and then fixed the box to stand open on its own. A pile of Soup's stuffed animals on the bottom half of the box not only kept it standing, but provided them with a crowd of “townsfolk” for Soup to rescue. And with a little extra cardboard and one of Dusty's old belts, he even made a Soup-sized sword and shield rigged to look like Soup was actually holding them. In a few short hours they had all of their props finished and Dusty's camera set up to go.
“Okay, Soup,” Dusty said in his calm narrator's voice once the camera was rolling.
“Squeak!” Soup said in response.
“That dragon kidnapped the entire town! Are you going to save them?”
“Squeak!”
“And defeat the dragon?”
“Squeak!”
“Okay, then get ready!”
Soup turned to stare down the dragon in the distance. Dusty made sure to frame it just like Saadjoa's dramatic pause.
“And... go!”
Soup gave a shrill squeak, certainly a fearsome battle cry to any dogs or fragile stemware in the area, and then charged at the dragon as fast as his little stubs could go. Before he even reached his target the belt came loose, causing his sword and shield to fall to the ground. Soup, undeterred, kept running, and lept at the dragon at full speed. There was a flat smack, and the box toppled backwards. The plushies on its base were flipped into the air and scattered across the floor. Soup himself slid across the floor on the box until he slipped off and laid sprawled out on the ground. Not a single prop or creature was left standing. There were clearly no survivors to this rescue.
There was a full second of silence, and just as Dusty was about to call Soup's name, the baby sat up immediately like a jack-in-the-box.
“Peep! Peep! Peep! Peep! Peep!” Soup chirped excitedly.
Dusty could feel himself shaking as he tried to hold back his laughter. He managed a quick, “Good job, Soup,” stopped the recording, and gently set the camera down. Then he finally burst, knocking himself to the floor with how hard he began laughing.
He struggled to catch his breath again between laughs, digging his heels into the rug to stop himself from rolling and kicking uncontrollably. Once he reached a slight calm, he quickly grabbed the camera and replayed the footage to make sure he had gotten it all.
This time he could pick up on so many small details he had missed before. The way Soup's glow brightened as he screamed. The way the cardboard shield fell as if Soup had thrown it to the ground to intentionally fight bare-handed. The way Soup's little hind legs flailed once he realized the dragon was going down. The small stuffed animal that had bounced off Soup's head as it flew. The sound of Dusty's voice cracking as he praised the tiny knight. It was all too much, and Dusty was overcome with laughter again. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, as it felt like his membrane was about to split open from how hard he was laughing. This time it wasn't until he felt Soup climb onto his chest that he was able to calm himself down.
“Here! Here, Soup! You gotta see this!” Dusty said as he pressed play again. Soup sat on Dusty's stomach and watched the new video just as carefully as he had the old one. He was perfectly still and quiet, even as Dusty kept chuckling at every major beat. Once the video was over, Soup merely turned to look at his older cousin.
“Well, Soup?” Dusty said, nearly choking on the words, “What did you think?”
Soup just sat there. Unusually quiet. Then he slowly leaned sideways until he flopped onto his side, rolling off of Dusty and onto the floor. It was his best imitation of Dusty's reaction, as he wasn't yet old enough to know how to laugh.
Dusty wheezed out one last bit of laughter. He was now sore all over, and even his brand had a slight vibrating pain to it.
“Oh my stars... Soup, we've gotta upload that somewhere! Maybe we could make more movies together too! What do you think? You wanna be an actor, buckaroo?”
Soup was still lying on his back with his little feet in the air. He wiggled his legs in response.
Dusty gently rubbed the baby's stomach, and then curled up slightly on the floor.
“I'll get on that soon as I can,” he said as he wrapped an arm around his aching chest again, “Don't think I'll be able to move for a while.”