บท 16: Ashen Plain
With Sonny's dramatic demise in the can, it was finally time to tackle Michael's exile scenes. This meant capturing the whole shebang - the escape, the Apollonia romance, and her tragic end. No pressure, right?
Our ragtag crew packed up and embarked on a journey that felt more like an odyssey than a location shoot. Seven hours, four buses, and one questionably roadworthy taxi later, we found ourselves in the Ashen Plains.
As we stumbled off the last bus, stretching cramped limbs and rubbing bleary eyes, I couldn't help but grin. The place was perfect - a dead ringer for the Sicily of my imagination, even though Sicily didn't exist in this world.
The Ashen Plains sprawled before us, a patchwork of wide farms and rustic charm that screamed "underdeveloped rural paradise."
As the crew began unloading our equipment, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of nerves. We weren't just in unfamiliar territory - we were in Asmodeus family turf.
This place was governed by none other than Agustin Asmodeus, son of the big bad Asmodeus himself back in Ferland City.
Rocky sidled up to me, his voice low enough that the rest of the crew couldn't hear. "Uh, your highness? You did get permission to film here, right? I'd rather not offend a demon lord."
I plastered on my most confident smile, the one I used to use at royal functions when I had no clue what was going on. "Of course, Rocky! What do you take me for, some kind of reckless, exiled prince with no regard for proper procedures?"
The look he gave me could have curdled milk. "That's exactly what I take you for."
I laughed, hoping it didn't sound as nervous as I felt. My palms were sweating, and I'm pretty sure my horns were drooping a bit. "Relax. I sent a, uh, very polite request to the Asmodeus family. I'm sure it's fine."
Rocky didn't look convinced, but the rest of the crew seemed to take my word for it.
Or maybe they were just too tired from the journey to argue. Either way, we started making our way towards the home we'd be renting for the next few days.
As we trudged along, our equipment clanking and rattling, I couldn't help but marvel at the landscape. The Ashen Plains lived up to their name - the ground was a soft gray, like the ashes of a long-dead fire. But despite the eerie name, there was a strange beauty to the place. Fields of dark, twisted crops stretched as far as the eye could see, punctuated by the occasional gnarled tree that looked older than time itself.
As we were settling into our temporary digs, I overheard our Apollonia, Vivienne, complaining about the heat. "It's really hot in here..." she muttered, fanning herself dramatically.
Vivienne was a curious case - half-human, half-demon, but you'd never know it to look at her.
The only giveaway was her snake-like eyes, which were currently narrowed in discomfort. Well, that and the distinctly human air of superiority she seemed to wear like a second skin.
Figuring it was time to address the elephant - or should I say, the scantily-clad scene - in the room, I approached her. "You sure you're ready for that one scene?" I asked, trying to sound casual and director-ly. "It will get, you know..."
I trailed off, feeling an unexpected wave of shyness wash over me. How exactly does one tactfully bring up a scene involving toplessness and kissing? Especially when you're an exiled demon prince turned novice filmmaker?
But Vivienne, it seemed, had no such qualms. She fixed me with a look that could have melted steel and snorted. "Hmph. What do you take me for? A teenager? I can do that scene no problem."
"Is that so?" I managed, a bit taken aback by her bravado.
"Right!" she snapped. "Don't act like an inexperienced kid."
I felt my face heat up, and not just from the Ashen Plains' oppressive temperature. The sound of poorly suppressed laughter from Rocky, George, and the rest of the crew didn't help. Great. Nothing like losing face in front of your entire team.
Trying to salvage some dignity, I puffed up my chest and shot back, "Hmph. Don't cry later if you feel humiliated."
As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Real professional, Arthur. Real smooth.
Vivienne just rolled her eyes and sauntered off, leaving me standing there feeling like I'd just lost a battle I didn't even know I was fighting.
George ambled over, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "Smooth, boss. Real smooth."
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Not my finest moment, huh?"
He chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder. "Look at it this way - if you can direct half as well as you can put your foot in your mouth, we might just have a hit on our hands."
***
After our little meet-and-greet with the local heat and Vivienne's confidence, we finally settled into our temporary home. The house was spacious... or at least, it would have been if we weren't packed in like sardines in a demonic tin can.
"Hope you're all comfortable with close quarters. We're bunking together to save on the budget." I said, surveying our cramped quarters.
George looked around, his eyes wide. "Boss, are you sure this is legal? Pretty sure there are laws against this many demons in one space."
I shrugged. "Probably. But hey, think of it as method acting. We're all exiles in this place, remember?"
The groans that followed were probably audible back in Ferland City.
We managed to squeeze in about four hours of sleep before the unholy screeching of a Cursed Chicken jolted us awake. If you've never heard a Cursed Chicken at dawn, count yourself lucky. Imagine a banshee with laryngitis gargling razor blades, and you're halfway there.
"What in the nine hells is that?" Rocky grumbled, his hair sticking up in all directions.
"Our wake-up call," I replied, trying to sound chipper and probably failing miserably. "Rise and shine, everyone! Time to make a movie!"
The bleary-eyed glares I received in response could have curdled milk.
We stumbled our way to the nearby market, a colorful array of demon vendors hawking everything from eyeball soup to cursed amulets. I steered us towards the cheapest restaurant I could find - a dingy little place that promised "Food that won't kill you (probably)" in flickering neon.
As we huddled around a table that had definitely seen better centuries, slurping down something that might have been coffee in a past life, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. This wasn't exactly the glamorous filmmaking experience I'm sure everyone had signed up for.
"Look, I know this isn't ideal," I said, addressing my tired and slightly nauseous-looking crew. "But we're making history here. The first demon mob movie shot on location in Ashen Plains!"
Vivienne raised an eyebrow. "You mean the first demon mob movie shot in a place we're pretending is Sicily because we couldn't afford to go to the real thing?"
I pointed my fork at her. "Exactly! That's the spirit!"
We finished our questionable breakfast and headed out to start our first day of filming.
บท 17: Vivienne
Alright, showtime. Our first order of business was to film in the grasslands and farms, capturing Michael's introduction to his new "Sicilian" home.
To add that authentic touch, we'd recruited some local demons to play tour guides. It hadn't been hard - just wave the promise of being in a movie in front of some desperate low-level demons, and suddenly everyone's Marlon Brando.
As we set up the shot, I couldn't help but marvel at how eager our impromptu actors were. They fawned over me like I was still royalty, not some exiled prince turned wannabe filmmaker. But hey, if it worked for the scene, I wasn't complaining.
"And action!" I called, slipping into Michael's skin as easily as putting on a well-worn coat.
The local demons stepped up, showing me around with a gusto that would make any real tour guide jealous. I nodded along, playing the part of the wide-eyed newcomer, when suddenly - there she was.
Vivienne, or rather Apollonia, stood in the distance, a vision of shy beauty that was so at odds with her real personality that for a moment, I forgot I was acting.
Our eyes met across the field, and I felt a jolt that wasn't entirely put on for the camera.
The moment stretched, electric and charged, until Apollonia's friends pushed her along, breaking the spell. She nodded and left, leaving me - Michael - standing there, slightly dazed.
"Who is that?" I asked, turning to my demon guides.
One of them, really getting into his role, replied, "That? That's Apollonia. She's the daughter of the café owner."
I nodded, impressed by their commitment to the scene. But then, the other demon decided to go off-script, adding his own little flourish.
"Careful," he stage-whispered, his face a mask of gossipy concern. "Apollonia might be as beautiful as a succubus, but she's half-human, half-demon. Got that cunning blood of the humans in her."
I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing. The demon's casual discrimination against humans was so perfectly in character for our world that I couldn't have written it better myself.
"Cut!" I called, breaking character. "That was... surprisingly good, guys. Really nailed the local color there."
Our impromptu actors beamed with pride, while the rest of the crew looked on in a mix of amusement and surprise.
"Boss," George whispered, sidling up to me, "did you tell them to say that last bit?"
I shook my head, grinning. "Nope. Seems we've got some natural talent on our hands. Or at least, some natural prejudices that work great for the film."
***
The days blurred together in a whirlwind of filming, each scene bringing its own set of surprises.
When it came time to shoot Michael's meeting with Apollonia's father, we struck gold again with our local talent. The actual owner of a café in Ashen Plains stepped into the role, and boy, did he step up.
The scene was supposed to be tense, sure, but this guy took it to a whole new level. He glared at me with such intensity that I almost forgot I was acting. When I called "Cut!" and asked him about it, his response caught me off guard.
"I've got a daughter of my own," he grunted, his eyes narrowing. "Wouldn't just hand her over to some smooth-talking outsider, powerful family or not."
I nodded, trying not to show my skepticism. Part of me wondered if he was still in character or if this was some deep-seated paternal instinct bubbling to the surface. Either way, it made for great cinema, so I wasn't about to complain.
The wedding scenes were next on our list, and let me tell you, trying to stage a lavish wedding on our shoestring budget was like trying to throw a royal ball in a broom closet.
Creative solutions were the name of the game.
We ended up buying the wedding dress and suit from a recently married couple in Ashen Plains. The bride's dress was a bit singed at the hem (hazard of demon weddings, I suppose), and the groom's suit had seen better days, but with a little demonic tailoring and a lot of camera angles, we made it work.
The local demons, bless their infernal hearts, were more than happy to play extras. They showed up in droves, eager for their chance at demon stardom.
We filmed under the scorching sun, with sweat dripping down our backs and makeup melting faster than we could apply it.
Then came the scene I'd been both anticipating and dreading - the intimate moment between Michael and Apollonia. We'd cleared out most of the crew, leaving just me, Vivienne, and one very uncomfortable-looking cameraman in a quiet room.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. This wasn't just acting anymore - this was my first on-screen kiss, and if I'm being honest, my first kiss in this life, period. I snuck a glance at Vivienne. At 18, she was two years my senior and, objectively speaking, stunning. Not that I'd ever admit that out loud.
"Hey," Vivienne's voice cut through my thoughts. "You look nervous for an exiled prince and director of this project." She smirked. "When are we gonna film? I feel my throat drying from waiting."
I bristled at her tone. "Just shut up. I'm preparing for the role."
"Heh. Right," she snorted, but I caught a flicker of something in her eyes. Nervousness, maybe?
Gritting my teeth, I nodded to the cameraman. "Alright, let's begin." I took a deep breath. "Action!"
We fell into character, our eyes locking. The air seemed to thicken as we moved closer. Just before our lips met, I noticed a slight tremor in Vivienne's hand. 'Not so tough now, are we?' I thought, feeling a mix of triumph and sympathy.
Then, pushing all thoughts aside, I leaned in and kissed her. Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, I worried I'd messed up. But then she relaxed into the kiss, and suddenly, I forgot all about the camera, the script, everything.
The scene progressed, growing more intense. Clothes were discarded, hands wandered. It was all very tastefully done, of course - we were making art, not a scandal. But even so, I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted between us.
As we finished the scene, I called "Cut!" in a voice that was embarrassingly breathless. Vivienne immediately pulled away, grabbing her clothes and bolting from the room without a word.
I turned to the cameraman, bewildered. "What happened to her?"
He just shrugged, looking as confused as I felt.
As I left the room, my mind was reeling. What just happened? Was it all just really good acting, or was there something more? And why did I care so much?
One thing was for sure - making movies was a lot more complicated than I'd thought. And we still had half a film to go.
***
The day after our... intense scene, we moved on to one of the most pivotal moments in the film - Apollonia's tragic demise.
In the story timeline, Michael and Apollonia had been blissfully married for a while, with a little one on the way. It was the kind of happiness that, in movies like ours, never lasts.
As we set up the shot, I found myself oddly melancholic. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe that kiss had affected me more than I cared to admit.
"Places, everyone!" I called out, pushing my personal feelings aside. We had a movie to make, after all. "Action!"
Vivienne and I took our positions. We shared a tender kiss - nothing like the passion of yesterday's scene, but somehow more intimate. As she pulled away and headed towards the car, I felt a genuine pang of loss.
I watched Vivienne - Apollonia - walk away, waving with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Was she still thinking about yesterday too?
Shaking off the thought, I reached out, channeling Michael's sudden premonition of danger. "Apollonia, wait!" I called out, my voice cracking with an emotion I wasn't entirely faking.
Then came the 'explosion' - courtesy of an expensive one-time illusion spell contained in a rune paper. It wasn't perfect - anyone watching in person would easily spot the fakery - but for film purposes, it would do the trick.
As the illusory flames engulfed the car, I let out a cry of anguish that was part Michael, part Arthur. It was over. Both the scene, and Vivienne's part in our film.
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