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.
บท 18: Filming an iconic scene
After calling "Cut!" on Apollonia's tragic demise, I made my way over to Vivienne. She seemed to be avoiding eye contact, but I pressed on, determined to clear the air.
"You're quite a good actress," I said, trying to sound casual. "I can see you're passionate about your career. I admire that."
"Thanks," she replied with a small smile. "You're unexpectedly great at acting too."
I chuckled inwardly. 'Unexpectedly'? She wasn't wrong - I was as shocked as anyone by my newfound acting chops.
"Well, I hope you had fun acting in my film," I said, extending my hand. "Hope to work with you in the future."
She shook my hand, her grip firm. "I'd have had more fun if you weren't using your position as director to take advantage of me," she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eye.
I laughed, relieved we were back to our usual banter. "Take advantage of you? If anything, I think I'm the one being taken advan—"
She cut me off with a light punch to the shoulder. "Ow! Okay, okay. Maybe I'm not a good director after all. I'm a bad demon, remember?"
Once our laughter died down, I couldn't help but ask, "By the way, why did you suddenly run away from the room yesterday?"
Her smile faded, replaced by a guarded expression. "Hmph. That's none of your business, Your Highness," she said sarcastically, turning to walk away.
I scratched the back of my head, watching her go. Working with an actress like her had definitely been... an experience.
As we packed up and headed back to Ferland City, I couldn't help but feel relieved that our time in Ashen Plains had gone smoothly. The Asmodeus family hadn't interfered - a small miracle in itself.
Hours later, we were back in the familiar chaos of Ferland City.
As the crew dispersed and the actors said their goodbyes, I found myself lingering, watching Vivienne disappear into the crowd.
Me and my team went our separate ways to rest.
***
The next few days flew by in a whirlwind of activity. Despite our collective inexperience in filmmaking, we were starting to find our rhythm. Each scene we shot felt a little smoother, a little more natural. It was like watching a bunch of fledgling demons learn to fly - awkward at first, but gradually gaining confidence.
"You know," George remarked one day as we wrapped a particularly complex scene, "I think we might actually be getting good at this."
I grinned, clapping him on the shoulder. "Don't jinx it, my friend. We've still got a long way to go."
Then came the big one - the death of Don Vito Corleone. Rocky outdid himself, his performance so moving that I almost forgot he was the same guy who used to sell me tickets at the theater.
After that, we moved on to the funeral scene at "Hades," our stand-in for a demon graveyard.
It was a somber affair, at least on camera. Off-camera, it was more like a circus, with extras tripping over headstones and our makeup artist chasing after demons whose horns kept poking through their wigs.
The four family heads gathered to pay their respects, each one a character straight out of a demon's fever dream. I'd cast powerful, intelligent-looking demons for these roles, but Don Barzini was something special. The wolf demon we'd snagged for the part looked like he'd stepped right out of a nightmare, with piercing eyes, pointed ears, and a tail that seemed to have a mind of its own.
As we rolled camera, I was blown away by the performances.
These "rock bottom" actors were pouring their hearts out, their faces a masterclass in subtle emotion. They sympathized with Michael on the surface, all sad eyes and comforting pats on the shoulder. But underneath, you could see the gleam of satisfaction in their eyes, the barely concealed joy at the Corleone family's misfortune.
"Cut!" I called, feeling a surge of pride. "That was... that was incredible, everyone."
Rocky sidled up to me, still in his Don Vito makeup despite being very much dead in the scene. "Not bad for a bunch of demon rejects, huh?"
I nodded, watching as our wolf-demon Don Barzini chatted amiably with the other family heads, his tail wagging slightly.
***
With Don Vito laid to rest, we jumped forward in our story timeline. 'Weeks' had passed since the funeral, and it was time for one of the most iconic scenes in the film - the baptism.
Our location? A Solarus Church right in the heart of the Gloomstone District.
The irony wasn't lost on me. A human god's church in a demon city? If you'd told me about this in my previous life, I'd have laughed you out of the room. But here, in this world? It was just another Tuesday.
Solarus, the human Sun God, had quite the following, even among demons, though it was a minority.
It was a fact that still boggled my mind sometimes.
This divine popularity had led to a subset of demons becoming more... well, tame isn't quite the right word, but let's go with "less prone to spontaneous acts of chaos and destruction."
Sure, the majority of demons might look down their noses (or snouts, or whatever) at these Solarus-worshipping minorities, but you couldn't deny the power the human god held.
It was like watching a bunch of cats suddenly decide to follow the ways of a particularly charismatic dog - unexpected, but undeniably intriguing.
Using a scene where a demon family like the Corleones gets baptized in a Solarus church wasn't just acceptable - it was relatable. I could already imagine demons across the kingdom nodding along, seeing a bit of themselves or their neighbors in our fictional family.
Of course, in the world of our film, things were a bit different. The Corleones and the other families existed in a version of Empirica that was a melting pot of races, not the human-dominated powerhouse it was in reality. We'd taken some creative liberties with place names too, crafting a world that was familiar yet distinctly our own.
We arrived at the church, a surprisingly grand affair for a demon district. The demon priest, an actual man of the cloth (or whatever the demonic equivalent is), had agreed to let us use the place for filming. Apparently, having film crews in churches wasn't all that unusual. Who knew?
I couldn't help but chuckle to myself, though. If this priest had any idea what we were about to film - Michael denying the evil in his heart while simultaneously ordering a series of brutal assassinations - well, let's just say we might have found ourselves looking for a new location.
As my crew bustled around, setting up lights and cameras, I watched the demon baby who'd be playing Michael's godchild. The little tyke was gurgling happily, blissfully unaware of the pivotal role it was about to play in our demonic drama.
The priest approached me, his face solemn. "Do you reject the forces of evil and darkness?" he intoned, clearly expecting me to repeat after him.
I nodded, fighting to keep a straight face. If only he knew.
We breezed through the church scene, the contrast between the holy setting and what we were actually filming giving me a perverse thrill.
Then it was on to the real meat of the sequence - the assassination of the four family heads.
By the time we wrapped for the day, everyone was exhausted but buzzing with excitement. We were in the home stretch now, the end of filming finally in sight.
Later that night, I found myself alone in the studio as usual.
As I began editing the baptism scene, intercut with the brutal assassinations, I felt a surge of excitement. This was it - the moment where everything came together, where Michael's transformation from reluctant outsider to cold-blooded Don was complete.
Watching the footage, seeing myself swear to reject evil while images of violence flashed across the screen, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of... something. Pride? Guilt? Maybe a bit of both.
I shook off the feeling. This was art, after all. And if it made people uncomfortable, well, that was kind of the point, wasn't it?
As I continued to work late into the night, piecing together our demonic masterpiece, I couldn't help but wonder what people would think when they finally saw it. Would they understand what we were trying to say? Would they see past the horns and tails to the universal story underneath?
Only time would tell. But one thing was for sure - the Demonfather was almost ready to make his debut. And demon world or human world, nobody was going to know what hit them.
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