Put On a Show
May. 30th, 2016 11:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerMain Points:
Yugioh Paparazzi!Verse
Chapter Summary: Anzu watches the Pharaoh's performance for the first time.
Word Count: 660
Rating: teen
After that little performance backstage, she thought something would be different, but the routine is dazzling as ever, light, holograms, courtesy of KaibaCorp, and dancing, just as alluring at all the music videos her classmates couldn’t stop watching, even during the middle of class. Technically, they'd been impressive, but as a dancer herself, it feels like there's something missing. There’s an extra deep power to his voice in person, but then, all her friends had said that a performance by the Pharaoh wasn’t a thing to miss, that it was so different when you were actually there. She wasn’t going to squander hard-earned money for her dance classes on tickets, though, nor money she needed to live on, these days.
As usual, his outfit’s some combination of ancient and modern. She hadn’t really noticed the leather with Yugi, but now it’s obvious. The cape thing actually turns out to be, well, it’s definitely leather, but it shimmers, and with the way it’s cut and the mix of the holograms and the paint in the light it almost looks like a set of wings. The black shimmers well in the lights, and matches the ancient Egyptian makeup that, well. Honestly, she’s no scholar; she’s got no idea whether it’s accurate at all, but she has to admit, it looks natural on him. As does the swish of the cape behind him. He treats it like it’s another limb he was born with, a natural extension of his body.
Somehow, the patented KaibaCorp technology make him look shirtless for one song, at which point there’s quite a bit of screaming from the audience. He looks more tanned, or maybe that’s the darker lighting. A great sandstorm begins to blow, to the point that sometimes he can be seen, and sometimes he can’t. A stylized eye appears on his forehead, and she can see some kind of ghostly headdress, when the sandstorm’s not making obscuring visibility entirely. The special effects follow his movement seamlessly.
During another song, the holograms project a second outfit over top, a set of armor. He has a non-real staff in his hand, which of course would be easy to lift, yet the illusion is strong enough that Anzu finds her breath catching as he effortlessly twirls it. Well, one thing’s for sure…he’s a born entertainer. He knows exactly what he’s doing, just how to toy with his audience’s hearts. Because, let’s be honest, that’s exactly what he’s doing.
She feels as if someone just dumped a bucket of ice cold water over her head. Painful? Yes, but the spell is broken, and she can turn her eye on the technical aspects of the show. It’s true, it looks like. Kaiba does save all the best toys—and holograms—for himself.
The pyramids in the background, the sand swirling beneath his feet as he dances and sings. It’s an impressive performance, and Anzu feels a pang of…that’s actual anger. Is this why she failed? Not because she wasn’t a good dancer, but because it’s not even about dancing or even music anymore, just impressive special effects?
She glances back up and meets sharp, narrowed violet eyes staring straight at her. A second later, he looks away, but it’s honestly vaguely terrifying. She’s gotten used to being invisible, to helping out backstage or being the writer whose name nobody reads when they reach for an article. It’s as if he could see into her very heart, knows exactly what she’s thinking, and it’s very unsettling. I can’t cut out and run, though. I need the money. It’s just something he learned from Kaiba. Clearly. Nothing to worry about. And she pauses and sighs. And it’s not like it’s Yugi she really hates. She doesn’t particularly like his stage personality, the Pharaoh, because, well. At first, she’d thought it was fake, especially after seeing Yugi backstage, but that’s not true at all. There’s something real, genuine that shines through, and perhaps that’s a huge part of the appeal. She can be angry at Kaiba, but in the end, she’s the failure. And that’s probably what he’d say, too, the smug little git. There’s such a thing as being a graceful victor, and from everything she’s seen, Kaiba definitely isn’t it.
Grudgingly, she admits that his music is catchy, as most rock music, and there’s something present in his voice, in the instrumentals, in his very dancing. It’s…nostalgic, maybe? There’s a longing in there, some sort of ancient intensity to the here and now that he brings by his very presence.
The band supporting him helps, too, but they’re not the focus of the show, stuck to the side and away from the spotlights. They’re not even on the stage. It’s all on the Pharaoh. Usually, her first thought would be how the git’s stealing the glory for himself, but the first thought that pops into her head is actually, how lonely. She’s not sure where it comes from.
She zones out for a while, lost in her own little world as music plays in the background. She’s not actually watching, not necessarily here.
When she comes back, it’s near the end, and he’s looking at her again. There’s a slight smile, amused as always, but there’s respect in his eyes, if she’s not just imagining it. He’s looking back to the audience, though, and the moment is lost.
And then, in a blast of white lightning, Kaiba appears on stage. There’s a roar that most people hear only in commercials, and three dragons appear on stage, flanking the billionaire. He lays a hand on one, and it’s almost as if it’s real, but then, that’s one of the big draws of the KaibaCorp Hologram system. The Pharaoh’s eyes are wide. So this wasn’t in practice, huh. Figures. “I’m proud to announce a special performance of the Pharaoh in two week’s time. It’s to celebrate the opening of Japan’s very own KaibaLand, the biggest theme park to grace this world, so I hope everyone’s on their toes, because we’ll be sold out in no time. That’s all.”
That’s odd. That’s a shorter speech than normal. He waves, ignoring the reporters as he tends to do, and heads offstage.
The reporters immediately all descend on the Pharaoh, who looks more like his unsure backstage self than the confident, alluring persona he presents onstage. “Would you care to comment on this new development?” “That’s a rather abrupt announcement—why now?” “Are you looking forward to this special performance?” “Is there anything you can tell us about it?”
Yugi shakes his head and slips back into the Pharaoh persona. “We didn’t discuss it directly, but knowing KaibaCorp there’s a press release waiting to be sent out soon.” He refuses to comment any further, and even looks a little bit frustrated—so maybe their fights aren’t just staged for the audience, like everyone thinks.
He spots her and smiles. It’s more genuine than his usual smiles, but it’s still a little intimidating. Glad I rank higher than hordes of reporters…maybe because I signed that contract. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have an interview to get to.”
“An interview?” they begin muttering. “Since when does the Pharaoh give interviews?”
“Don’t you remember? The Japan Daily News was granted the opportunity for one of their reporters to interview the star,” another one remembers, and there’s grumbling from the others, but they don’t make a fuss in front of the audience.
He glances at her briefly before waving at the audience, who goes crazy. He disappears backstage, and she’s probably supposed to follow. Down the rabbit hole. Here I go.
At least she’d come from there, and had a pretty good memory for retracing her steps. She pauses in the hallway—there’s raised voices in the changing room. “Where is he, Mokuba?” It’s definitely the Pharaoh, and it’s almost a primal growl.
“Are you angry about that stunt? It’s a publicity thing; you know that,” a voice high in contrast to the low voices of Seto Kaiba and the Pharaoh that she identifies as the younger Kaiba brother responds, defensively.
“It’s not that!” It’s anger and hurt and something else undefinable. That’s the Pharaoh in general, though. He’s a hard one to pin down. And maybe she should think about her choice of metaphor better in the future. “He left on his own?”
“You’re worried about him.” Mokuba’s voice instantly softens, loses its emotional shield. “Don’t worry, he’s fine.”
“That is not what it sounded like before.” The voice gets quieter, to the point she can’t hear, and Mokuba murmurs in reassurance.
“Anyway,” the younger one continues, more cheerfully, “He was thinking that, since you always get hungry after a concert, you and Shidehara and the reporter could go for dinner. I’d go, but I have homework.” He’s pouting now, which almost makes her laugh. He sounds the most normal of them all. “And somehow, Kaiba knew that I didn’t finish during the concert. I swear he’s a Psychic Type sometimes.”
“That’s a terrifying idea,” The Pharaoh replies dryly, then sighs. “You’re going with Roland, then, I assume?”
“Yep! Have fun!” Mokuba pauses, then adds in a stage whisper, “It’s not the end of the world, you know. She is pretty, even if she is a reporter.”
There’s a strangled sort of sound in response, and the younger Kaiba dashes out with a laugh. He might have just winked at her as he passes her in the corridor, too. It’s hard to tell.
Yugioh Paparazzi!Verse
Chapter Summary: Anzu watches the Pharaoh's performance for the first time.
Word Count: 660
Rating: teen
After that little performance backstage, she thought something would be different, but the routine is dazzling as ever, light, holograms, courtesy of KaibaCorp, and dancing, just as alluring at all the music videos her classmates couldn’t stop watching, even during the middle of class. Technically, they'd been impressive, but as a dancer herself, it feels like there's something missing. There’s an extra deep power to his voice in person, but then, all her friends had said that a performance by the Pharaoh wasn’t a thing to miss, that it was so different when you were actually there. She wasn’t going to squander hard-earned money for her dance classes on tickets, though, nor money she needed to live on, these days.
As usual, his outfit’s some combination of ancient and modern. She hadn’t really noticed the leather with Yugi, but now it’s obvious. The cape thing actually turns out to be, well, it’s definitely leather, but it shimmers, and with the way it’s cut and the mix of the holograms and the paint in the light it almost looks like a set of wings. The black shimmers well in the lights, and matches the ancient Egyptian makeup that, well. Honestly, she’s no scholar; she’s got no idea whether it’s accurate at all, but she has to admit, it looks natural on him. As does the swish of the cape behind him. He treats it like it’s another limb he was born with, a natural extension of his body.
Somehow, the patented KaibaCorp technology make him look shirtless for one song, at which point there’s quite a bit of screaming from the audience. He looks more tanned, or maybe that’s the darker lighting. A great sandstorm begins to blow, to the point that sometimes he can be seen, and sometimes he can’t. A stylized eye appears on his forehead, and she can see some kind of ghostly headdress, when the sandstorm’s not making obscuring visibility entirely. The special effects follow his movement seamlessly.
During another song, the holograms project a second outfit over top, a set of armor. He has a non-real staff in his hand, which of course would be easy to lift, yet the illusion is strong enough that Anzu finds her breath catching as he effortlessly twirls it. Well, one thing’s for sure…he’s a born entertainer. He knows exactly what he’s doing, just how to toy with his audience’s hearts. Because, let’s be honest, that’s exactly what he’s doing.
She feels as if someone just dumped a bucket of ice cold water over her head. Painful? Yes, but the spell is broken, and she can turn her eye on the technical aspects of the show. It’s true, it looks like. Kaiba does save all the best toys—and holograms—for himself.
The pyramids in the background, the sand swirling beneath his feet as he dances and sings. It’s an impressive performance, and Anzu feels a pang of…that’s actual anger. Is this why she failed? Not because she wasn’t a good dancer, but because it’s not even about dancing or even music anymore, just impressive special effects?
She glances back up and meets sharp, narrowed violet eyes staring straight at her. A second later, he looks away, but it’s honestly vaguely terrifying. She’s gotten used to being invisible, to helping out backstage or being the writer whose name nobody reads when they reach for an article. It’s as if he could see into her very heart, knows exactly what she’s thinking, and it’s very unsettling. I can’t cut out and run, though. I need the money. It’s just something he learned from Kaiba. Clearly. Nothing to worry about. And she pauses and sighs. And it’s not like it’s Yugi she really hates. She doesn’t particularly like his stage personality, the Pharaoh, because, well. At first, she’d thought it was fake, especially after seeing Yugi backstage, but that’s not true at all. There’s something real, genuine that shines through, and perhaps that’s a huge part of the appeal. She can be angry at Kaiba, but in the end, she’s the failure. And that’s probably what he’d say, too, the smug little git. There’s such a thing as being a graceful victor, and from everything she’s seen, Kaiba definitely isn’t it.
Grudgingly, she admits that his music is catchy, as most rock music, and there’s something present in his voice, in the instrumentals, in his very dancing. It’s…nostalgic, maybe? There’s a longing in there, some sort of ancient intensity to the here and now that he brings by his very presence.
The band supporting him helps, too, but they’re not the focus of the show, stuck to the side and away from the spotlights. They’re not even on the stage. It’s all on the Pharaoh. Usually, her first thought would be how the git’s stealing the glory for himself, but the first thought that pops into her head is actually, how lonely. She’s not sure where it comes from.
She zones out for a while, lost in her own little world as music plays in the background. She’s not actually watching, not necessarily here.
When she comes back, it’s near the end, and he’s looking at her again. There’s a slight smile, amused as always, but there’s respect in his eyes, if she’s not just imagining it. He’s looking back to the audience, though, and the moment is lost.
And then, in a blast of white lightning, Kaiba appears on stage. There’s a roar that most people hear only in commercials, and three dragons appear on stage, flanking the billionaire. He lays a hand on one, and it’s almost as if it’s real, but then, that’s one of the big draws of the KaibaCorp Hologram system. The Pharaoh’s eyes are wide. So this wasn’t in practice, huh. Figures. “I’m proud to announce a special performance of the Pharaoh in two week’s time. It’s to celebrate the opening of Japan’s very own KaibaLand, the biggest theme park to grace this world, so I hope everyone’s on their toes, because we’ll be sold out in no time. That’s all.”
That’s odd. That’s a shorter speech than normal. He waves, ignoring the reporters as he tends to do, and heads offstage.
The reporters immediately all descend on the Pharaoh, who looks more like his unsure backstage self than the confident, alluring persona he presents onstage. “Would you care to comment on this new development?” “That’s a rather abrupt announcement—why now?” “Are you looking forward to this special performance?” “Is there anything you can tell us about it?”
Yugi shakes his head and slips back into the Pharaoh persona. “We didn’t discuss it directly, but knowing KaibaCorp there’s a press release waiting to be sent out soon.” He refuses to comment any further, and even looks a little bit frustrated—so maybe their fights aren’t just staged for the audience, like everyone thinks.
He spots her and smiles. It’s more genuine than his usual smiles, but it’s still a little intimidating. Glad I rank higher than hordes of reporters…maybe because I signed that contract. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I do have an interview to get to.”
“An interview?” they begin muttering. “Since when does the Pharaoh give interviews?”
“Don’t you remember? The Japan Daily News was granted the opportunity for one of their reporters to interview the star,” another one remembers, and there’s grumbling from the others, but they don’t make a fuss in front of the audience.
He glances at her briefly before waving at the audience, who goes crazy. He disappears backstage, and she’s probably supposed to follow. Down the rabbit hole. Here I go.
At least she’d come from there, and had a pretty good memory for retracing her steps. She pauses in the hallway—there’s raised voices in the changing room. “Where is he, Mokuba?” It’s definitely the Pharaoh, and it’s almost a primal growl.
“Are you angry about that stunt? It’s a publicity thing; you know that,” a voice high in contrast to the low voices of Seto Kaiba and the Pharaoh that she identifies as the younger Kaiba brother responds, defensively.
“It’s not that!” It’s anger and hurt and something else undefinable. That’s the Pharaoh in general, though. He’s a hard one to pin down. And maybe she should think about her choice of metaphor better in the future. “He left on his own?”
“You’re worried about him.” Mokuba’s voice instantly softens, loses its emotional shield. “Don’t worry, he’s fine.”
“That is not what it sounded like before.” The voice gets quieter, to the point she can’t hear, and Mokuba murmurs in reassurance.
“Anyway,” the younger one continues, more cheerfully, “He was thinking that, since you always get hungry after a concert, you and Shidehara and the reporter could go for dinner. I’d go, but I have homework.” He’s pouting now, which almost makes her laugh. He sounds the most normal of them all. “And somehow, Kaiba knew that I didn’t finish during the concert. I swear he’s a Psychic Type sometimes.”
“That’s a terrifying idea,” The Pharaoh replies dryly, then sighs. “You’re going with Roland, then, I assume?”
“Yep! Have fun!” Mokuba pauses, then adds in a stage whisper, “It’s not the end of the world, you know. She is pretty, even if she is a reporter.”
There’s a strangled sort of sound in response, and the younger Kaiba dashes out with a laugh. He might have just winked at her as he passes her in the corridor, too. It’s hard to tell.
