34th Fall, 514AV
Maeki Cho's Animation Studio
“So, Amelia. You have returned.”
Maeki Cho’s words were not a question, but nevertheless Amliea replied with a gentle nod and quiet reply: ”Yes. I have.”
The older woman beamed and offered her student more tea, which Amelia accepted eagerly. “I’m glad. Now, you mentioned that you had a specific project in mind?”
Again, the blonde student nodded. From her bag she retracted a small brooch that was approximately the length of her index finger. It was shaped like a bug, and featured a small, round head from which erupted two crooked little antennae. The body of the beetle was dominated by a pair of wings that Amelia demonstrated could open to reveal a small mother-of-pearl underneath. ”This.” She said simply, passing the brooch to her instructor.
Maeki investigated the piece of metal carefully. Eventually she nodded. “A pretty brooch.” She returned it to Amelia’s open hands. “What were you thinking of doing with it?”
”I’d like the wings to open. And maybe the antennae to wiggle. Nothing too complex.” Amelia added hastily. She was cautious about the many risks one took when stepping into magic. During her first lesson with Maeki ten days ago, she had been informed that poorly animated objects could go ‘berserk’ — and whatever that was, Amelia knew it was something to avoid. She remembered the pulling sensation she had felt those few days ago, when she first experienced animation. The creation of Soulcore, the very giving of something that had been her own. It had been exhausting, emotional; far from a pleasant experience.
“Sounds wonderful.” Maeki commented before leaning onto the edge of her seat to take a piece of parchment from her cluttered desk. “Before you start, however, I’d like you to think about what directives you plan on giving your animation.” The parchment and quill was passed between the two females.
Amelia had already given this some consideration. Simplicity was key here, especially with her distinct lack of experience and confidence. “The first should be about the wings. Maybe to open them when something certain happens, like when I say a word. The second—”
Her words were cut short. Maeki held up a hand, sipped her tea, and remarked, “a piece of advice: verbal instructions are fine for certain things, but for something such as a brooch, which presumably will be used whilst there are others around, they may not be ideal. What would happen if you said your verbal instruction without intending to? You may well find that your beetle brooch tries to fly off your dress.” She smiled at her own humour.
Amelia’s lips pouted in thought. ”In that case, perhaps after a certain amount of time they should move their wings?”
“And how would you give your animation the concept of time?” It was not so much an outright rejection of Amelia’s suggestion. Maeki’s expertise armed her with the ability to anticipate any potential risks or danger before it even happened. “Keep things simple, Amelia. Make use of what your brooch has on it’s own without adding too much.”
With that sage advice, Amelia turned her attention to the brooch. It had been her mother’s, but ever since she was a girl Amelia had fancied it for herself. And now she was old enough, her mother claimed, to have earned possessing it herself. It was attached to one’s garment by a clasp at the back, on what would be the underbelly of the beetle if had been real. She toyed with the clasp for a tick or so, opening and closing it silently until the thought came to her:
”When the clasp is closed, it should move it’s wing for a number of times. Then… I can tap it to restart the cycle.”
Maeki considered the idea, the possibilities and risks associated with this plan. Eventually she nodded. “Yes. That would work. Simple, but clear.” Nodding, she rose from her seat and directed Amelia towards the aNimation circles that were chalked permanently onto the floor of her Animation lab. “Shall we begin?”
Maeki Cho's Animation Studio
“So, Amelia. You have returned.”
Maeki Cho’s words were not a question, but nevertheless Amliea replied with a gentle nod and quiet reply: ”Yes. I have.”
The older woman beamed and offered her student more tea, which Amelia accepted eagerly. “I’m glad. Now, you mentioned that you had a specific project in mind?”
Again, the blonde student nodded. From her bag she retracted a small brooch that was approximately the length of her index finger. It was shaped like a bug, and featured a small, round head from which erupted two crooked little antennae. The body of the beetle was dominated by a pair of wings that Amelia demonstrated could open to reveal a small mother-of-pearl underneath. ”This.” She said simply, passing the brooch to her instructor.
Maeki investigated the piece of metal carefully. Eventually she nodded. “A pretty brooch.” She returned it to Amelia’s open hands. “What were you thinking of doing with it?”
”I’d like the wings to open. And maybe the antennae to wiggle. Nothing too complex.” Amelia added hastily. She was cautious about the many risks one took when stepping into magic. During her first lesson with Maeki ten days ago, she had been informed that poorly animated objects could go ‘berserk’ — and whatever that was, Amelia knew it was something to avoid. She remembered the pulling sensation she had felt those few days ago, when she first experienced animation. The creation of Soulcore, the very giving of something that had been her own. It had been exhausting, emotional; far from a pleasant experience.
“Sounds wonderful.” Maeki commented before leaning onto the edge of her seat to take a piece of parchment from her cluttered desk. “Before you start, however, I’d like you to think about what directives you plan on giving your animation.” The parchment and quill was passed between the two females.
Amelia had already given this some consideration. Simplicity was key here, especially with her distinct lack of experience and confidence. “The first should be about the wings. Maybe to open them when something certain happens, like when I say a word. The second—”
Her words were cut short. Maeki held up a hand, sipped her tea, and remarked, “a piece of advice: verbal instructions are fine for certain things, but for something such as a brooch, which presumably will be used whilst there are others around, they may not be ideal. What would happen if you said your verbal instruction without intending to? You may well find that your beetle brooch tries to fly off your dress.” She smiled at her own humour.
Amelia’s lips pouted in thought. ”In that case, perhaps after a certain amount of time they should move their wings?”
“And how would you give your animation the concept of time?” It was not so much an outright rejection of Amelia’s suggestion. Maeki’s expertise armed her with the ability to anticipate any potential risks or danger before it even happened. “Keep things simple, Amelia. Make use of what your brooch has on it’s own without adding too much.”
With that sage advice, Amelia turned her attention to the brooch. It had been her mother’s, but ever since she was a girl Amelia had fancied it for herself. And now she was old enough, her mother claimed, to have earned possessing it herself. It was attached to one’s garment by a clasp at the back, on what would be the underbelly of the beetle if had been real. She toyed with the clasp for a tick or so, opening and closing it silently until the thought came to her:
”When the clasp is closed, it should move it’s wing for a number of times. Then… I can tap it to restart the cycle.”
Maeki considered the idea, the possibilities and risks associated with this plan. Eventually she nodded. “Yes. That would work. Simple, but clear.” Nodding, she rose from her seat and directed Amelia towards the aNimation circles that were chalked permanently onto the floor of her Animation lab. “Shall we begin?”