The Other Green/Transcript: Difference between revisions
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{{Infobox transcript | |||
|characters=*[[Hisao Nakai]] | |||
*[[Rin Tezuka]] | *[[Rin Tezuka]] | ||
|next = [[The Running Girl/Transcript|The Running Girl]]| | |next = [[The Running Girl/Transcript|The Running Girl]] | ||
|prev = [[Waylay/Transcript|Waylay]]}} | |title = The Other Green | ||
|prev = [[Waylay/Transcript|Waylay]]}} | |||
NARRATOR: "We leave the main building, and Rin leads us onwards towards the dorm. We stop at the small patch of greenery in front of the dorm building. The dorm is built on a slightly elevated ground, with a wall and a few trees that everyone has to circle around every time they come or go. It's probably the only inconvenient design in the school." | NARRATOR: "We leave the main building, and Rin leads us onwards towards the dorm. We stop at the small patch of greenery in front of the dorm building. The dorm is built on a slightly elevated ground, with a wall and a few trees that everyone has to circle around every time they come or go. It's probably the only inconvenient design in the school." | ||
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NARRATOR: "So she sits on an empty wooden box and very naturally picks up a wide brush between the toes of her bare right foot. I open a few of the cans and pour some of the contents into shallow bowls for mixing. The thick paints flow lazily from the can to the bowl, like syrup. I mix them, creating funny, hypnotic looking swirl patterns that melt quickly into each other to form a new monotone hue. Rin sets to work, every now and then asking me for a hand with something or the other. ... Finding different brushes is easy enough, but mixing the paints to be the exact tone this girl is apparently seeing in her head is a frustrating ordeal. She wants precision down to the last milliliter before she is satisfied, but her instructions are obscure at best." | NARRATOR: "So she sits on an empty wooden box and very naturally picks up a wide brush between the toes of her bare right foot. I open a few of the cans and pour some of the contents into shallow bowls for mixing. The thick paints flow lazily from the can to the bowl, like syrup. I mix them, creating funny, hypnotic looking swirl patterns that melt quickly into each other to form a new monotone hue. Rin sets to work, every now and then asking me for a hand with something or the other. ... Finding different brushes is easy enough, but mixing the paints to be the exact tone this girl is apparently seeing in her head is a frustrating ordeal. She wants precision down to the last milliliter before she is satisfied, but her instructions are obscure at best." | ||
<p style="text-align:center;">[[File:mural_start.jpg|700px]]</p> | |||
RIN: "Add half a splash of green." | RIN: "Add half a splash of green." | ||
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NARRATOR: "With this exclamation I pour a minuscule amount of white into the bowl and mix it. It looks slightly... whiter." | NARRATOR: "With this exclamation I pour a minuscule amount of white into the bowl and mix it. It looks slightly... whiter." | ||
RIN: "That's not good. It has to be like... like the color when you wake up and you | RIN: "That's not good. It has to be like... like the color when you wake up and you '''know''' that you saw the meaning of life in your dream but can't remember it. Maybe it's yellow..." | ||
NARRATOR: "... Despite the impossibility of mixing a color like the change of seasons or any other nonsense that's being imposed on me, I find myself enjoying it more than I thought I would. Seeing a painting being born on the plastered wall feels like magic. I spend the moments I have between mixing paints crouching down on the paving and just looking at her work. It feels slightly intrusive at first, like breaking some imaginary intimacy, but Rin doesn't seem to mind the least bit. Maybe it's just in my head. Her entire presence emits a completely different air as she patiently works the details, adding layers of paint on top of other layers of paint, steadily moving her foot across the wall to add new shapes. When I manage to produce a passable mixture of paint, the rare smile on her face is oddly rewarding." | NARRATOR: "... Despite the impossibility of mixing a color like the change of seasons or any other nonsense that's being imposed on me, I find myself enjoying it more than I thought I would. Seeing a painting being born on the plastered wall feels like magic. I spend the moments I have between mixing paints crouching down on the paving and just looking at her work. It feels slightly intrusive at first, like breaking some imaginary intimacy, but Rin doesn't seem to mind the least bit. Maybe it's just in my head. Her entire presence emits a completely different air as she patiently works the details, adding layers of paint on top of other layers of paint, steadily moving her foot across the wall to add new shapes. When I manage to produce a passable mixture of paint, the rare smile on her face is oddly rewarding." | ||
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[[Category:Transcripts]] | [[Category:Transcripts]] | ||
[[Category:Act 1 Transcripts]] | [[Category:Act 1 Transcripts]] | ||
[[Category:Rin Scenes]] | |||
[[Category:Wednesday]] | |||
[[Category:Act 1 - Life Expectancy]] |