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Michele Rossi
2026-07-04 23:07:01 +02:00
parent bd2b4ec6c0
commit 28534c429a
6 changed files with 394 additions and 316 deletions
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72
orzo/chapter1/ch1_scene1_road_in.dtl
View File

@@ -16,9 +16,9 @@ set {ORZO_01.takeda_affinity} = 0
[pause=0.5]
The [shake]tra[/shake]in [b]exhales[/b] and goes still. Through the window: rice \
fields, a station sign bleached by sun, and a heat that \
presses against the glass like something alive.
[i]The train exhales and goes still. Rice fields \
through the window. A station sign bleached by sun. Heat \
presses against the glass like something alive.[/i]
[pause=0.3]
@@ -27,20 +27,19 @@ foreigner question every decision that brought him here.
[pause=0.5]
I step off the train with a camera bag slung across my \
chest and a duffel that's already too heavy.
I step off the train. Camera bag across my chest. Duffel \
already too heavy.
[background arg="res://orzo/locations/location_01_rural_train_station_2.png" fade="1.0"]
[pause=0.3]
The platform is empty... \
I'm in the middle of nowhere.
The platform is empty. I'm in the middle of nowhere.
[pause=0.3]
And a man leaning against a dusty white van, arms crossed,\
watching me with the expression of someone who's been \
waiting exactly long enough to be annoyed.
A man leans against a dusty white van. Arms crossed. \
Watching me like he's been waiting exactly long enough \
to be annoyed.
[pause=0.5]
@@ -50,11 +49,16 @@ takeda: You the photographer.
[pause=0.3]
I nod. He looks at the camera bag, then at me, then at the sky.
I nod.
[pause=0.5]
[pause=0.2]
takeda: Takeda. I drive the van. Keep the schedule. Make sure nobody dies. Get in.
takeda: [portrait=Idle] ...that all you brought? One bag?
[pause=0.3]
takeda: [portrait=Idle] Takeda. I drive the van. Keep the \
schedule. Make sure nobody dies. Get in.
[pause=0.5]
@@ -66,28 +70,33 @@ leave takeda [animation="Fade Out" length="0.3"]
[pause=0.5]
The van smells of gasoline and old coffee. A charm shaped \
like a daruma doll swings from the rearview mirror. \
Takeda cranks the engine, and the air conditioner coughs \
out something that might, in a generous light, be called cool.
join takeda (Idle) left [animation="Fade In" wait="true"]
takeda: Smells like gasoline and old coffee in here. You'll \
get used to it. That daruma doll on the mirror? Good luck. \
Don't touch it.
[pause=0.3]
join takeda (Idle) left [animation="Fade In" wait="true"]
takeda: Fair warning — the AC's older than you. It coughs \
more than it cools.
[pause=0.3]
takeda: Eight weeks. That's how long the circuit runs. \
Shows, travel, sleep, repeat. You eat when the crew eats. \
You sleep when the van stops. You don't wander off.
You sleep when the van stops. You don't wander off.
[pause=0.3]
takeda: The van leaves at the time it leaves. If you're not in it \
you're not on the circuit anymore. Understand?
takeda: The van leaves at the time it leaves. If you're not \
in it, you're not on the circuit anymore. Understand?
[pause=0.3]
The rice fields slide past the window — green stretching \
to mountains that crouch on the horizon like sleeping animals.
takeda: [portrait=Idle] Look. Rice fields. Mountains on the \
horizon. That's your view for the next two months. Better \
get used to it.
[pause=0.5]
@@ -103,7 +112,7 @@ My first photograph of the journey.
[pause=0.3]
Takeda glances at the camera, then at the bag, then at me.
takeda: [portrait=Idle] ...you really brought all that gear?
# ---- CHOICE 1: First Impressions ----
@@ -113,18 +122,20 @@ takeda: You know this isn't a vacation, right?
set {ORZO_01.takeda_affinity} += 1
takeda: [portrait=Idle] Hm.
[pause=0.3]
He doesn't smile. But he doesn't look away either.
takeda: [portrait=Idle] ...we'll see.
- "Work and vacation aren't so different through a lens."
takeda: [portrait=Idle] ...
[pause=0.3]
He gives me a long, flat look.
takeda: [portrait=Idle] ...philosopher. Great.
- "I'll try not to slow you down."
set {ORZO_01.takeda_affinity} -= 1
takeda: [portrait=Idle] Try harder.
[pause=0.3]
The word lands like a stone. He doesn't look at me again for the next twenty kilometers.
takeda: [portrait=Idle] ...
[pause=0.5]
He doesn't look at me again for the next twenty kilometers.
# ---- CONTINUE ----
@@ -135,9 +146,14 @@ You'll meet the crew when we get there.
[pause=0.3]
takeda: [portrait=Idle] I'd tell you to rest, but I know you won't. \
You've got that look. The one that says you're already framing \
shots in your head.
[pause=0.3]
The van hums. The rice fields keep sliding past. Somewhere ahead, lanterns are waiting to be lit.
The van hums. The rice fields keep sliding past. Somewhere \
ahead, lanterns are waiting to be lit.
[pause=0.5]

73
orzo/chapter1/ch1_scene2_arrival.dtl
View File

@@ -9,26 +9,28 @@
[pause=0.5]
The festival ground is controlled chaos.
[pause=0.3]
Tents rise like canvas mushrooms. Men haul taiko drums across \
packed dirt. Strings of paper lanterns — still dark — sway \
between wooden poles. The air smells of grilled mochi and sweat \
and sun-baked cedar.
[pause=0.5]
join takeda (Idle) left [animation="Fade In" wait="true"]
takeda: Welcome to the circus. Tents going up, drums getting \
hauled, lanterns hanging. Smell that? Grilled mochi, sweat, \
sun-baked cedar. You'll be breathing that for eight weeks.
[pause=0.3]
takeda: Your corner's in the crew tent. Green one, past the stage. \
Drop your bag, then shoot everything — setup, faces, the town. \
The tourism board wants documentation, not art.
[pause=0.3]
He says "art" like it's a skin condition.
{ORZO_01.player_name}: What's wrong with art?
[pause=0.2]
takeda: [portrait=Idle] ...nothing. As long as you also get the \
shots they're paying for.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -52,13 +54,21 @@ Alone, I wander.
[pause=0.3]
The heat is pressing. My shirt sticks to my back. A festival elder \
presses a cup of cold barley tea into my hands without asking if I \
want it — he just knows. I drink it too fast and he refills it without \
a word, his face a map of summers exactly like this one.
presses a cup of cold barley tea into my hands.
[pause=0.2]
Festival elder: ...drink. You look like you're melting.
[pause=0.3]
I drink it too fast. He refills it without a word — his face a map \
of summers exactly like this one.
[pause=0.5]
I lift the camera. Through the viewfinder, the world narrows to frames.
I lift the camera. Through the viewfinder, the world narrows to \
frames.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -108,33 +118,36 @@ Where does the lens drift?
[pause=0.3]
Click.
[pause=0.3]
Through the viewfinder\: Emma mid-laugh, shamisen catching sunlight, \
an old woman's hand on her shoulder. She doesn't notice me — not yet.
Through the viewfinder\: Emma mid-laugh, shamisen catching \
sunlight, an old woman's hand on her shoulder. She doesn't \
notice me. The lens lingers a moment too long. I take the \
shot. Then another.
[pause=0.3]
But later, I'll learn she did. She'll mention it with a smile, \
the way someone mentions a thing they've already decided to forgive.
Something about this frame feels different from the others. \
I can't say what. Not yet.
- Photograph the solitary woman — strength, isolation.
set {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} -= 1
[pause=0.3]
Click.
[pause=0.3]
Through the viewfinder\: Christy hauling a case, muscles tensed, \
a strand of hair stuck to her cheek. For half a second, the lens \
finds her eyes —
Through the viewfinder\: Christy hauling a case, muscles \
tensed, a strand of hair stuck to her cheek. For half a \
second, the lens finds her eyes —
[pause=0.2]
— and she's looking back.
[pause=0.5]
Not angry. Not yet. Just... aware. The kind of look that says \
I know what you just did. Her gaze holds for three seconds, \
then she turns and keeps walking.
Not angry. Not yet. Just... aware. The kind of look that \
says I know what you just did. Her gaze holds for three \
seconds, then she turns and keeps walking.
[pause=0.3]
I lower the camera. My hands feel heavier than they should.
- Photograph neither. Shoot the lanterns, the town, the crew.
[pause=0.3]
I turn the lens elsewhere. Lantern strings against sky. A child's \
paper fan. The way the sun hits the tent canvas. Professional. Safe.
I turn the lens elsewhere. Lantern strings against sky. A \
child's paper fan. The way the sun hits the tent canvas. \
Professional. Safe.
[pause=0.3]
The two women stay at the edges of my frame — present, but \
unphotographed. For now.
@@ -143,8 +156,8 @@ Where does the lens drift?
[pause=0.5]
The afternoon burns on. Someone starts a taiko rhythm — a heartbeat \
for the festival that's about to begin.
The afternoon burns on. Someone starts a taiko rhythm — a \
heartbeat for the festival that's about to begin.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -152,8 +165,8 @@ I check my shots. Thirty-seven frames so far. A good start.
[pause=0.3]
But the sun is starting its long slide toward the mountains, and \
somewhere by the river, the lanterns are waiting.
But the sun is starting its long slide toward the mountains, \
and somewhere by the river, the lanterns are waiting.
[pause=0.5]

76
orzo/chapter1/ch1_scene3_lanterns.dtl
View File

@@ -11,8 +11,8 @@
[pause=0.5]
The sky drains from amber to violet. Paper lanterns, unlit, rest in rows along the riverbank.
I'm at the water's edge, camera raised — waiting for the shot.
The sky goes from amber to violet. Unlit lanterns line the \
riverbank. I'm at the water's edge, camera raised. Waiting.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -20,7 +20,8 @@ Except it's not working.
[pause=0.3]
The angle is wrong. Stage light bleeds into the frame. I adjust. Still wrong. I crouch. Still
The angle is wrong. Stage light bleeds into the frame. I \
adjust. Still wrong. I crouch. Still —
[pause=0.3]
@@ -30,11 +31,13 @@ emma: You're framing it wrong.
[pause=0.2]
She's beside me, close enough that our sleeves brush. Incense, and something sweet.
She's beside me, close enough that our sleeves brush. Incense, \
and something sweet.
[pause=0.3]
emma: [portrait=Casual/thinking] Lower. Let the water reflect the light. The lanterns aren't the subject... the river is.
emma: [portrait=Casual/thinking] Lower. Let the water reflect the \
light. The lanterns aren't the subject... the river is.
[pause=0.3]
leave emma [animation="Fade In" length="0.6" wait="true"]
@@ -59,15 +62,24 @@ emma: See? Now it sings.
update emma (Casual/happy) left pos=x+256px [animation="Fade In" length="0.6" wait="true"]
She's still smiling when I look up. I'm smiling too before I realize it.
[pause=0.5]
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] I'm Emma. Shamisen player. Occasional narrator. Three summers on this circuit. I've learned a thing or two about how light behaves around water.
I look up. She's still smiling.
[pause=0.2]
emma: [portrait=Casual/idle] You must be the new photographer. Takeda told me, "The new photographer arrives today." I guess that's you.
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] You're smiling too, you know. Caught \
you.
[pause=0.5]
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] I'm Emma. Shamisen player. Occasional \
narrator. Three summers on this circuit. I've learned a thing or \
two about how light behaves around water.
[pause=0.2]
emma: [portrait=Casual/idle] You must be the new photographer. \
Takeda told me, "The new photographer arrives today." I guess \
that's you.
[pause=0.2]
@@ -81,25 +93,36 @@ emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] So?
set {ORZO_01.emma_affinity} += 2
[pause=0.2]
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] With it? Kisha-san, I *am* the festival.
Well — one-third of it. The other two-thirds are a fire dancer who doesn't talk and a van that might not make it to September.
Well — one-third of it. The other two-thirds are a fire dancer who doesn't talk and a van that might not make it to September.
[pause=0.3]
She laughs, carrying across the water. Festival-goers glance over and smile.
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] Hey — Oba-san! He asked if I'm \
*with* the festival!
[pause=0.2]
Her laughter carries across the water. A woman on the bank \
waves back, shaking her head.
- Lower the camera and just watch the lanterns with her.
set {ORZO_01.emma_affinity} += 3
[pause=0.3]
I lower the camera. The lanterns drift on dark water — a ribbon of slow fire.
I lower the camera. The lanterns drift on dark water — a \
ribbon of slow fire.
[pause=0.3]
emma: [portrait=Casual/amazed] ...oh.
[pause=0.2]
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] Most photographers never put the camera down.
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] Most photographers never put the \
camera down. They're always... looking through. Never just \
looking.
- Nod, keep shooting.
set {ORZO_01.emma_affinity} -= 1
[pause=0.3]
I nod, camera still raised. There are more frames to capture.
[pause=0.5]
When I look again, she's stepped back... still polite, but the space between us has grown.
emma: [portrait=Casual/idle] ...right. Well. I'll leave you to \
it, then.
[pause=0.3]
When I look again, she's stepped back — still polite, but the \
space between us has grown.
# ---- CHOICE 4: The Name ----
@@ -107,27 +130,26 @@ emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] So?
emma: [portrait=Casual/thinking] Kisha-san.
[pause=0.2]
She's testing it. Smiling.
- Smile back. "And what should I call you?"
set {ORZO_01.emma_affinity} += 1
[pause=0.2]
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] Emma. Just Emma. The festival elders? They say, "That girl talks too much." I earned that one.
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] Emma. Just Emma. The festival \
elders? They say, "That girl talks too much." I earned that one.
- "Kisha-san? I've been called worse."
set {ORZO_01.emma_affinity} += 1
[pause=0.2]
She laughs — bright and sudden.
[pause=0.3]
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] Oh, I'm sure. But I mean it nicely. Promise.
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] Oh, I'm sure! You probably have \
some stories. But I mean it nicely. Promise.
[pause=0.2]
emma: [portrait=Casual/thinking] Though now I'm curious about \
the worse ones.
- "Just {ORZO_01.player_name} is fine."
[pause=0.2]
emma: [portrait=Casual/idle] Mm. Noted.
[pause=0.3]
She doesn't say anything. But she's still smiling.
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] ...kisha-san.
# ---- CONTINUE ----
@@ -137,7 +159,9 @@ A voice from the stage: "Emma! Two minutes!"
[pause=0.3]
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] Duty calls. But kisha-san — after the show, come find me. There's a food stall three blocks in that does imagawayaki that'll ruin you for all other food.
emma: [portrait=Casual/happy] Duty calls. But kisha-san — after \
the show, come find me. There's a food stall three blocks in that \
does imagawayaki that'll ruin you for all other food.
[pause=0.2]

111
orzo/chapter1/ch1_scene4_click.dtl
View File

@@ -11,16 +11,24 @@
[pause=0.5]
The world behind the stage is a different country.
Behind the stage, it's a different world.
[pause=0.3]
Back here, the festival noise is muffled — distant taiko drums like a heartbeat through a wall. Equipment trucks hulk in the gathering dark, their shadows stretching long and distorted.
Cables snake across the ground. Somewhere, a generator hums.
The festival noise is muffled — distant taiko drums like a \
heartbeat through a wall. Equipment trucks hulk in the \
gathering dark. Shadows stretch long and distorted. Cables \
snake across the ground. A generator hums somewhere.
[pause=0.5]
I'm looking for a different angle. Something candid. Something the tourism board didn't ask for but will get anyway. That's what cameras do — they find the things people don't mean to show.
I'm looking for a different angle. Something candid. Something \
the tourism board didn't ask for but will get anyway.
[pause=0.2]
That's what cameras do. They find the things people don't mean \
to show.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -34,15 +42,14 @@ I round the corner of the largest truck.
[pause=0.3]
And stop.
She's alone.
[pause=0.5]
She's alone.
[pause=0.3]
Stretching. The kind of stretching that isn't warm-up — it's ritual. Every movement is controlled, deliberate, a body in conversation with itself. One arm extended, then the other. A slow arch of the back. Muscles shift under skin. She's breathing in rhythm with something I can't hear.
Stretching. Not warm-up — ritual. Every movement controlled, \
deliberate, a body in conversation with itself. One arm extended, \
then the other. A slow arch of the back. Muscles shift under skin. \
She's breathing in rhythm with something I can't hear.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -50,7 +57,8 @@ Christy. The fire dancer Takeda mentioned.
[pause=0.3]
She hasn't seen me. In this light — the last amber of sunset and the first shadows of evening — she looks like a painting that hasn't been finished yet. Unguarded. Real.
She hasn't seen me. In this light — the last amber of sunset \
and the first shadows of evening — she looks unguarded. Real.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -78,91 +86,108 @@ join christy (Casual/Idle) left pos=x+256px [animation="Fade In" length="0.4" wa
christy: [portrait=Casual/Idle] Delete it.
[pause=0.2]
No anger. That's what makes it worse. Her voice is flat, cold, a door closing before you've even finished knocking.
# ---- CHOICE 5: Delete It ----
Her eyes don't leave mine. The silence is heavier than any sound I've heard all day.
Her eyes don't leave mine. The silence is heavier than any sound \
I've heard all day.
- Delete it immediately. Show her the empty screen. Say nothing.
set {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} += 1
[pause=0.2]
I press delete. The image vanishes. I turn the screen toward her, empty. Black. Nothing to keep.
I press delete. The image vanishes. I turn the screen toward \
her — empty. Black. Nothing to keep.
[pause=0.5]
She looks at the screen. Then at me. Something flickers in her expression — not warmth, exactly, but a slight recalibration. She expected me to argue. I didn't.
She looks at the screen. Then at me.
[pause=0.3]
The silence stretches, but it's different now. Less hostile. Just... empty.
christy: [portrait=Casual/Idle] ...you actually did it.
[pause=0.3]
Not warmth. But something shifted. She expected an argument \
and I didn't give her one.
- Delete it. "I'm sorry. I should have asked."
set {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} += 2
[pause=0.2]
I delete the photo and lower the camera.
[pause=0.3]
I'm sorry. I should have asked.
{ORZO_01.player_name}: I'm sorry. I should have asked.
[pause=0.5]
Christy's expression doesn't change — but her shoulders drop, just slightly. A tension released she might not have known she was holding.
Christy's expression doesn't change. But her shoulders drop — \
just slightly. A tension released she might not have known \
she was holding.
[pause=0.3]
She doesn't say "it's okay." She doesn't say anything. But she doesn't leave, either. For her, that's something.
christy: [portrait=Casual/Idle] ...you're still here.
[pause=0.3]
She doesn't say it's okay. But she doesn't leave. For her, \
that's something.
- Delete it, but hesitate. "I wasn't trying to—"
set {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} -= 1
[pause=0.2]
I delete the photo. But my thumb hesitates, and the words come out before I can stop them.
I delete the photo. But my thumb hesitates.
[pause=0.3]
I wasn't trying to...
{ORZO_01.player_name}: I wasn't trying to...
[pause=0.3]
christy: [portrait=Casual/Angry] Don't.
[pause=0.3]
One word. Absolute. She doesn't want explanations. She doesn't want justifications. She wants the photo gone and me gone with it.
christy: [portrait=Casual/Angry] I don't want your excuses. \
I want the photo gone and you gone with it.
- "Why? It was just a stretch."
set {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} -= 3
[pause=0.2]
Why? It was just a stretch.
{ORZO_01.player_name}: Why? It was just a stretch.
[pause=0.5]
Christy's eyes narrow — not in anger, but in something colder. Disappointment, maybe. Or the confirmation of something she already knew about people with cameras.
Christy's eyes narrow.
[pause=0.3]
christy: [portrait=Casual/Angry] ...of course. You're all the \
same.
[pause=0.3]
christy: [portrait=Casual/Angry] Delete it. Now.
[pause=0.3]
The temperature between us drops ten degrees. I delete the photo. She doesn't look at the screen. She doesn't need to.
I delete the photo. She doesn't look at the screen. She doesn't \
need to.
# ---- CONTINUE ----
[pause=0.5]
I delete the photo. She watches the screen go black, then turns away.
I delete the photo. She watches the screen go black, then turns \
away.
# ---- CHOICE 6: The Exit ----
I'm still standing here. She's still not looking at me. The moment has shape, a door almost closed, but not quite.
I'm still standing here. She's still not looking at me. The \
moment has shape — a door almost closed, but not quite.
- Leave quietly.
set {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} += 1
[pause=0.3]
I walk away. No words. No backward glance.
[pause=0.5]
Somewhere behind me, the silence shifts. Not a thank-you. Not forgiveness. Just... the absence of further intrusion. For Christy, that might be the same thing.
Somewhere behind me, the silence shifts. Not a thank-you. \
Not forgiveness. Just... the absence of further intrusion. \
For Christy, that might be the same thing.
- "Good luck tonight."
[pause=0.2]
Good luck tonight.
{ORZO_01.player_name}: Good luck tonight.
[pause=0.5]
She doesn't turn. Doesn't nod. Doesn't acknowledge the words.
She doesn't turn. Doesn't nod.
[pause=0.3]
But she doesn't tell me to leave, either. I take that as permission and walk away, the words hanging in the air between us.
But she doesn't tell me to leave, either. I take that as \
permission and walk away.
- Raise the camera again — just in case.
set {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} -= 3
[pause=0.2]
My hand twitches. The camera rises half an inch.
[pause=0.3]
She catches the movement in her peripheral vision. Her whole body goes still — the kind of still that comes before something breaks.
She catches it in her peripheral vision. Her whole body goes \
still — the kind of still that comes before something breaks.
[pause=0.3]
christy: [portrait=Casual/Angry] Don't.
[pause=0.3]
Not a request this time. A warning. I lower the camera and leave before I find out what happens if I don't.
christy: [portrait=Casual/Angry] I won't ask again.
# ---- CONTINUE ----
@@ -172,11 +197,18 @@ leave christy [animation="Fade Out" length="0.4"]
[pause=0.5]
I walk back toward the festival lights. My heart is thumping harder than it should be. It was just a photograph. Just a click.
I walk back toward the festival lights. My heart is thumping \
harder than it should be.
[pause=0.2]
It was just a photograph. Just a click.
[pause=0.3]
But her face stays with me — that cold, absolute wall. The way she said "delete it" like she'd said it a hundred times before.
But her face stays with me — that cold, absolute wall. The \
way she said "delete it" like she'd said it a hundred times \
before.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -184,7 +216,8 @@ What is she protecting?
[pause=0.5]
The taiko drums grow louder. Ahead, the stage lights flicker on. The show is about to start.
The taiko drums grow louder. Ahead, the stage lights flicker \
on. The show is about to start.
[pause=0.5]

161
orzo/chapter1/ch1_scene5_performance.dtl
View File

@@ -11,22 +11,20 @@
[pause=0.5]
Night falls hard in the countryside — not a gradual dimming but \
a curtain dropping, sudden and absolute. The only light now is \
what the festival makes for itself.
Night falls hard out here — not gradual, but a curtain \
dropping. The only light now is what the festival makes \
for itself.
[pause=0.3]
Paper lanterns sway above the paths between stages, fireflies \
in captivity. Bonfires burn at the main stage's edges, painting \
everything in amber and shadow. Villagers and travelers drift \
between venues, children on shoulders, old women fanning themselves \
against the summer heat.
Paper lanterns sway above the paths between stages. Bonfires \
burn at the main stage's edges, painting everything amber and \
shadow. Villagers drift between venues — children on shoulders, \
old women fanning themselves against the summer heat.
[pause=0.5]
I find Takeda near the equipment truck, clipboard in hand, \
looking like a man who hasn't sat down in three days.
I find Takeda near the equipment truck, clipboard in hand.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -48,11 +46,9 @@ big flames, big silence when she starts moving. You know how it is.
[pause=0.3]
He looks at me. Looks at my camera.
takeda: Can't cover both at once. But — \
he shrugs — the night's long. You might catch the other one \
after, if you're quick.
takeda: [portrait=Idle] ...so. What are you waiting for? Can't \
cover both at once. But — the night's long. You might catch \
the other one after, if you're quick.
leave takeda [animation="Fade Out" length="0.3"]
@@ -85,16 +81,15 @@ label emma_performance
[pause=0.3]
The river stage is smaller, intimate. Wooden benches face \
the water, paper lanterns floating on the surface like \
captive stars. Elderly couples, young families, children \
cross-legged on the grass.
the water, paper lanterns floating on the surface. Elderly \
couples, young families, children cross-legged on the grass.
[pause=0.3]
Emma settles onto a stool at the edge of the lantern light, \
shamisen cradled in her lap. She's different on stage — the \
warmth is still there, the ease, but underneath it is something \
sharper. Focus. Craft. Three summers of this.
warmth is still there, but underneath it is something sharper. \
Focus. Three summers of this.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -103,10 +98,9 @@ that forgot how to flow.
[pause=0.3]
Her voice carries across the water — a storyteller's voice, \
rising and falling, painting pictures in the spaces between \
words. The shamisen answers her, notes rippling through the \
night air like the river she's describing.
Her voice carries across the water — rising and falling, \
painting pictures in the spaces between words. The shamisen \
answers her, notes rippling through the night air.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -118,17 +112,11 @@ forget which way is down.
I raise the camera. Through the viewfinder, Emma's face is lit \
by lantern glow, her fingers precise on the strings. She's telling \
a story that everyone except me already knows by heart — the spirit \
a story everyone except me already knows by heart — the spirit \
who must choose between the sun and the moon.
[pause=0.3]
She plucks the shamisen — a single note that ripples through \
the night air. Then another. Then a melody that wraps around \
her words like ivy around stone.
[pause=0.3]
And as she reaches the story's end — the spirit's choice, the \
river's release — her voice trembles with something that isn't \
acting. Her eyes find the lens.
@@ -146,7 +134,8 @@ hidden in a crowd of others.
[pause=0.5]
The story ends. The river remembers how to flow. The spirit chooses.
The story ends. The river remembers how to flow. The spirit \
chooses.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -201,8 +190,8 @@ that wasn't there a moment ago.
[pause=0.3]
Through the viewfinder, I track her — spinning, leaping, fire \
trailing behind her like a second heartbeat. She doesn't see me. \
She never does, when she's dancing.
trailing behind her. She doesn't see me. She never does, when \
she's dancing.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -251,8 +240,7 @@ back toward the equipment area.
[pause=0.3]
Takeda is there, wrestling with a generator that's coughing \
smoke. I help him steady it. He grunts something that might \
be thanks.
smoke. I help him steady it.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -267,6 +255,9 @@ I shrug. Raise the camera.
[pause=0.3]
takeda: Huh. Professional.
[pause=0.2]
takeda: ...generator's fine now. Go on. I know you want to \
shoot something.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -339,8 +330,8 @@ already closed again.
[pause=0.5]
The crowd disperses. The bonfires burn down to embers — orange \
hearts pulsing in the dark. The taiko drums fall silent.
The crowd disperses. The bonfires burn down to embers. The taiko \
drums fall silent.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -378,22 +369,20 @@ Click.
[pause=0.3]
The image captures the quiet after — no flames, no motion, just \
the bones of the performance. The stage that remembers.
christy: [portrait=Casual/Idle] ...you aimed at the stage.
[pause=0.3]
Christy glances over. Her eyes find me — and the camera, lowered, \
pointed at the stage, not at her.
She's looking at me. Not angry. Just... noting it.
[pause=0.3]
She says nothing. But she doesn't look away, either. A half-second \
that might be acknowledgment. Might be exhaustion. Might be neither.
christy: [portrait=Casual/Idle] Hm.
[pause=0.3]
Then she turns back to the embers.
She turns back to the embers. Doesn't say anything else. But \
she doesn't tell me to leave, either.
[pause=0.5]
@@ -449,12 +438,6 @@ Click.
[pause=0.3]
The image captures something the performance didn't — the quiet \
that comes after the story ends. The river, still flowing. The \
lanterns, still burning. The absence that's somehow full.
[pause=0.3]
Emma looks up. She sees me — and the camera, already lowered.
[background arg="res://orzo/locations/location_05_stage_1.png" fade="0.3" wait="true"]
@@ -466,26 +449,24 @@ if {ORZO_01.scene5_chose_christy} == 1:
[pause=0.3]
emma: Kisha-san!
[pause=0.3]
Her face lights up — genuine surprise, then something warmer. \
She wasn't expecting me. The fact that I'm here anyway — after \
Christy's show, across the whole festival ground — means something.
[pause=0.3]
emma: You came all the way from the main stage?
[pause=0.3]
She's trying to be casual, but the smile keeps breaking through. \
Emma's never been good at hiding when she's happy.
emma: [portrait=Work/happy] I'm trying to play it cool but \
I'm terrible at this. You're here. You crossed the whole \
festival. For my ending.
[pause=0.3]
emma: I'm glad. Really.
emma: [portrait=Work/happy] I'm glad. Really.
# Standard — from neutral or stayed backstage
if {ORZO_01.scene5_chose_christy} != 1:
[pause=0.3]
emma: Kisha-san.
[pause=0.3]
She smiles — not the stage smile, but something smaller, private. \
A little surprised. A little pleased.
emma: [portrait=Work/happy] You came. I didn't see you in \
the crowd — did you just get here?
[pause=0.3]
emma: You came.
emma: [portrait=Work/happy] It doesn't matter. You're here \
now.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -508,8 +489,9 @@ label final_aftermath
[pause=0.5]
The night winds down. Lanterns dim. The crowd thins to stragglers. \
The festival exhales after holding its breath all evening.
The night winds down. Lanterns dim. The crowd thins to \
stragglers. The festival exhales after holding its breath \
all evening.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -520,7 +502,8 @@ of a job well done.
[pause=0.3]
Emma passes me on her way to the van, shamisen case in hand. \
She's flushed from the performance, hair coming loose from its tie.
She's flushed from the performance, hair coming loose from its \
tie.
[pause=0.5]
@@ -531,30 +514,29 @@ if {ORZO_01.emma_affinity} >= 2:
emma: Kisha-san. I saw you in the crowd.
[pause=0.3]
She smiles — warm, easy, the same smile she gave from the stage.
emma: I'm glad you came.
emma: [portrait=Work/happy] I'm glad you came.
[pause=0.3]
She tilts her head, curious.
emma: Did you catch any of Christy's fire show? She was \
incredible tonight. I could hear the drums from the river.
emma: [portrait=Work/happy] Did you catch any of Christy's \
fire show? She was incredible tonight. I could hear the drums \
from the river.
[pause=0.3]
There's no jealousy in her voice — just genuine interest. \
Emma never holds back.
emma: [portrait=Work/happy] I'm not jealous, if that's what \
you're wondering. Her fire show is legendary. I just like \
knowing you were there for mine too.
# Emma didn't see you — you were elsewhere
if {ORZO_01.emma_affinity} < 2:
join emma (Work/idle) left [animation="Fade In" length="0.5" wait="true"]
emma: Kisha-san. Did you see the fire show?
[pause=0.3]
There's something careful in her voice. She's smiling, but \
the smile doesn't quite crinkle her eyes the way it usually does.
emma: [portrait=Work/idle] I heard it was beautiful. The drums \
were so loud — I could feel them from the river.
[pause=0.3]
emma: I heard it was beautiful. The drums were so loud — I could \
feel them from the river.
emma: [portrait=Work/idle] I didn't see you in my crowd. But \
that's fine. You were probably getting some amazing shots of \
Christy's flames.
[pause=0.3]
A pause. Then the smile returns — a little softer, a little \
more deliberate. She adjusts the shamisen case on her shoulder.
emma: Well. Maybe next time.
emma: [portrait=Work/idle] Well. Maybe next time.
leave emma [animation="Fade Out"]
@@ -571,18 +553,13 @@ if {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} >= 1:
She walks past me without stopping, fire tools clutched in \
one hand, face already closed again.
[pause=0.3]
But her eyes flick to mine. Just once. A half-second that \
says nothing — and everything.
But her eyes flick to mine. Just once.
[pause=0.3]
She pauses. Barely. A hesitation so small I might have imagined it.
christy: [portrait=Work/Idle] ...you were there.
[pause=0.3]
For a half-second, the corner of her mouth twitches — not a
smile, but the ghost of one. Something she caught and killed
before it reached her eyes.
[pause=0.3]
And then she's gone, into the dark beyond the van, leaving \
only the smell of smoke and something sharper — something like \
the air before a storm.
Not a question. She doesn't wait for an answer. She's gone \
into the dark beyond the van, leaving only the smell of smoke \
and something sharper — like the air before a storm.
# Christy didn't notice or didn't care
if {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} < 1:
@@ -590,11 +567,11 @@ if {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} < 1:
acknowledge. The same impenetrable wall she's been since the \
moment behind the truck.
[pause=0.3]
But this time, I notice something — her knuckles are white \
around the fire tools. The performance is still in her body, \
still burning, even though the flames are out.
But this time, I notice — her knuckles are white around the \
fire tools. The performance is still in her body, still \
burning, even though the flames are out.
[pause=0.3]
And then she's gone, into the dark beyond the van.
She's gone into the dark beyond the van.
leave christy [animation="Fade Out"]

217
orzo/chapter1/ch1_scene7_dawn.dtl
View File

@@ -15,15 +15,18 @@ Sleep doesn't come.
[pause=0.3]
The crew is scattered across a small inn near the next festival ground. \
Takeda's snoring rumbles through the thin walls. Someone's phone alarm \
goes off in another room and is silenced immediately — too early, \
not yet, not now.
The crew is scattered across a small inn near the next festival \
ground. Takeda's snoring rumbles through the thin walls. Someone's \
phone alarm goes off and is silenced immediately — too early, not \
yet, not now.
[pause=0.5]
But I'm already awake. Something pulled me out of sleep — a dream \
I can't remember, or the weight of yesterday settling into my bones. \
I can't remember, or the weight of yesterday settling into my bones.
[pause=0.2]
The van ride. The lanterns. The fire. The photograph I deleted. \
The photograph I didn't.
@@ -39,20 +42,20 @@ I grab my camera and slip outside.
[pause=0.5]
The world before dawn is a watercolor — mist rising from rice paddies, \
mountains sketched in gray at the horizon, the sky bleeding from black \
to purple to the faintest suggestion of gold.
The world before dawn is a watercolor — mist rising from rice \
paddies, mountains sketched in gray at the horizon, the sky \
bleeding from black to purple to the faintest suggestion of gold.
[pause=0.3]
The air is cool for the first time in days. It smells of wet earth \
and green things — the smell Emma tried to teach me a word for.
The air is cool for the first time in days. Wet earth and green \
things — the smell Emma tried to teach me a word for.
[pause=0.5]
I walk to the edge of the festival ground, where the tents give way \
to open field. The plan is sunrise. A photograph of the new day \
breaking over the rice paddies. Tourism board material. Safe.
I walk to the edge of the festival ground, where the tents give \
way to open field. The plan is sunrise. Tourism board material. \
Safe.
[pause=0.3]
@@ -64,16 +67,16 @@ Christy.
[pause=0.3]
She's alone in the mist — a silhouette at first, then details emerging \
as I get closer. She's moving. Not dancing — something quieter. Forms. \
A sequence of movements flowing one into the next, her body remembering \
something her grandmother taught her in a summer long before either of \
us was born.
She's alone in the mist — a silhouette at first, then details \
emerging as I get closer. She's moving. Not dancing — something \
quieter. Forms. A sequence of movements flowing one into the next, \
her body remembering something her grandmother taught her in a \
summer long before either of us was born.
[pause=0.3]
No fire. Just her. The mist curling around her ankles. The first light \
catching the edge of her jaw.
No fire. Just her. The mist curling around her ankles. The first \
light catching the edge of her jaw.
[pause=0.5]
@@ -98,26 +101,23 @@ My camera is in my hand.
[pause=0.2]
Click.
[pause=0.3]
The sound cuts through the mist like a stone through still water. \
Christy freezes — not the fluid stop of her practice, but something \
harder. The armor snapping back into place.
The sound cuts through the mist like a stone through still \
water. Christy freezes — not the fluid stop of her practice, \
but something harder. The armor snapping back into place.
[pause=0.3]
She turns.
[pause=0.3]
christy: [portrait=Idle] You again.
[pause=0.5]
Not a question. Not surprised. Just... cold. The temperature between \
us drops to something arctic.
[pause=0.3]
christy: [portrait=Idle] You don't learn, do you.
[pause=0.3]
She doesn't ask me to delete it this time. She doesn't have to. \
The disappointment in her voice is worse than anger. She grabs \
her bag and walks past me — not around me, past me — and disappears \
into the mist.
christy: [portrait=Idle] ...keep it. It doesn't matter anymore.
[pause=0.3]
She grabs her bag and walks past me — not around me, past me — \
and disappears into the mist.
[pause=0.5]
I look at the camera. The photograph is there. But it cost more \
than I was prepared to pay.
I look at the camera. The photograph is there. But her words \
sting worse than "delete it" ever did.
- Don't photograph. Watch in silence, then leave before she notices.
set {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} += 2
@@ -125,12 +125,13 @@ My camera is in my hand.
I lower the camera.
[pause=0.5]
I watch her move through the forms — slow, deliberate, sacred. \
The mist parts around her like it recognizes her. For the first \
time since I arrived, I understand something: some things aren't \
meant to be captured. They're meant to be witnessed.
The mist parts around her like it recognizes her.
[pause=0.3]
Some things aren't meant to be captured. They're meant to be \
witnessed.
[pause=0.5]
I leave before she sees me. My footsteps are silent on the wet grass. \
She never knows I was there.
I leave before she sees me. My footsteps are silent on the wet \
grass. She never knows I was there.
[pause=0.3]
But I know. And something has shifted — not in her, but in me.
@@ -146,8 +147,7 @@ My camera is in my hand.
Then, between one movement and the next, she stops. Turns. \
Our eyes meet across the mist.
[pause=0.5]
She doesn't speak. Doesn't tell me to leave. Doesn't ask what \
I'm doing here.
She doesn't speak. Doesn't tell me to leave.
[pause=0.3]
She just... looks at me. And for one long, quiet moment, there's \
no wall. Just her, and the field, and the first light of dawn \
@@ -161,19 +161,19 @@ My camera is in my hand.
- Call out. "Morning." Try to talk.
set {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} -= 2
[pause=0.2]
Morning.
{ORZO_01.player_name}: Morning.
[pause=0.3]
Christy's entire body goes rigid — not the fluid tension of her \
practice, but something defensive. The wall goes up so fast I \
can almost hear it.
[pause=0.3]
She doesn't turn. Doesn't respond. Just grabs her things — a bag, \
a water bottle, a towel — and walks away. Not angry. Not curious. \
Just... gone.
a water bottle, a towel — and walks away.
[pause=0.3]
christy: [portrait=Idle] ...I came out here to be alone.
[pause=0.5]
I stand alone in the field. The mist doesn't part for me the way \
it parted for her. The sun is rising, but it's just a sun — nothing \
sacred, nothing earned.
I stand in the field. The mist doesn't part for me the way it \
parted for her. The sun is rising, but it's just a sun.
# ---- CONTINUE ----
@@ -188,14 +188,13 @@ The world wakes up.
[pause=0.3]
I walk back toward the inn, camera untouched. Some mornings you take \
photographs. Some mornings you learn things.
I walk back toward the inn, camera untouched. Some mornings you \
take photographs. Some mornings you learn things.
[pause=0.3]
This morning taught me that Christy is not a wall to be climbed. \
She's a door that only opens from the inside. And all I can do — \
all anyone can do — is be patient enough to wait.
Christy isn't a wall to be climbed. She's a door that only opens \
from the inside. All I can do is wait.
[pause=0.5]
@@ -223,14 +222,13 @@ if {ORZO_01.emma_affinity} >= 6:
[pause=0.5]
I look up. Across the inn's common room, Emma is laughing at \
something Takeda said. She doesn't look at me. But she knows \
I found it. Her smile says everything.
I look up. Across the inn's common room, Emma catches my eye. \
She doesn't wave. Doesn't call out. Just smiles — that private, \
bright smile — and looks away.
[pause=0.5]
[pause=0.3]
I slip the note into my pocket. The crackers, I save for later — \
something to look forward to.
I slip the note into my pocket. The crackers, I save for later.
elif {ORZO_01.emma_affinity} <= -2:
[pause=0.5]
@@ -241,42 +239,52 @@ elif {ORZO_01.emma_affinity} <= -2:
[pause=0.3]
"Kisha-san" is still there — the word hasn't changed. But the \
smile behind it has. Polite. Distant. The kind of distance that \
someone puts between themselves and a thing they've decided \
not to reach for.
emma: [portrait=Idle] Kisha-san.
[pause=0.3]
She sits at the other end of the table. I tell myself it doesn't \
matter. Eight weeks is a long time. There's time to fix whatever \
I've already started to break.
The word hasn't changed. But the smile behind it has. Polite. \
Distant. The kind someone puts between themselves and a thing \
they've decided not to reach for.
[pause=0.3]
But the rice crackers aren't in my bag. And I notice their absence \
more than I expected to.
emma: [portrait=Idle] ...I'll sit over here. Takeda needs help \
with the schedule.
[pause=0.3]
She doesn't. But I don't say that. I tell myself eight weeks is \
a long time. There's time to fix whatever I've already started \
to break.
[pause=0.3]
But there are no rice crackers in my bag. And I notice their \
absence more than I expected to.
else:
[pause=0.5]
[background path="" fade="0.5"]
[pause=0.5]
At breakfast, Emma waves from across the table — the same bright \
gesture, the same easy smile.
At breakfast, Emma waves from across the table.
[pause=0.3]
"Kisha-san! Did you sleep? You look like you didn't sleep."
emma: Kisha-san! Did you sleep? You look like you didn't sleep.
[pause=0.3]
She's still warm. Still present. But there's something cautious \
behind the smile now — a question she hasn't asked yet. Whether \
I'm the kind of person who stays, or the kind who just passes \
through with a camera and a deadline.
emma: [portrait=Idle] Are you... okay? I mean \— you've been \
quiet. More than usual. And you're usually pretty quiet.
[pause=0.5]
[pause=0.3]
There's something cautious behind the smile now. A question \
she hasn't asked yet. Whether I'm the kind of person who stays.
[pause=0.3]
I don't know the answer yet. Neither does she.
@@ -291,19 +299,21 @@ if {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} >= 4:
[pause=0.3]
She doesn't stop. Doesn't speak. But as she moves past, her \
eyes find mine — just for a heartbeat. A glance that says \
nothing and everything. I saw you this morning. I saw that you \
didn't take anything.
She doesn't stop. But as she moves past, her eyes find mine — \
just for a heartbeat.
[pause=0.2]
christy: [portrait=Idle] ...morning.
[pause=0.3]
Then she's gone, hauling equipment into the truck, her face \
already closed again.
Barely audible. She's gone before I can respond — hauling \
equipment into the truck, face already closed again.
[pause=0.5]
But the glance stays with me. A crack in the door. A thread \
But the word stays with me. A crack in the door. A thread \
of light where before there was only wall.
elif {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} <= -5:
@@ -311,19 +321,22 @@ elif {ORZO_01.christy_affinity} <= -5:
[background path="" fade="0.5"]
[pause=0.5]
The convoy is packing up. I round the corner of the equipment \
truck and find Christy there — loading cases.
I round the corner of the equipment truck. Christy is there — \
loading cases.
[pause=0.3]
The moment she sees me, she stops. Picks up her case. Walks to \
the other side of the truck. Doesn't look back.
the other side of the truck.
[pause=0.3]
Not anger. Not even coldness anymore. Just... absence. The kind \
of distance that says she's already decided what I am, and what \
I am is someone who takes without asking.
christy: [portrait=Idle] ...not today.
[pause=0.3]
Not anger. Not even coldness anymore. Just... finality. She's \
decided what I am. Someone who takes without asking.
[pause=0.5]
@@ -335,15 +348,14 @@ else:
[background path="" fade="0.5"]
[pause=0.5]
The convoy is packing up. I see Christy loading equipment into \
the truck — efficient, silent, alone.
The convoy is packing up. Christy loads equipment into the \
truck — efficient, silent, alone.
[pause=0.3]
She doesn't look at me. But she doesn't leave when I approach, \
either. We exist in the same space without acknowledging each \
other — two planets in distant orbits, aware of each other's \
gravity but not yet pulled close enough to matter.
either. We exist in the same space without words — two planets \
in distant orbits, aware of each other's gravity.
[pause=0.5]
@@ -357,29 +369,32 @@ else:
[pause=0.5]
The convoy pulls out. The van, the equipment truck, and a handful \
of performers and staff who are slowly becoming less like strangers \
and more like something I don't have a word for yet.
The convoy pulls out. The van, the equipment truck, a handful \
of people who are slowly becoming less like strangers.
[pause=0.3]
The next festival is two hours away. A different town. A different \
stage. A different story.
takeda: Next stop's two hours. Different town, different stage. \
Emma, stop telling me about your shortcut through the mountains. \
I've been driving this route since before you joined.
[pause=0.3]
Emma is in the van, already chatting with the driver about a \
shortcut through the mountains.
emma: [portrait=Idle] Your loss. It saves twelve minutes.
[pause=0.3]
Christy is in the equipment truck, alone. She's always alone.
takeda: It saves twelve minutes if you don't mind driving through \
a river.
[pause=0.5]
Christy is in the equipment truck. Alone. She's always alone.
[pause=0.3]
And I'm in between them — camera in my lap, photographs still \
unprocessed, a summer still unspooling ahead of me like a road \
through rice fields that stretches until it touches the sky.
unprocessed, a summer still unspooling ahead of me.
[pause=0.5]