Animation Eon Chapter 2

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Chapter Two

 

Out of the office, there was far, far more to the studio, than there would be if it existed on Earth. Its size and scale and accomodation simply would not have been possible. To call it a labyrinthian structure would be an overwhelming understatement, as well as to say it could carry the entire, current, human population. Many, many men and women busied this building. Cogs and clockwork that carried out an infinite array of jobs. Most notably, the animation. But also, concept art, storyboards, voice acting, background art, sound design, management, and several smaller ones. Of course, they did have scripts, but not a single person among them was in charge of that.

 

Despite René’s having been introduced via a plain white office, the studio was quite the contrary. In the following hallway were paintings on the walls, works by various famous artists, and works by ones he didn’t know. Of course he was familiar with Picasso, Miro, Kandinsky, and Matisse. He was not, however, familiar with Rothko, Pollock, Kooning or Mondrian. Even the walls themselves were painted wildly, as if the hands of drastically different artists melted into a massive collaborative effort. And the floor, carpeted paisley.

 

Malvin took quick notice of his immediate admiration and intrigue.

 

“You’ll get to meet those people, you know.”

 

René stopped, and stared at him. Malvin stood beside him, and continued.

 

“Why, they’re all here, at the studio. All working somewhere. Place is too darned big, I’ll tell ya that…” With a whimsical chuckle he walked forward, and René was again compelled to follow.

 

After much waning and winding through the wonderful waters of their way, through thousands of hallways, they wandered into a room with countless cubicles. An equal amount of people were curled over screens in their laps. More than just the ones in their seats, many stood and casually chatted over coffee, or other consumables. Much like Malvin’s office, all walls and decor were white. Not the workers- they stood out in their vastly differing shapes, sizes, and colors, and what they wore. All appeared average, aside from the scale.

 

“You start off here. An animator. C’mon- lemme’ show you where to sit.” René, the lost child in this situation, clung closely behind him. While walking, worry turned again to curiosity, and he soon was cautiously inspecting everyone. Most either had their backs turned, by the path they took, or their faces were covered by their cubicle. So far, he hadn’t spotted any of the artists he would, presumably, meet.

 

Eventually they found his own little area, cozied between a man and a woman. Much like René, they sported pale blonde hair, straight as can be. René, once again, cast Malvin a lost glance.

 

“Ah- what is it?” He patiently stood by the boy. “I’ll show you what to do. Don’t worry.”

 

“Uh- sir-” René blinked away a bit of brine. With intrigue, yet terror, he examined the pale red computer, matching large tablet, kind of chair- cushioned, plush, and periwinkle blue, his favorite color- the very empty desk. It was all so plain, liberating, welcoming. And he wasn’t yet ready to be welcomed into another world, for his still tethered him by thin floss.

 

“I’m only seventeen.” Gloss sheened over his large eyes. They sagged like those of a drenched puppy. Like he had done so thousands of times before, Malvin knelt down, and donned a face of perfect sympathy.

 

“You don’t have to start right away. You can wait. Would you like that, René?” With another blink, René nodded. Malvin smiled and stood. As he did, the woman with pale hair turned in her chair, with eyes and mouth wide open. She turned so quickly, some of that hair lay scribbled over her face, which she quickly brushed off, with long and slender fingers.

 

“René. Is that René? My baby René?” Her arms outstretched as if she were his mother, who she very much resembled. She was, however, not his mother.

 

“Eh, izzat René?” The man turned as well. He also very much resembled his mother. “About time we get to see ‘im, eh? ‘Bout time he shows up!” His other lightly slapped him on the arm, chastising him as he laughed. “Stop, don’t say such things!” While he went on laughing, she shook her head and smiled at the boy, who still stayed confused. Finally, they introduced themselves.

“I’m Aunt Elvira.”

“And, I’m Uncle Caden.”