callmegambit (callmegambit) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-01-14 14:10:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !complete, !partner thread, cotton weary, remy lebeau (gambit) |
Who: Remy LeBeau and Cotton Weary
What: First meeting; Remy is assigned to draw a Cotton Weary look-alike character for a comic.
Where: That Place, a cafe
When: Recently
Status: Complete
Rating: PG
Remy smiled as he stepped into the cafe, slipped off his sunglasses and peered around. He had been sent to meet Cotton Weary, and to talk with the man about ideas, as well as set up a date and time for the first session. Corporate was on fire to get this project moving, so Remy was ready and willing to move ahead quickly. He had even been given some help on his normal comics, just to get this project moving.
Which told him that they really liked this upstairs. Remy hated to admit it, but he had not known Cotton Weary before he was assigned to this. He had done some other licensed work, though, so they wanted him to do this one too. Cotton Weary had been signed as a new ‘face’, the real life face of a character who would be headlining his own comic book series. Now Remy just had to start capturing the guy’s image and he would be set for writing.
~*~
Image capturing was a new one for Cotton. He'd had plenty of offers for being the advocate for this or spokesman for that. The kind of fame Cotton held was more notoriety than anything else. People saw him as 'one of their own' which helped to sell whatever he wanted to sell. He could make or break a company based on his reaction to their products. Cotton had yet to be asked to be allowed to be captured permanently for comics.
He liked the idea more than he was willing to think about.
Raising a hand to the artist they'd hired, Cotton hoped his smile was friendly enough as he approached, "Hey there, Cotton Weary. I have to say I'm flattered to be thought of for this role. I've done some commercials, a few bit parts in film here or there, but getting to be in a superhero thing? A comic book? That's the stuff kids dream about."
Cotton hoped he was the good guy. He remembered everything now after the holidays. Being the bad guy was not something he wanted to experience ever again.
~*~
“Nice to meet you, Mister Weary. I’m Remy LeBeau. I’ll be your capture artist.” He grinned back, and nodded. “Well, apparently some of what you do has made the bosses happy, and they greenlit an entire story around your character.”
Remy nodded “You’re going to be a comic star, if the line-up works. If not, well… Just try not to get your hopes up too much. Sometimes comics do fail, despite our best work.” Then Remy shook his head, and stuck out his hand to shake the other man’s.
“Let’s find a place to sit, and I can show you what they provided me so far.”
***
Failure was something Cotton Weary required no introduction to---before everything in his life had went to Hell and he'd gone to jail for a murder he'd never committed, he'd been the son of a drunk and his highest aspiration had been completing trade school. Cotton had anticipated working until he was too old or bent or broken at the same manual labor job before dying. There had been no hopes for a brighter future filled with fame or fortune.
He hadn't even dreamed of winning the lottery.
"I think I can handle a little failure. My first television series was cancelled after the pilot. I'm what they courteously call 'Internet Famous' I think. Reality for me is it's own form of pulp fiction entertainment."
Cotton wandered through the cafe until he found a corner booth, settling against the wall. He figured the light from the window would be enough for the artist to use to capture his image. What kind of capturing did he want to do anyway? Was it going to be like a screen test for a film? Were there lines he wanted Cotton to read? His agent should have been fired for the lack of preparation she'd given him for this meeting.
"I hope this works. I figured the light from the street would be a help. Can you tell me a little about the process while you're at it? I notice you don't have a camcorder with you so I'm thinking you're literally sketching me, right?"
~*~
Remy grinned. “Then i think we’ll get along well.” He followed the man and nodded at his choice.
“This works fine. Mainly I just need at first for you to sit and drink or read, doing your best to relax. I’m going to sketch you (so yes to that, also), and once I have the base expression, I’ll ask you to try to make various others, as over the top as possible. I’ll sketch those and use the baseline expression to normalize them, later. The more over the top those are, the better, so I can get broad strokes of how your face reacts in different emotions.” Remy nodded as he pulled out a sketchbook, and showed the man some examples.
“These are a few I’ve done of others. You can see how I did a baseline, multiple emotion shots over the top, then merging sketches, showing how I slowly normalized the emotions so they would look real, or as real as comic books look.”
Remy nodded. “If things go well, and my bosses like these first sketches, we’ll likely have to meet once or twice more to do a few more poses, for action or movement images, and those times I’ll bring a camera too, so as to use less time, and capture images I can refer to later. I always prefer to do my first sketches live though, so to speak.”
***
"I do my best work live," Cotton joked, "I think that's why I do great at reality television and personal appearances, but I can't book a film role to save my life."
He thought it likely had a lot to do with the fact his filmography included movies which were questionably directed, acted, and had done only mediocre at the box office. Cotton had wanted more out of his career in acting though he'd never planned to become an actor. It seemed the ultimate way to get his name back. If he could get people to see him as a character rather than as some former convicted murderer? They might stop thinking of him as a murderer.
Cotton made himself comfortable as he tried to think of a way to act as if he weren't acting.
"You've done a lot of this kind of capturing I think? It looks good. I figure if I'm talking? I'm more likely to look natural than if I'm---trying to look natural. That's when it looks the most as if a guy is acting in my opinion: when he's trying not to act. I think we can both agree I'm not winning any Oscars in the next year so I need all the breaks I can get."
The smile he gave was self-deprecating, genuine; it revealed a hint of the young man he'd once been before prison had stolen away his youth. Cotton couldn't help grinning wider as he imagined how Sid would react to seeing him make exaggerated faces. Her face was naturally expressionistic. She was one of those women who could hide everything on the inside or let it all shine through depending on her mood which was one of many things he liked about her.
"I have to get you to promise me not to ask me to make too many really ridiculous faces while we're in public. I can just see the tabloids now. I don't attract the paparazzi the way I once did. They do still cash in on me when they can. When you say poses, you're not talking like flex like a superhero or anything, right? My trainer will have a field day if I tell him I have to look better naked for a comic book when I've refused to follow instructions for way too long."
~*~
Remy grinned, listening, and setting his things up as Cotton talked. He really did have an expressive face and Remy figured he could easily capture that, with some work. This was going to be fun. And the man seemed to like talking, so that would be fun, too.
Remy smiled as he unpacked his pad and sketching gear, and then settled back, nodding. "Yes, a few times. And talking is good, yes. Whatever makes you feel comfortable, as long as I can see your face." Remy waved at his papers. "You've got a good look, and a good set of expressions, very strong, very colorful. I think you'll come out quite well on paper."
That smile would definitely be one of those expressions Remy would try to capture, maybe next time. For now, he nodded. "Of course. For the really over the top stuff, we can settle in my studio, or anywhere else like that with good lighting. " Remy nodded.
"And no, not a superhero, but more like an action hero. And, ah, if necessary, I can sculpt in extra muscles. We don't want you to feel you have to change yourself, since, well it's you as you are now that attracted the idea." remy nodded again.
"Just talk and move, and tell me about whatever pops into your head." And with that, he started sketching.
***
Some men were naturally verbose. They were the ones who talked for the sake of talking and enjoyed sharing anecdotes with others. Cotton had always been one of those men though his father had tried to beat the impulse out of him. His tendency to talk too much had been one of the many reasons he'd given Sidney Prescott the wrong impression of his relationship with her friend Tatum Riley. Cotton had talked to Tatum as if she were an equal, a peer, rather than an underage girl bothering him at his work.
He had never made that mistake again.
These days Cotton shared menial things with his audience. He talked about his preference for authentic Italian over Italian-American cuisine and how he couldn't live without pasta no matter how much his trainer complained. Food was always an easy topic for him. It was something everyone could relate to since while not everyone could relate to being falsely convicted of a crime? Everyone had to eat. That was all a part of being human.
Cotton had a tendency to talk with his hands when he got going. He was measuring out the size of the last batch of perogies he'd tried to make up for Sid when he realized how long he'd been rambling at Mr. LeBeau.
"Sorry. I get carried away. I'm that guy who really does like the sound of his own voice. If you spend enough time in solitary? You'll figure out what I mean quick. Sorry again, I don't mean to imply you'll wind up knowing what solitary is like or jail in general. Thanks for being so nice. I know I can be---a lot. I'm a big personality."
Cotton had to be able to own who he was or he would fall into a pit he'd never crawl back out of courtesy of the disapproval or disdain or others.
"Do you have a private studio or do you have an office at the publisher's house or is there like, an artists' room? How does that all work out?"
~*~
Remy smiled. He sketched while the man talked. It was soothing, easy, even, to let the man's voice, a pleasant sound, roll over him, and watch him move, and emote, as he talked. He stayed mostly calm, and that helped as Remy got a baseline down. The lines quickly flowed, and one sketch became two, became three. And he grinned when the man paused and nodded to Cotton. "It's okay. Let me show you how we're doing." He carefully showed the man the three sketches, showing a profile, and straight on shot of Cotton's face as he talked, and the animation therein, as he got into what he was saying.
"You're not doing anything wrong. You talk well, and you let go as you talk, which helps a lot. I managed to get a lot done, and get a good impression for ideas of expressions as we worked. These, finished, will give the bosses a good idea of a baseline for storylines." Remy smiled. "I can use these to finish out some small scenes and present what I think it will look like, and if you like, send you copies when they are finished?"
He nodded. "I have a private studio in my house, yes, and sometimes also work at FML Productions, over on Graymalkin Street. We can meet next time in either place, whichever is easier for you."
***
"Those are fantastic," Cotton stated, surprised at how well he turned out on paper, "You honestly make me look a lot more interesting than what I see when I look in the mirror."
Some told him he was a good-looking guy. Mostly Cotton thought he did well enough. He knew he could be worse which helped when he was feeling the burn after a particularly terrible session with his trainer. Remy LeBeau made him look weathered yet strong, masculine. There was a worldliness about the man he captured on paper which made Cotton believe he had seen something more than what he thought he showed to his audience.
It would have made him feel uncomfortable if he hadn't gotten used to the attention.
"I'd love to see the work as it goes along. Here's a card with my email and contact information on it. That's my personal info. I don't give those to just everyone so please don't share it. I have an agent to field things for me for a reason."
Cotton laughed at himself as much as the fact he had become the kind of guy who had an agent for things.
"Coming by your studio would be great. Would you mind showing me some other work you've done? I understand if you have nondisclosure agreements or confidentiality contracts in place. I don't pretend to know how it all works. It's a lot like Disney magic to me. I have to admit I'm thrilled to be a part of the process after seeing how it's going to work with you."
~*~
“I wouldn’t mind at all.” As he stowed the card, Remy began to pull out a scrapbook, with samples he knew he could show, partially or completely finished pieces which were not x-ed out, and which showed some of his work. He thought this guy would work out great. He had a sense of humor, great expressions, and good ideas, and Remy liked that. And he didn’t have his head up his ass, that helped.
Remy smiled. This would work out just fine.
~FIN~