darkest_fate
machina erotica
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2009
- Location
- the INTERNET
Emma Watson gasped as she landed only a little awkwardly on the street. Light sandals done in a Japanese style didn't protect her overmuch from the hard cement below; she could almost feel it reverberating up her body. The long white leggings that covered the rest of her also didn't help, though they did help some against the slight chill in the air. Emma took another breath, her now-blue eyes flicking about the Asian oriented street. The bright lights above bathed her yellow jumpsuit in bright color, further enhancing the already bright costume. Emma recalled arguing against the yellow leather and vinyl outfit, but they'd insisted on it for authenticity sake. This also went a long way toward explaining the stockings and sandals, not to mention the strangely comfortable blue contacts turning Emma's normally brown eyes into a piercing shade of blue. She did know that her hair styling did differ slightly from the characters, if only by a little, but overall, she looked a lot like Takamori Haruka, the kunoichi fighting to save the world from the Noroi.
Admittedly when Emma had first heard the plot, not to mention seeing the source material, she'd balked. True, more and more Eastern properties were being remade in the States. Hollywood mixed big budget with storylines that would impress Eastern markets, thus raking in massive international returns. Emma knew all about that, yet she still had strongly protested, had strongly felt, that there should be some adherence to matching the original ethnicity of the character. There had been some backlash, naturally, though Emma had grown used to that. In the end, there had been a deal struck. Emma would agree to star in a property and see the experience first hand. Just a short televised mini-series, which was lower budget than Emma would've accepted normally. In return, they'd produce a bigger budget picture with a more diverse cast.
Hence why Haruka for the new Western adaptation was being portrayed by an English-woman faking an American accent. Emma still suspected that someone, a lecherous friend of her agent's or perhaps the agent themself, had set this up to see her squeezed into the conforming outfit. It didn't help that the one-piece suit ended in a skirt that fell only an inch or two below Emma's thighs. Just walking showed flashes of the pristine white pantie. Emma did know the story though: sex was used to fuel the ninjas and help them. It was all pretty sex-positive stuff, which was the only reason she did it. That and the contract.
now Haruka_Emma hurried down the street, running in a style that most fans would recognize. A pointed Kunai was nestled in either hand, and Emma could feel the hard steel against her palm. They'd spent hours, weeks at least, training her to look and move naturally, and she was in the best shape of her life. Still, she felt like she was insulting someone simply by doing this.
At last she encountered her supposed "foe." She knew that the script called for her first to fight a minion of some kind, and sure enough, there appeared to be a black-clad humanoid of some kind harassing women near a park. Haruka darted forward, lashing out with a wrist while yelling out the Japanese name of her attack, a lightning move. The special effects would send some spiraling energies crackling about.
Which surprised Haruka_Emma slightly, though she didn't show it. The lightning just looked and felt so real, it nearly crackled against Emma's fingerless-gloved hands. She did know that they'd insulted her costume slightly, but she'd thought that had been for effect. Surely their budget couldn't be this high? She was already moving back, getting ready for another move against the "minion."
Admittedly when Emma had first heard the plot, not to mention seeing the source material, she'd balked. True, more and more Eastern properties were being remade in the States. Hollywood mixed big budget with storylines that would impress Eastern markets, thus raking in massive international returns. Emma knew all about that, yet she still had strongly protested, had strongly felt, that there should be some adherence to matching the original ethnicity of the character. There had been some backlash, naturally, though Emma had grown used to that. In the end, there had been a deal struck. Emma would agree to star in a property and see the experience first hand. Just a short televised mini-series, which was lower budget than Emma would've accepted normally. In return, they'd produce a bigger budget picture with a more diverse cast.
Hence why Haruka for the new Western adaptation was being portrayed by an English-woman faking an American accent. Emma still suspected that someone, a lecherous friend of her agent's or perhaps the agent themself, had set this up to see her squeezed into the conforming outfit. It didn't help that the one-piece suit ended in a skirt that fell only an inch or two below Emma's thighs. Just walking showed flashes of the pristine white pantie. Emma did know the story though: sex was used to fuel the ninjas and help them. It was all pretty sex-positive stuff, which was the only reason she did it. That and the contract.
now Haruka_Emma hurried down the street, running in a style that most fans would recognize. A pointed Kunai was nestled in either hand, and Emma could feel the hard steel against her palm. They'd spent hours, weeks at least, training her to look and move naturally, and she was in the best shape of her life. Still, she felt like she was insulting someone simply by doing this.
At last she encountered her supposed "foe." She knew that the script called for her first to fight a minion of some kind, and sure enough, there appeared to be a black-clad humanoid of some kind harassing women near a park. Haruka darted forward, lashing out with a wrist while yelling out the Japanese name of her attack, a lightning move. The special effects would send some spiraling energies crackling about.
Which surprised Haruka_Emma slightly, though she didn't show it. The lightning just looked and felt so real, it nearly crackled against Emma's fingerless-gloved hands. She did know that they'd insulted her costume slightly, but she'd thought that had been for effect. Surely their budget couldn't be this high? She was already moving back, getting ready for another move against the "minion."