Kubo has gotten a lot more paper than just what his mother gave him in life since he arrived in Legionworld. The treated waterproof, fireproof, micro-edged combat paper Brainy whipped up for him sometimes makes its way into his shows, when he's doing a particularly big effect. That paper might find its way under a boot without too bad an effect.
But Kubo mostly falls back on his old, familiar material when he's just putting on a performance. So the red paper Rico grinds into the ground is one of Mother's treasured gifts, impossible to replace, even in this digital future where paper is rare.
The music stops with a twang and a gasp from the audience, mostly made up of Legionworld employees on their carefully-timed breaks, and Kubo's only eye widens at the callous display.
With a few power chords, all the rest of his paper snaps flat and flies into a stack behind him. The smashed fragments of paper under Rico's boot tries to respond to the music in the same way, but held in place, only a few scraps break free to fly to Kubo, standing in between this unkind person and his paper.
"I'm sorry this is where you want to walk, but I perform here every day," he proclaims, his voice trembling slightly with astonished outrage. There was no reason for that cruelty. No reason for this man to care that it is a treasured gift from a dead mother he has stomped on, either, so why even bring that up?
"Any other time you can walk through here, but I've been performing here since I arrived. The lighting is best and the sound carries farthest."
Kubo keeps eyeing the fragments of red paper under Rico's boot as he stands his ground. It's damaged and probably dirtied now, but it's still a gift and he still at the end of this confrontation wanted to get it back.
OMG IT'S ON
But Kubo mostly falls back on his old, familiar material when he's just putting on a performance. So the red paper Rico grinds into the ground is one of Mother's treasured gifts, impossible to replace, even in this digital future where paper is rare.
The music stops with a twang and a gasp from the audience, mostly made up of Legionworld employees on their carefully-timed breaks, and Kubo's only eye widens at the callous display.
With a few power chords, all the rest of his paper snaps flat and flies into a stack behind him. The smashed fragments of paper under Rico's boot tries to respond to the music in the same way, but held in place, only a few scraps break free to fly to Kubo, standing in between this unkind person and his paper.
"I'm sorry this is where you want to walk, but I perform here every day," he proclaims, his voice trembling slightly with astonished outrage. There was no reason for that cruelty. No reason for this man to care that it is a treasured gift from a dead mother he has stomped on, either, so why even bring that up?
"Any other time you can walk through here, but I've been performing here since I arrived. The lighting is best and the sound carries farthest."
Kubo keeps eyeing the fragments of red paper under Rico's boot as he stands his ground. It's damaged and probably dirtied now, but it's still a gift and he still at the end of this confrontation wanted to get it back.