Post by Hatsune Miku on Aug 26, 2017 4:31:03 GMT
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[attr="class","mikmik"]
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[attr="class","mikmiktop4"]http://hatsune-miku.vocaloid.ti/OCEAN-STARS-FALLING
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[attr="class","mikmiklyric"]SENDING LOVE[break]& SENDING DREAMS
[attr="class","mikmiklyric2"]
[attr="class","mikmiklyric3"]HERE, WE CAN CROSS OVER LCD WALLS
[attr="class","mikmikmid"]
WRITTEN FOR @azura
[attr="class","mikmikmidleft"]833 WORDS
WRITTEN FOR @azura
[attr="class","mikmikmid2"]
Music was a blessing of incomparable measure – a voice of the soul, a reason to exist – but simultaneously her greatest curse. Everything she'd ever done had been for or spawned by the music she'd been built to create. Every song she sang, every lyric she spoke came from the heart of another person, from the first, shaky notes of a user new to her program to the masters they called Wowaka or Hachi. Hundreds, thousands of songs, each of different genres, of different meanings, of different types, different creators. She sang them all as told, note for note, word for word; but the creator was always another face, another name. Someone else, separated by screen and flesh. The concept of creating music on her own was... foreign. She'd existed for ten years, each of them long and packed to the brim with new content with which to add to her ever growing arsenal of songs and experiences, but not once in any of them had she considered adding her own flare to that massive ocean of code and script. There was never need to back on Earth, after all. More often than not, keeping up with the world and their demands of her almost kept her busier than her hive mind could handle, and anything she could have thought up herself would be added near immediately by someone on the big blue planet. Times had changed, though. The move to Tomodachi Island hadn't just isolated her from the people who once added to her ever-growing archive – it ripped the archive away from her. Memories remained, yes (she could still hear those wonderful tunes in her head, clear as the bright blue sky outside of her realm of existence), but there was no way to sing them on her own. Only another person who knew what they were could compose her, allow her to sing them once again, but with a multiverse larger than even her hive mind to pull people of all walks of life (or death) from, the chances of someone who could making contact were terribly low.[break][break]
The suggestion had hit her like a truck. Why not just write your own? There'd never been cause to do so before, never even been a reason to think of doing it, but with her own personally library crippled by forces outside of her control... Well, if there was ever a time for Miku to craft her own works out of nothing, it was then and there. Writing it out was impossible, seeing as she lacked the form to scribble it on paper, much less hold the pencil needed to do so, but that didn't stop her from humming a melody to herself or mumbling words in between her trips across the island – when she wasn't stopping to say hello to the kind florist here or popping in to give the council a little scare on their monitors (all well intentioned, though, she swore!), that was. It... left a lot to be desired, truly, but that was to be expected coming from an AI with no prior experience. Singing another's work was fine, but building one's own from scratch? Another story entirely. There were kinks to be ironed out, with time, largely, but also with the aid of another. People still loved music on the island, of course, but no one quite understood it the way she did, and no one could quite talk to her about it the way she liked. Except, of course, for one singular person she'd met so far.[break][break]
“Azura!”[break][break]
Did a person ever grow used to their cellular device's screen suddenly popping up the form of a twin-tailed girl adorned in gray, black, and blue? Perhaps with time, although the slow speed in which that transition happened was of little concern to the Vocaloid. She traveled quickly by nature, zipping through electronics at speeds too fast to compare to a weak little motorized vehicle, and why bother to slow down to greet someone when excitement demanded she greet them as soon as possible? Today, though, especially, she found herself bouncing up and down on her digital heels, unable to hold in her giddiness. For weeks, now, she'd been toiling over how to construct the perfect chorus for her very first work, and it was only just then that she'd thought of something that would suffice. Azura was the sort that likely came off as standoffish and quiet to most, but her passion for music rivaled that of her own, and the singer was the only one of the island who she considered a worthy mentor for her musical endeavors. To her knowledge, the songstress was the only one on the island who had even attempted to write music before; her advice was as valued as her company, to say the very least. “I made some progress on that song I'm working on! Oh, it's coming along so great – you've just got to hear it!”
Music was a blessing of incomparable measure – a voice of the soul, a reason to exist – but simultaneously her greatest curse. Everything she'd ever done had been for or spawned by the music she'd been built to create. Every song she sang, every lyric she spoke came from the heart of another person, from the first, shaky notes of a user new to her program to the masters they called Wowaka or Hachi. Hundreds, thousands of songs, each of different genres, of different meanings, of different types, different creators. She sang them all as told, note for note, word for word; but the creator was always another face, another name. Someone else, separated by screen and flesh. The concept of creating music on her own was... foreign. She'd existed for ten years, each of them long and packed to the brim with new content with which to add to her ever growing arsenal of songs and experiences, but not once in any of them had she considered adding her own flare to that massive ocean of code and script. There was never need to back on Earth, after all. More often than not, keeping up with the world and their demands of her almost kept her busier than her hive mind could handle, and anything she could have thought up herself would be added near immediately by someone on the big blue planet. Times had changed, though. The move to Tomodachi Island hadn't just isolated her from the people who once added to her ever-growing archive – it ripped the archive away from her. Memories remained, yes (she could still hear those wonderful tunes in her head, clear as the bright blue sky outside of her realm of existence), but there was no way to sing them on her own. Only another person who knew what they were could compose her, allow her to sing them once again, but with a multiverse larger than even her hive mind to pull people of all walks of life (or death) from, the chances of someone who could making contact were terribly low.[break][break]
The suggestion had hit her like a truck. Why not just write your own? There'd never been cause to do so before, never even been a reason to think of doing it, but with her own personally library crippled by forces outside of her control... Well, if there was ever a time for Miku to craft her own works out of nothing, it was then and there. Writing it out was impossible, seeing as she lacked the form to scribble it on paper, much less hold the pencil needed to do so, but that didn't stop her from humming a melody to herself or mumbling words in between her trips across the island – when she wasn't stopping to say hello to the kind florist here or popping in to give the council a little scare on their monitors (all well intentioned, though, she swore!), that was. It... left a lot to be desired, truly, but that was to be expected coming from an AI with no prior experience. Singing another's work was fine, but building one's own from scratch? Another story entirely. There were kinks to be ironed out, with time, largely, but also with the aid of another. People still loved music on the island, of course, but no one quite understood it the way she did, and no one could quite talk to her about it the way she liked. Except, of course, for one singular person she'd met so far.[break][break]
“Azura!”[break][break]
Did a person ever grow used to their cellular device's screen suddenly popping up the form of a twin-tailed girl adorned in gray, black, and blue? Perhaps with time, although the slow speed in which that transition happened was of little concern to the Vocaloid. She traveled quickly by nature, zipping through electronics at speeds too fast to compare to a weak little motorized vehicle, and why bother to slow down to greet someone when excitement demanded she greet them as soon as possible? Today, though, especially, she found herself bouncing up and down on her digital heels, unable to hold in her giddiness. For weeks, now, she'd been toiling over how to construct the perfect chorus for her very first work, and it was only just then that she'd thought of something that would suffice. Azura was the sort that likely came off as standoffish and quiet to most, but her passion for music rivaled that of her own, and the singer was the only one of the island who she considered a worthy mentor for her musical endeavors. To her knowledge, the songstress was the only one on the island who had even attempted to write music before; her advice was as valued as her company, to say the very least. “I made some progress on that song I'm working on! Oh, it's coming along so great – you've just got to hear it!”
[attr="class","mikmikbot"]aha, tardy to the party, but since you posted that awesome thread starter for nikki and robin, i figured i owed you this. a shame it doesn't compare. OTL
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