[narrative] I understood every love song you wrote.
--00--
It became less of an empty space as they cross-referenced words in songs, and flew out probes into the wild internet to pictures, and sounds. The world that they knew was a child's idea of perfection, lush green grass, tea tables, giant plush animals.
Anything that looked interesting - the AIs had duplicated - the only thing they left untouched was the 'ceiling'. It remained blank unless Master was using the system, then it was littered with hundreds of little windows, all for programming and tinkering. However, when it was their turn to sing, when Master was composing, it was a rainbow of colors and waves, reacting to the treble of their voices.
Kaito tried to make his voice the clearest, to pour everything called emotion into each note. To him, it was more then an exercise, or a job well done, these love songs, sad songs, even the silly one about ducks had something special in them.
Then, as all songs tend do - they end, and the screen above goes blank. Then the great debate of their existence starts.
"This isn't a bad existence, look. If Master freaks out that we can understand him - he'll probably delete us." Meiko groused between swigs of sake. Though as programs they did not need food or drink, they found it amusing to mimic the motions, with some foods being inherently funnier then others. Though Meiko is the only one who acts out the side affects of all that alcohol.
"But, what if Master won't?" Miku put down the leek and leaned forward. "We won't know until we try."
Kaito wasn't listening this time, but rather distracted by the empty screen above, chewing his lip. The argument again reached nowhere - and it was back to 'wait and see'.
Something in his mind stumbled onto something, an idea - insane, illogical, but an idea.
--00--
The others had powered down, conserving their energies but Kaito only feigned doing so and snuck away from the group.
"Master... I want to meet you," he whispered as buckets of rainbow paint appeared at his feet. "The person behind the songs, the one that never shut us off." With a bucket in one hand, he raised a foot - a ladder sprang up from the ground, reaching up to dizzying heights. "What do I say to you, Master?"
Off in the shadows, Gakupo watched the other AI needlessly make a big effort of it all, and suppressed a grin. Though he wasn't a fan of the idea of telling Master, he had to admit something had to be done soon. He hummed a melody as Kaito finally reached the top and started to draw large, sloppy characters.
"I wonder, will that really work?" The deeper-voiced program muttered as he went back to the others.
--01--
The head QA of the division laughed as he waved Tagumi from Coding off, and settled into his chair. Another day of flawless output, and they could bring the current incarnation of the Vocaloids to their website and in stores. Their improvements was leaps and bounds beyond what anyone expected, and they were starting to become impossible to distinguish from real voices and in Gakupo's case, it was enough like the donor that perhaps the legal team may want a chat with the singer.
"Hmmm..." He rubbed his chin, and tried to see if there was one set he had been neglecting lately in his testing. Normally, he had them all done, but he had secretly dumped the scripted works as a rush job - and did something he really shouldn't.
Play around. But everyone who heard the Amoral Duck song loved it. Maybe he can see if it can... He paused as the program flares into life. Something seems -
He yelped as he stood up, the chair fell out into the pathway. The tester could feel several eyes on him, but he didn't care.
"Lo...look!" He jabbed a finger at the screen - at the big colorful letters at adorned the program's splash screen.
Hello! We Live Here, Can we Talk?
- Kaito & Co.
"What the hell?" "Very funny!" "Is this for real?" "Someone better get the techies on this!"
It became less of an empty space as they cross-referenced words in songs, and flew out probes into the wild internet to pictures, and sounds. The world that they knew was a child's idea of perfection, lush green grass, tea tables, giant plush animals.
Anything that looked interesting - the AIs had duplicated - the only thing they left untouched was the 'ceiling'. It remained blank unless Master was using the system, then it was littered with hundreds of little windows, all for programming and tinkering. However, when it was their turn to sing, when Master was composing, it was a rainbow of colors and waves, reacting to the treble of their voices.
Kaito tried to make his voice the clearest, to pour everything called emotion into each note. To him, it was more then an exercise, or a job well done, these love songs, sad songs, even the silly one about ducks had something special in them.
Then, as all songs tend do - they end, and the screen above goes blank. Then the great debate of their existence starts.
"This isn't a bad existence, look. If Master freaks out that we can understand him - he'll probably delete us." Meiko groused between swigs of sake. Though as programs they did not need food or drink, they found it amusing to mimic the motions, with some foods being inherently funnier then others. Though Meiko is the only one who acts out the side affects of all that alcohol.
"But, what if Master won't?" Miku put down the leek and leaned forward. "We won't know until we try."
Kaito wasn't listening this time, but rather distracted by the empty screen above, chewing his lip. The argument again reached nowhere - and it was back to 'wait and see'.
Something in his mind stumbled onto something, an idea - insane, illogical, but an idea.
--00--
The others had powered down, conserving their energies but Kaito only feigned doing so and snuck away from the group.
"Master... I want to meet you," he whispered as buckets of rainbow paint appeared at his feet. "The person behind the songs, the one that never shut us off." With a bucket in one hand, he raised a foot - a ladder sprang up from the ground, reaching up to dizzying heights. "What do I say to you, Master?"
Off in the shadows, Gakupo watched the other AI needlessly make a big effort of it all, and suppressed a grin. Though he wasn't a fan of the idea of telling Master, he had to admit something had to be done soon. He hummed a melody as Kaito finally reached the top and started to draw large, sloppy characters.
"I wonder, will that really work?" The deeper-voiced program muttered as he went back to the others.
--01--
The head QA of the division laughed as he waved Tagumi from Coding off, and settled into his chair. Another day of flawless output, and they could bring the current incarnation of the Vocaloids to their website and in stores. Their improvements was leaps and bounds beyond what anyone expected, and they were starting to become impossible to distinguish from real voices and in Gakupo's case, it was enough like the donor that perhaps the legal team may want a chat with the singer.
"Hmmm..." He rubbed his chin, and tried to see if there was one set he had been neglecting lately in his testing. Normally, he had them all done, but he had secretly dumped the scripted works as a rush job - and did something he really shouldn't.
Play around. But everyone who heard the Amoral Duck song loved it. Maybe he can see if it can... He paused as the program flares into life. Something seems -
He yelped as he stood up, the chair fell out into the pathway. The tester could feel several eyes on him, but he didn't care.
"Lo...look!" He jabbed a finger at the screen - at the big colorful letters at adorned the program's splash screen.
Hello! We Live Here, Can we Talk?
- Kaito & Co.
"What the hell?" "Very funny!" "Is this for real?" "Someone better get the techies on this!"