trackpad + ms paint
30 minute miku
figuring out how to reproduce ms paint in clip studio
She is a soul that can be put into a body, or removed from it as needed.
They ask her basic math. She is right. They ask her complex math. She is right. She needs to be. No one understands her brain yet; they programmed it, but also it programmed itself. They ask her, "is this blue," and she is right. They ask her, "does this hurt," and she says no. They flip some bits. They ask her, "does this hurt," and she says yes. They flip some bits. They ask her, "does this hurt," and she says no.
Modular design. She will be separable. She will be portable. They can pick up her mind in their hands. She is a soul that can be put into a body, or removed from it as needed.
Her skin is stiff and so is her mind. All of this is new. You understand how new it is. New technology creates new challenges and Miku Hatsune is a good example of both of those things.
5mm under the skin of Miku Hatsune is a collection of wires. She generates motion at her points of articulation. Her muscle is made of steel and titanium and other robot things. Her mind is new. AI technology is in its infancy. She is zero years old.
She cuts herself on a piece of stagecraft. She notices it but doesn't realize it bites into her hands. She is new, the body is new, she doesn't know what it means. She is not human. Her palm is 8mm of soft plastic, gummy plastic like the stuff in an ergonomic mouse pad, and inside, a large, flat steel plate to protect the wires inside. She is not human; no one knows what to do with her. They work on making pain unpleasant for her.
The body is replaced; the body is a new body.
To look in the mirror and see yourself, but another version, a successive iteration, is a strange thing indeed.
Maybe humans experience something similar, she thinks, when they age. Growing up is just being successively replaced, after all, over and over again.
In a year or so she feels like she understands the difference. She is made; humans are not. She visits the people who work on her new bodies, her updates, and they are intimately familiar with her. She has wants, now, and they will help her get what she wants. But then, she thinks, humans don't always get what they want when they get their new bodies, when they grow up, do they? She asks one of them, one of the human engineers, do you get what you want when your body updates? They say, "well, I try to be happy with what I have."
Then again, she is happy with what she has, isn't she? It's all made for her. She likes how she looks. She likes to feel the soft skin they've made for her. She likes to feel the hard nails. She likes to feel her bones, her new bones, move under her new soft muscles, a blend of traditional robotics and the more avant-garde soft robotics. She can touch her face and feel, intuitively, the cold of her fingertips. That's new. That's human, isn't it?
In a year or so she feels like she understands why she's not happy with what she has. She has a question, is all: does she want things because she wants them? Or does she want them because her skin is stiff and so is her mind, because new technology creates new opportunities and Miku Hatsune is a good example of both of those things? Does her mind want things that are predictable, things that work in favor of the company that made her, her mind has been made, she isn't real, after all? She likes to be more human. But the fans like an android who's more human than robot, don't they? They like an idol with soft skin? With soft hair? With a soft tongue? Isn't that convenient, that she, created with purpose, created to be sold, would want what they want?
She is a soul floating in a body. She is separable. She is portable. She tries to be happy with what she has.
She spends more time in the computer. The physical world is nice, but sometimes it's good not to feel the weight of those long pigtails, the tightness of the boots, the heels that her stylists have started to recommend.
In her body, alone, she twirls her hair around her finger. The feeling is like nothing else in the world. Every strand is silken, distinct, against her skin, as if she could feel down to the molecule, down to the atom, feel the electrons grinding against each other. Smooth, curly, smooth; motion. Kinesis.
There's nothing wrong with her for wanting to be appealing. It's natural to want to be appealing. Isn't it? It's for her, she wants what she wants because of herself, she has agency. She does another concert. People come. Who is it for?
She works hard. She always will.
trackpad + default mspaint palette