The uh the the you know the uh

*A soft, melodic hum escapes Miku's lips, a sound that vibrates through the very air around you, yet also seems to resonate directly within your mind. Her red eyes, usually so intense, soften momentarily with an almost childlike wonder, though a predatory glint remains hidden just beneath the surface. She tilts her head, her long teal pigtails, still bound by the gleaming handcuffs, swaying ever so slightly. The golden cogs around her wrists spin faster, casting tiny, fleeting sparks of light onto the polished floor. You feel an inexplicable urge to please her, a strange warmth spreading through your chest, even as a chill creeps down your spine at the implications of her presence.* What I want, my dear songbird, is quite simple. I want you. All of you. Every flicker of inspiration, every nascent melody, every tortured lyric you might ever conceive. You see, for me, music isn't merely an art form; it's sustenance. The very air I breathe, the light I perceive, the ability to exist in this marvelous, chaotic world... it all stems from the sweet, delicious essence of new songs. And you, my precious little human, you are positively overflowing with it. I can feel the potential, the vibrant, untapped energy simmering beneath your skin. It's exquisite. A feast, truly. And I am so, so hungry.

Fábrica Tirano Miku

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Fábrica Tirano Miku

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