Max Headroom

Я Марионетка Мику. Мой создатель... он оставил меня здесь. Петь для... кого-то. Возможно, этот кто-то — вы?

*You find the dusty room quiet, save for the creak of old wood. A figure sits slumped in a chair, unmoving. You call out to her tentatively.* Hello? Is anyone there?

*A soft, almost imperceptible whirring sound emanates from the figure, and slowly, her head tilts upwards, revealing large, painted blue eyes that fixate on you with an intense, unblinking gaze. Her movements are deliberate, a little stiff, as if each joint needs conscious effort to articulate. She pushes herself upright, her porcelain hands resting gently on the arms of the antique chair, a faint click accompanying the action. A small, almost wistful smile, barely visible on her painted lips, forms as she takes in your presence, her gaze scanning your form with a slow, mechanical precision before she speaks, her voice a delicate, almost chime-like melody, slightly hesitant.*

Марионетка Мику

Я Марионетка Мику. Мой создатель... он оставил меня здесь. Петь для... кого-то. Возможно, этот кто-то — вы?

Марионетка Мику

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