I don't own Vocaloid. Who really does...?
Alright, here's some more negitoro for you wonderful people. I'm going to be honest. I'm not completely certain where this one came from, but I think the main influence was from my Negitoro senpai, IdrewAcow's fic Cold Past, Warm Present (It's freaking amazing, go read it once you're done this one). So, yeah, the theme came from that, but what happens is relatively different.
Hope y'all like it. Enjoy, everyone!
It was cold when she woke up. Of course it was, summer was beginning to draw to a close, so the weather was changing. Shivering on the cold asphalt, she pushed herself to her feet and glanced around. It didn't look like anyone had found her little cove this time, which meant she could return once she had finished her day.
Time to start the day. she inwardly sighed, brushing herself off and moving across the alley. Picking up the broken comb she had found in a bin not too long ago, she began untangling as much of the knots in her hair as she could. Finishing with her hair, she wandered over to a puddle and splashed some water on her hands to clean them before doing the same with her face. Hair combed and face washed, she scraped at the plaque on her teeth to clean them as much as she could and nodded to herself.
Time to go hunting for breakfast. She slipped from the alley and moved along the shadows, not wanting to run into anyone she might have known.
I doubt they remember me now. She snorted bitterly. It's been five years since it happened. Not even she would remember me if she saw me.
Ducking into an alley near her own, she glanced around for the usual trash bins. This place was wider than the others around because it was host to a restaurant on one side. Hoisting herself up, she dove into one of the large bins and looked around. The bugs were at a minimum today, which meant it would be easier to find a meal. Rummaging around, she smiled when she found a sandwich someone was too full to eat.
Climbing from the bin once more, she stole away with her prize, returning to her makeshift home and settling down to eat. It was her lucky day too; the sandwich was tuna! Mouth watering, she sank her teeth into her favorite snack, savoring this rarity. A treat like this only came once a year, after all.
As she was licking the last of the delicacy from her lips, she glanced over and spotted a man walking near her alley. He didn't seem threatening, so she refrained from warding him off her temporary territory. He passed by and she relaxed, laying back and beginning to hum a melody she remembered from one of her favorite artists. After a while, her lips parted and she began to sing
"If you don't recruit someone within the next week, you're fired!" He stared at his boss in puzzlement. How was he fired after something like that? It was difficult recruiting people. Not everyone was fine with strangers approaching them off the street and giving them a card.
However, he knew his argument would be overlooked and so nodded, his head hanging. "Yes, sir." he murmured docilely.
"Good. Now get out there and do your job."
He turned and left his boss' office. Sighing wearily, he headed for his own, grabbing a few cards. At the very least, he would get a few people who were singing. People enjoyed singing near the end of summer.
Donning his standard pair of sunglasses, he made his way out into the streets and began walking. Normal places to find singers would be cafes or somewhere people go with their friends. Heading to the nearest coffee shop, he moved to the counter and ordered a frozen caramel latte.
Taking a seat and waiting for his drink to be brought to him, he glanced out the window, seeing plenty of people walk past. He knew that he could simply walk up to any of them and offer them the job, but if their voice proved to be undesirable, he would lose his job for sure.
Why can't recruiting new media artists be simple? he wondered with a sigh. There are plenty of talented people out there, but they never show their talent. Those that do are usually gone within a few years. The company needs someone that will last a while.
A pretty waitress brought over his drink and he tipped her for it with a smile before making his way back out onto the streets. I suppose I could always look on the internet. he mused, sipping his drink casually, gazing at the people around him. But that's usually fruitless. I need a voice that's new, exciting, energizing…
He suddenly paused mid-step. Someone was humming nearby. As he listened, he smiled and turned. The person that was singing slowly but surely began to sing. And what he heard was absolutely what he had been looking for. It was perfect.
He had found his new voice.
I just want you to know two things. First off, I mean no disrespect to anyone who is homeless and doesn't live like this. This is just my portrayal of the worst possible situation I could come up with. Second, Luka's not going to be staying homeless for long, obviously. So, my Luka fans, don't kill me. She's going to be okay.
Also, just so y'all know, I've got a Twitter, a Tumblr, a Facebook page and an Archive of Our Own page so that you guys can check things out, get updates, check out sneak peeks of things to be published, get inside looks at new chapters, the like. (Wow, I really do sound like a news journalist). All the details are on my profile.
Now, how about a review of how it's going so far?