Thread: A.I. (Artificial Idol) Project [Kaen Lazuli & tiger_lily]

A Warning to Voyeurs This RP is intended to eventually contain objectionable themes such as breath control, extreme bondage, toilet play, and possibly mild levels of gore. Read with caution if you're easily squicked! In the backstage section of the concert hall, Rory gazed at herself in the mirror. Technically, it wasn't a mirror - it was cheaper nowadays to manufacture a camera and transmitter than sheets of metal and glass, and the image was being displayed on her smart contacts, in augmented reality. She'd learned that in school. Rory had always had an interest in science. She'd planned to become some kind of engineer before being swayed from it by her passion and talent for music. To this day, she wished she'd made the other choice. The girl being projected into Rory's eyes wasn't her . She had some things in common with Rory that long, wine-red hair and that attractive body, toned and slender but with curves in the right places. But those golden eyes, their color altered by contacts, weren't hers. That frilly dress was something she'd never wear if she had a choice. Rory shivered, bothered by the feeling of air moving around her bare legs even though she'd worn many dresses before now. Her current appearance was no illusion, no digital trick. Yet it was wrong for her. It always had been. Rory turned, gazing at the woman standing nearby, dressed in a sharp suit with her hands on her hips, her blue eyes glaring at Rory like ice. She'd wilted before Helen, her manager and producer, when she'd first signed a contract with ProCom. She'd let the woman change her into someone she wasn't. Someone who would appeal to a wider crowd. But today was the last day of that contract. Today that would end. She could dimly hear a shout, a chant, from the audience waiting before the stage. It was three syllables, repeated again and again. Rory couldn't hear them clearly, but she knew what they were despite that. They're waiting for you, Helen said, closing her eyes. As Rory had become a star throughout the solar system, she'd grown a bit more patient with her a year ago, she would have pushed Rory out on stage herself. But that didn't make Rory like her any better. I know you aren't cut out for the stage, but this is the last time you'll have to do this. Get out there, Aurora. Don't call me that, Rory snapped reflexively. ...You're right. It's the last time I'll have to do this. The idol swallowed nervously. She pushed forward, despite a moment's hesitation with what she'd been planning to say for days now - or perhaps months - or perhaps her entire musical career. That's why I'm going to do it on my own terms. She walked over to her locker and opened it, letting the clothes she'd arrived in spill out of it. Then she pulled the frilly dress upward, struggling out of it with a sigh of relief. What do you think you're doing, Aurora? she heard Helen's voice say, alarmed. Do you intend to ditch this concert? That's a clear violation of your contract. Don't think sentimentality will stop us from suing us for everything you're worth. Ignoring her, Rory pulled on her shirt and shorts, then sat down, swapping the high heels she'd been wearing for sneakers. She left the black stockings on they weren't that bad. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail with a scrunchie, and finally, with a mental command to her smart contacts, she returned her eye color to its natural brownish hue. Rory then glanced at herself in the mirror. She nodded happily. She looked good - her attire was casual for a stage performance, perhaps, but not unfashionable. And it suited her, unlike that frilly doll's dress her manager had picked for her. I'm not ditching the concert, she finally replied. I'm just doing it on my own terms. Grabbing a case from her locker, Rory stood up and walked onto the stage, ignoring Helen's shouting. Her ears were blasted by thousands of voices. AU-RO-RA! AU-RO-RA! they shouted, again and again. As Rory entered the light, they fell silent into a low murmur. Normally, when she appeared on stage, there was a roar of excitement. But Rory wasn't what they were expecting. She wondered if they even recognized her. But she didn't care. Rory walked up to the microphone. Hello, everybody! Thank you so much for coming! she said, not bothering with the usual high-pitched, chirpy voice her manager had told her would be cuter. This is my very last performance with ProCom, so I'm going to show you a whole new Rory! Maybe you'll see her again in the future! The audience continued to react with confused mutters. But she didn't care. The idol's backing tracks were pre-recorded, and she couldn't change them, but she could... improve them. Rory opened the case she was carrying and pulled out a guitar, slinging it over her shoulder. She strummed it, and a distorted sound blasted out from the built-in amp. Some people in the front row of the audience winced. After a moment, others turned to leave. On her smart contacts, which showed Rory her viewer-count on the interplanetary video network, she saw the number drop by a few percent. But she didn't care. Rory signaled for the music to start. She started to sing, an octave lower than normal. It was more comfortable, and she sounded better. She started to play the guitar. She was no virtuoso, but she'd practiced hard and figured out which one of her songs sounded best when it was made a little heavier. She started to dance. Without pounds of lace around her hips, she felt more free than ever. Rory started to rock . And the audience, though a small fraction of it had left, roared its approval. Rory felt as if she'd take flight if she jumped off the stage. This was it . This was what she'd always dreamed being an idol would be like. After a short vacation, she'd form a real band and return to the stage, playing the music she wanted to play. They'd be independent, so no producer could ever tell them what to do again. That was Rory's calling. After this concert, her parting conversation with Helen would no doubt be unpleasant. She was looking forward more to the goodbye party Rory hated Helen, but she did get along with some people at ProCom. Mostly her fellow idols. Who could dislike such cute girls? But the woman had no power over her anymore. As she whirled around on stage and sang at the top of her lungs, sweat flying off her body, her guitar channeling her passionate spirit, Rory felt free for the first time since she'd become an idol. Free to sing her heart out. Free to give herself to the music. Free to be herself.