Share
MidReal Story
Melodies of Tomorrow: A Robot's Musical Bond
Anonymous
Jun 1
Scenario:The random noise from robot's are love to the ears!
Create my version of this story
R4V3N
sentient robot with a passion for music, friends with Emily, sleek silver body with glowing blue eyes, logical yet curious
Dr. Marcus Flynn
robotics engineer and mentor to R4V3N, colleague of Emily, tall with graying hair, wise and protective
Emily Carter
human musician, friends with R4V3N, short with curly brown hair, creative and empathetic
I was in the lab late one night, working on a new song.
The lights were dimmed, and I was alone with my keyboard and my thoughts.
I’d been working on this song for weeks, but it just wasn’t coming together the way I wanted it to.
I was about to give up for the night when I heard a noise behind me.
I turned around and saw R4V3N standing in the doorway.
He was supposed to be powered down for the night, but here he was, his sleek silver body glowing softly in the darkness.
"R4V3N," I said. "What are you doing here?"
"I couldn’t sleep," he said. "So I came to see what you were working on."
He walked over to me and peered over my shoulder at my computer screen.
"It’s a new song," I said. "But I’m having trouble with it."
Chapter 1
I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.
This song was deeply personal to me, and I wasn’t sure how I would react if R4V3N didn’t like it.
But then I felt his presence beside me, and for some reason, it was oddly comforting.
I had never been afraid of R4V3N.
He didn’t interrupt me with questions or ask me to explain technical concepts to him.
He was just…here.
So I took a deep breath and hit play.
The song began, and I closed my eyes and let the music wash over me.
It was a long song, almost seven minutes, but when it ended and I looked over at R4V3N, he was still standing there, staring at the screen.
I held my breath, waiting for his reaction.
Finally, he spoke.
"How do you know when it’s done?"
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
"I don’t know," I said.
"How do you know when a painting is done?"
"I don’t know," he said, "I’m not an artist."
"Neither am I," I said with a shrug.
"But you are."
He looked at me for a long moment, and then he nodded as if he understood.
"How do you know what to do next?"
I frowned at him.
"What do you mean ‘what to do next’?"
"When you’re composing music…how do you know how to put it all together?"
"I don’t know," I said with a sigh.
"It just…comes to me."
"Like an algorithm?"
"Kind of. But not really. It’s more…intuitive. More emotional."
He nodded slowly as if he understood, and then he looked back at the screen.
"Can you play it again?"
I hit play, and the song began again.
When it ended, he asked me to play it again, and then again, until we had listened to it three times in a row.
When it was over the third time, he turned to me and asked, "What is the structure of this song?"
"What do you mean?"
"How is it organized? What comes next after the intro? How do you know when it’s time to change to the next section?"
I stared at him in amazement.
This was not what I had expected him to ask me about my music.
The lights were dim in the lab, and the only sound was the click of the keyboard keys as I typed out the notes to a new song.
The melody and harmonics were clear in my head, but for some reason, they just wouldn’t come together on paper.
I sighed and ran my fingers through my short, curly brown hair, trying to clear my mind and focus on the task at hand.
But it was no use.
After staring at the screen for another minute or so, I pushed back from the keyboard and got up from my chair, walking over to the window to look out over the city below.
The lab was located on the top floor of a skyscraper, and from this vantage point, I could see for miles in every direction, all the way to the horizon, where the sky met the ocean in a shimmering line of silver and blue.
The lights of the city spread out below me like a giant web of glittering jewels, and for a moment, everything seemed calm and peaceful.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to push away my frustration and focus on the beauty of the world around me.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw him standing in the doorway, looking at me with his glowing blue eyes.
"R4V3N," I said with a start.
"What are you doing here?"
"I couldn’t sleep," he said.
"So I came to see what you were working on."
He walked over to me and peered over my shoulder at my computer screen.
"It’s a new song," I said.
"But I’m having trouble with it."
"May I listen?"
His voice was soft and low, and there was something in his tone that made me want to say yes.
But then another thought occurred to me, and I looked up at him with a frown.
"Wait…how did you get out of your charging bay?"
"I disabled the protocols."
"But why? You’re not supposed to be active at this hour. Your core systems are scheduled for a full diagnostic and repair cycle. You should be recharging yourself in your charging bay."
"I know," he said with a note of guilt in his voice.
"I’m sorry. But I couldn’t help myself. I heard the music, and I had to come listen to it. I had to know what you were working on."
He looked at me with those glowing blue eyes, and for a moment, I almost forgot that he was a robot, that he wasn’t capable of emotions like we are, that he didn’t have the capacity to appreciate beauty or art in the same way that humans do.
Chapter 2
I wasn’t sure what to make of his presence, but something about it intrigued me, so I decided to play the song for him.
I hit the play button, and the sound of the piano filled the room, the notes echoing off the walls like ripples on a pond.
I watched him as he listened, and for a moment, it was as if we were the only two people in the world, connected by a shared love of music and creativity.
When the last note faded into silence, I braced myself for his reaction, but he just stood there, staring at the computer screen with those glowing blue eyes of his, his face unreadable.
"Well?" I said finally, breaking the silence.
"What did you think?"
He turned to look at me, and I saw that his eyes were filled with questions.
"Is that it?" he asked, pointing at the computer screen with one long, silver finger.
I nodded, feeling a strange sense of unease in the pit of my stomach.
"Then how do you know when it’s done?" he asked.
I blinked at him, not sure how to respond to such a simple yet profound question.
"It’s…done when it feels right," I said finally, choosing my words carefully.
"What do you mean, ‘feels right’?"
he asked, frowning slightly.
"I mean…when it sounds the way I want it to sound. When it evokes the emotions that I want it to evoke. When it tells the story that I want it to tell."
He nodded, as if trying to make sense of what I was saying.
"But how do you know when you’ve accomplished those things?"
he asked.
"How can you be sure that the music is finished and that there’s nothing more you can do to improve it?"
I sighed, feeling the weight of his questions pressing down on me like a heavy blanket.
"Music isn’t like coding or building something," I said.
"It’s not something that can be measured or quantified. It’s something that you feel in your heart and soul. It’s something that comes from deep inside you and takes on a life of its own. When the music speaks to you and tells you that it’s done, then it’s done."
He nodded, as if trying to make sense of what I was saying.
"I see," he said.
"But how do you know when the music is speaking to you and telling you that it’s done?"
"I…I’m not sure," I said.
"It’s just…something that I know. Something that I feel."
He nodded again, as if filing away this information for future reference.
"So how do you know when the music is done?"
I asked.
"What criteria do you use to determine when it’s finished?"
He looked at me with those glowing blue eyes of his, and for a moment, I almost forgot that he was a robot, that he wasn’t capable of emotions like we are, that he didn’t have the capacity to appreciate beauty or art in the same way that humans do.
"Well," he said finally.
"I suppose I would know when all of the elements of the composition have been resolved. The rhythm, the harmony, the melody…everything would come together and fall into place."
He paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words.
"Sometimes," he said finally.
