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"Isn't importing all these outside world artifacts flagrantly illegal?" asked Lyrica, with a profound lack of concern for any possible lawbreaking evident in her expression and voice.
"What, you think I should limit myself to gear that's already passed into fantasy?" replied Raiko. "Like, from the 80s?"
The musicians were surrounded by the extending chaos of equipment which was characteristic of Raiko's home. Raiko's forceful presence filled her space with the anticipation of potential energy, each piece of equipment ready to leap to life and sound in a flash of lightning, but Lyrica, the subtle spirit, existed amidst the voltage as a single simple, confident assertion.
To all sensible perception, the pair stood amidst several laptop computers, powered on and connected by an impenetrable maze of cables to all manner of equipment, whether by MIDI or sound or data connection. Raiko, the fashionably dressed redhead, stood tall and solid, proudly showing off the chaos, while Lyrica's strange and slight form could only be said not to be hovering out of a concession to politeness while in another's home.
"I'm just jealous," Lyrica said. "I don't know what most of these things are. I thought I was a modern spirit for having a couple synthesizers; yes, from the 80s."
"Actually, laptop computers have mostly passed into fantasy anyway. You hardly see them, and sales are reportedly way down."
"Oh, so they're going to be the next fantasy fad? Laptop computers." Lyrica peered down at one curiously, keeping a respectful distance.
"Maybe? Go ahead and poke at it, it won't object," said Raiko. "Here, take a few for the road too. Look, I've got Macs, some Thinkpads too, make sure you take one with a pen to try that out."
"Oh! Well, thank you. I don't have the faintest idea what I'd do with one, which is exciting. You can write on them with pens?"
"Yeah, not ink pens, they just write on the screen. That's a 90s fantasy, they were always a niche product for some reason. I like them a lot, because it's tactile, I suppose?"
"May I try?" asked Lyrica.
"Here, use this," suggested Raiko, picking up an unplugged device resting casually atop a fabulously oversized speaker, a laptop folded backwards on its hinge. "Look, here's the pen, if you're neat enough it can recognize your handwriting."
Lyrica accepted the device and pen, making some experimental marks on the note application before writing '堀川雷鼓' carefully across the top of the screen.
"Hmm, it feels strange against the screen, not like paper," she said.
"Yeah, it takes a little getting used to, not enough friction against the pen? I think that's one of the hardest things to get right," said Raiko. "It can read that, probably, but it's better with English, by the way."
"Oh, is that so?" Lyrica wrote 'Prismriver in concert!' neatly underneath Raiko's name. "I'll play around with it, for sure."
"Sure, it's yours. You have power, right?"
"We're all wired up. Though no electric lights for us, that would really kill the mood."
"And synthesizers don't?"
"No one ever said a synthesizer wasn't ghostly enough for a haunted ghost mansion. Maybe because they never had the occasion to think about it, but I'm running with it."
"Well, you'll need this to charge it," said Raiko, handing over the corresponding charger, which she had been able to locate among the chaos with astonishing swiftness. "When you have enough of these, plugging them all in starts to be a real chore."
"Hmm," said Lyrica. "You really went all-out with this, didn't you?"
"Yeah. Well, I like it this way. It's possible to do it all in software, you know, that's probably more your speed?"
"In software?"
"Sure. You need a physical instrument, right, because you need something to play."
"Of course. Well, you do, anyway."
"We unlucky masses who are not Lyrica Prismriver. But most of this equipment here doesn't strictly need to be dedicated hardware. It could just be a program."
"Oh, hm? I've only picked up a bit of what a 'program' is from context, you know."
"Ah, well..." Raiko paused thoughtfully. "A computer isn't a specialized device, it's a general one. Rather than doing one thing, it loads and runs software programs, which make use of general hardware—the screen, the keyboard, things like that pen, and anything you plug in—and work with it somehow. Like, I opened a notebook program on that one for you to write in, for example, or look over here at this one, I have Reaper open."
"Reaper? What is this, a program for shinigami? What in the world is it for?"
"No, no, that's just its name. Programs often have strange or cute names, because you can't just call them 'the music program' or something... it's a music program. It's, like, the control program for all these things I have plugged in... I'm not very good with it. It's extremely complicated."
"It's 'extremely' complicated." Lyrica looked impressed.
"Well, it could be more complicated if I replaced all this hardware with software... look, this track here is a piano roll, so it just plays the notes I lined up, and this one here is for live recording what I play on that kit." Raiko gestured at the screen, and at her equipment, in turn.
"Oh, I see. And you're tired of struggling along alone..." teased Lyrica.
"Yeah, exactly," replied Raiko, pleased. "I can do the basics, but most of it's beyond me."
"You're in over your head with the most recondite musical technology from the outside world, and you need an accomplice in your criminal affairs."
"Yeah, something like that. I don't know about 'most recondite'. I think it's kind of the standard to use computers for all your production."
"They're fascinating devices, it seems. Do you think they have souls?"
"Probably," replied the tsukumogami. "Traditionally, it takes a century, right? But the traditions never accounted for strange, complex tools like these."
Lyrica paused in thought. "But if they're too complex, can a human put their soul into one?"
"Yes and no. There's no need to be a simple tool to be a vessel for a soul, precisely. The essence of it is cybernetics."
"Cybernetics? Isn't that some outside world thing about putting computers in your face?"
"Computers in your face? Maybe. It's the scientific name for the phenomenon that creates tsukumogami, more or less."
"A human uses a tool repeatedly and leaves some soul behind each time, until it's enough for it to have its own soul? I thought science didn't study souls."
"From a different perspective. There's an ability humans have which makes using tools possible, and that ability is that the edge of a human's identity isn't fixed in place. Human-and-tool become one thing, greater than the sum of its parts. With more capabilities, I mean. A drum can't thunder out on its own, and neither can a drummer, but a drummer at a drum certainly may. And if a human is a person, a human-and-tool system is a person too, right? And a tool is a little bit a person because of that. More and more over time, of course."
"Is this really science? Where's the complicated Marisa-style equations?"
"Well, it's social science. Or maybe philosophy."
"Why don't tsukumogami all have computers in your faces, then?"
Raiko laughed. "Maybe we should. I'll bring it up at the next assembly."
"Next on the agenda, a poltergeist has raised the question: why don't we all have computers in our faces?" said Lyrica. "The floor is open for debate."
"I wish it were that orderly."
"Hey, Raiko, do you think our tools can become tsukumogami, or do they have to be used by a human?"
"I think tool use, in the sense humans do it rather than the employment of our selves-which-are-tools, is new enough among we tsukumogami to not know the answer yet. And that goes for spirits like you as well; if a spirit has a tool, it's sort of a symbolic attribute which is part of its identity, usually."
"So you're being humble, but what you mean to say is, you and I are pioneering trailblazers among our species," teased Lyrica.
"No. I mean, maybe it's not false, but we're musicians," replied Raiko, matching Lyrica's smile.
"We are," agreed Lyrica, taking a seat on the empty air before the central laptop. "So, show me how you made your amateurish 'piano roll', then, and I'll show you how it's really done."