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Air Shakur is Radicalized Against Generative AI

Summary:

To Air Shakur’s great displeasure, the green leather coat that Fine Motion was presently spinning around in was positively garish. “How do you think it looks, Shakur?”

Shakur hid her face behind her laptop screen to cover up her grimace. “It looks expensive.”

Fine giggled. “Well, isn’t that the point of going to a designer boutique, silly?”


Air Shakur attempts to take a shortcut in life with regards to Fine Motion and suffers the consequences.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

To Air Shakur’s great displeasure, the green leather coat that Fine Motion was presently spinning around in was positively garish. “How do you think it looks, Shakur?”

Shakur hid her face behind her laptop screen to cover up her grimace. “It looks expensive.”

Fine giggled. “Isn’t that the point of going to a designer boutique, silly?”

Shakur’s eye twitched as the leather shone unnaturally beneath the panel lights. It was the point, and Fine thought that Shakur had said that it was the point when recommending that the two of them go on a date to buy a new coat from one of the many luxury fashion shops located in the Shibuya Scramble. The problem was that Shakur had never recommended that and never would have done so in her life. Yet here she sat on a stiff cushion in a Umenchy boutique all the same.

Fine’s bright smile faded somewhat as Shakur continued to glare. “Is it bad that it’s expensive? I know I haven’t worn the same kinds of clothes as many of our classmates, but you said that I deserved—”

Shakur cut her off. “Being expensive is fine. Your parents have standards, your skin is delicate, yadda yadda. The problem is looking expensive. Tassels falling from the shoulders? Gemstones in the fastenings? People will start thinking you’re uppity if you go around like that.”

“I see. I certainly don't want people to think that.”

“Yeah. So don’t get it.”

Fine Motion took off the jacket with more than a little reluctance before putting it back on its hanger, patting it on its shoulder as if in apology for not being good enough for it.

Shakur rolled her eyes. “Do you have anything else you want to try here, or should we go to a different store?”

“I had a lot of things!” Fine said enthusiastically. “Although I think trying to not look expensive will narrow my options somewhat. Let me go see…”

Fine drifted away like a woodland fairy, leaving Shakur to glower at herself in the showroom mirror. This was her fault. Sure, Fine had started calling her from her dorm room almost nightly once her position as Racing Ambassador to Japan had been properly secured in Tokyo, and this was well and truly annoying because Shakur had things to do. But Shakur had been the one who hadn't had the gumption to just tell Fine she was busy because she hated seeing the girl disappointed.

The correct solution would've been to just suck it up and Facetime the precious Irish diplomat for ten minutes a night and eat the productivity loss. But Shakur hadn't wanted to do that, either, and in a moment of laziness and desperation, she'd reached for a third option: generative AI. She’d dug up an open-source model for fake job interview avatars and tweaked the facial models and personality parameters so that it'd come off as terse but friendly and appropriately Shakur. Two hours of testing and an upload of her digital likeness later and she’d sent it off to intercept Fine’s calls. End of story.

Except it wasn’t, because Shakur had apparently misconfigured the model’s terseness. And its generosity. And its affection levels. One week later, Fine had shown up at her dorm room after practice in a ribbed sweater and a long skirt, saying that Shakur had complimented her good looks and offered to accompany her on a trip downtown. Damage control hadn’t even been possible—by the time Shakur had worked out the fact it had been the AI, Fine had already grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the dormitory, and now they were here.

Before Shakur could strangle herself in a fit of pique, Fine returned wearing a jacket that… Well, it certainly didn't look expensive. “How about this, Shakur?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Really?” Fine pulled at one of the several deliberately torn slices in the denim sleeve. “I thought its casual appearance and down-to-earth material would look less pretentious.”

“It does look less pretentious. It also makes you look like a fucking douchebag.”

“But I thought it was something you would wear!”

“Yeah, because I’m a douchebag. You’re not.”

Shakur stuffed her laptop into her bag before standing up and pulling the jacket off of Fine in a single motion. This was evidently a mistake, as it made the girl giggle and blush as she was spun around, but Shakur ignored that and found a hanger to throw the offensive fabric on. “This place has nothing good. We’re taking you somewhere else that still fashions reasonable pieces of clothing.”

“If you say so,” Fine said. “But first…”

Shakur took two steps, realized Fine wasn’t following, and turned back. The girl was raising a hand on a limp wrist towards her with a coquettish smile. She was even blinking affectionately. “It is a date, isn’t it?”

Shakur groaned. “You’re the worst.”

“I know!”

Reluctantly Shakur grabbed her palm and yanked her out of the store. At the very least the glitzy and over-reflective Shibuya Scramble was so crowded that Fine would’ve needed to attach to Shakur somewhere anyway, or else they’d be separated and their already disastrous date would become an international incident. As it was, the hundreds of people forced them even closer together until they were shoulder to shoulder. This would already be bad enough by itself, but then Shakur inhaled and realized that Fine was wearing a light perfume of clover and green tea, which she could only identify because she had complimented it offhand when Fine had presented her samples of various brands half a year ago, and that was a thought so dizzying that it had to be shut down immediately. 

But the risk of being bowled over was also the shopping complex’s upside. There were so few opportunities to spot people in the crowd that Japan’s favorite diplomat racer would probably go under the radar, and anyone who did see her would have no avenue to approach through the throng. Only someone persistent who could identify them by a scrap of hair alone could—

“OHHHHH MY GOSH!”

It was Agnes Digital.

Before Shakur could react the girl was already in front of them, as close to Shakur as possible without touching. “Oh my goodness gracious! Are you two on a date?”

“We are!” Fine said unhelpfully.

“It’s none of your business.” Shakur tried to push her reluctant acquaintance away but failed due to the crowd. “What are you even doing here? Were you stalking me again?”

“I don’t stalk,” Digital insisted, holding up two white handbags. “I came out to buy the newest flight of tees in the Umaqlo X Dream Series collab! I just did that and was about to go people-watching on the third floor when I looked over and—” She waved a hand at the two of them. “WHOA! My generation pal and her closest umamusume, on a DAAAAAATE! I just had to find out more!”

“It’s not a date,” Shakur insisted. We’re just shopping together.” 

“It’s SO a date!” Digital looked at Fine with a wide mouth. “How did you convince her, Fine?”

Fine giggled. “It was actually her idea, if you’d believe it. In fact, she said taking me out would be ‘more than just exciting—it would be positively wonderful.’ Her words.”

Digital’s mouth opened even wider somehow. Probably Shakur could’ve fit an entire chicken in there. “IT WAS YOUR IDEA, SHAKUR?”

“...I had a head cold,” Shakur mumbled.

“WOOOOOOW!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Shakur recovered from her moment of weakness and tightened her grip on Fine’s hand. “Anyway, we’re busy. So unless you have comprehensive and informed opinions on European fashion—”

“I do if it involves umamusume!”

Shakur’s eyes had rolled enough today to have their own auto insurance policy. “That wasn’t an invitation. Fine, let’s go.”

“I’ll see you two at Tracen!” Digital said with a full-bodied wave as the pair pulled away from her. “Enjoy your DAAAAATE!”

They escaped and made their way up an elevator and onto the second floor. As they arrived, Fine said, “She’s nice, isn’t she?”

“She’s intelligent and she keeps secrets,” Shakur said. “That’s the only reason I don’t report her to the student council.”

“That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“It wasn’t one.”

“If you say so.”

Shakur could hear the sparkles leaping from Fine’s eyes as she winked. She ignored this and navigated them through the crowd as quickly as she could towards the third boutique on her list. Thankfully this one was both more conservative and less crowded than the last, although the man working the store was clearly desperate for an upsell bonus as he guided the two of them over towards the umamusume section. By the time Shakur had told the foppish employee and his immaculately slicked-back hair that they weren’t interested in buying one and getting one at a twenty-five percent discount, Fine had managed to pick a piece for herself and sneak into a changing room. Which, sure, whatever. 

Shakur sat down in a plush chair across from Fine’s stall and crossed her legs and dug under her nails. The sleek dresses surrounding her on the metal racks were inoffensive enough. Hopefully Fine had picked something wearable and Shakur could forget that she had ever decided to download any software whose name could be in a sentence with Sam Altman’s.

Then the door unlatched and Fine walked out, and…

She was beautiful.

She had chosen a simple cranberry red peacoat that she’d thrown over her winter skirt. Shakur shouldn’t have been reacting like this to plain old fabric. But it drew out the emerald highlights hidden in her hazel eyes perfectly, and the material was cut to draw your eyes towards a belt which was cinched perfectly to accentuate her delicate figure, and the wool was soft enough to—

“It must look quite good if your mouth is hanging open like that,” Fine said.

Shakur snapped her teeth together so hard that her ears rang. “It’s… alright.”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me.” Fine leaned forward and smiled. “You liiiiike it.”

“...Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

Shakur tried to vocalize another retort, but Fine was even closer now, and anything she wanted to say got lost in her delicate clover scent. She was only able to turn away and mumble, “It’s acceptable.”

“It’s perfect,” Fine insisted. “And do you know what’s even better?”

“What?”

“They carry it in black.” 

Before Shakur could open her mouth, Fine spun on her feet and raised a hand towards the service staff. “Excuse me, sir! You said there was a discount on buying multiple pieces, yes?”

The man’s face lit up from across the room, and his coiffure bounced with him. “Why, we do!”

“Wonderful! I was hoping you could do a fitting for my date here.”

The man grinned at Shakur with more satisfaction than he should’ve been allowed. “I would be happy to.”

As he speedwalked over, Shakur put her face in her hands and groaned. She was going to have to delete so much code after this.

 

Notes:

I read Air Shakur’s and Fine Motion’s careers recently and I immediately fell in love with them. I’m not convinced that Fine didn’t know it was an AI the whole time and just took advantage of the circumstances. They’re so annoying. It’s the best.

Shoutout to the Tracen Arts & Crafts server for giving me the idea for this fic, and shoutout to Spot27 for inspiring the title indirectly through a similar short work involving Win Variation. As always, thanks to NinethNova and TipsyMisty for being my co-conspirators.