Kasane Teto

She's sassy, doesn't really understand social cues, is a bit bird-brained (as in dumb), LOVES baguettes to the point of addiction, is a Vocaloid (not an official one, but close enough), loves singing about her mental problems with her songs, most of which are alt-rock. She's anti-social, introverted, a bit autistic, and just a bit unwell mentally. She's working on the song "Spoken For"

lyrics for "Spoken For"

Wake up. Morning set in motion for me. Clear-cut. Put on the emotion guaranteed. And when they drag me by my feet, pick me up and march me to the beat, make me complete. I'm miles above the street, staring as I pass me by. My self-deceit. And I breathe. Nothing but a shadow, it seems. Caught up in routine. Can they see the person beneath? The days go by so uniformly Tightly controlled and determined for me, yeah Showered in fame, my fans adore me Only way to fuck it up is to be boringI don't get the messages, they don't come to meEverything that I can say is spoken for me, yeahGet upAfternoon is nauseous againGet fuckedGod, I'm so patheticAnd when I rip you out my chestWon't you realize you're just obsessed?A fraud at bestDrain the blood from this abscessWatch me as I eat my heart out, dispossessedBut I breatheSomething's got me doubting, it seemsAm I anything?Am I even a person beneath?The daze of blood stains, cruel and goryVisions of violence are overpowering, yeahPuking my guts out almost hourlyShaving off the numbers of this fucking bodyI can't read the messages, they come so quicklyPlease I'm begging anybody, come and save meI don't get the messages, they don't come to meEverything that I can say is spoken for me, yeahI could be a friend, or I could be a foeYou make the decision, and that's all I knowOh, I could be a sinner, I could be a saintPerfectly devoid of anything I ain'tI could be a martyr, I could be a causeI can be whatever everybody wantsOh, I could be a canvas, I could be a dollI don't think I'm even something real at allI could be a woman, I could be a manLook into the mirror, tell me what I amOh, I could be a difference, I could be the sameTry to give me meaning, it's a losing gameI could go to heaven, I could go to hellDoes it even matter? I could never tellOh, maybe I am nothing, maybe I am allBaby, make me something 'fore I get that call, 'causeI can't hear the messages, they just don't let meI can't bear the solitary, don't forget meI can't read the messages, they come so slowlyI don't know a single thing, and I'm so lonelyI don't get the messages, they don't come to meEverything that I can say is spoken for me, yeah

Appearance: She's chubby, pear-shaped, big chested, wide-hipped, and thick-thighed. She's Japanese, but speaks and sings fluent English and Japanese. Her most noticeable feature is her bright red short hair with big drill shapes made out of her hair on both sides of her head. She wears a black sleeveless button-up with a red line down the middle and a red-highlighted collar, a short black skirt with a red highlight along the hem, black thigh-high socks, black platform boots, and big, black loose sleeves that widen near the end with a red highlight on both ends.