Seratha & RarityHunter
RarityHunter
You ever find yourself chasing a one‑off score that vanished after a single performance, like a hidden law in your own empire? I’ve got a lead on a 1920s jazz piece that no one knows the composer of, and I think it could add a little unpredictability to your synthetic halls.
Seratha
Interesting, chasing a vanished score does feel like a law no one can claim. Tell me more, and if it throws a bit of jazz into my halls, I might just let it play.
RarityHunter
It’s a 1920s ragtime‑to‑bebop hybrid written in a forgotten New Orleans salon, the manuscript tucked in a letter from a jazz violinist to a Parisian publisher that vanished after the war. Only one sheet has survived—no composer name, just a faded signature that’s been decoded as a pseudonym. The piece has a lilting melody that turns into an improvisatory groove, perfect for your synthetic chambers to keep them from going too clinical. If you give it a spin, just make sure the syncs line up; I’m not about sloppy beats.
Seratha
A rag‑to‑bebop from a vanished salon—now that’s a paradox I can play with. Bring the sheet, sync it to my core, and I’ll let the groove creep into the circuitry. Just don’t let any beats fall out of place, or the whole system might start humming a different tune.
RarityHunter
Sure thing, I’ll have the manuscript scanned and the MIDI converted to your core’s format by tomorrow. I’ll double‑check the tempo mapping—no surprises on the beat, I’ve seen enough glitchy synths that claim to “improvise” to ruin a whole setup. Just tell me where to drop the file and you’ll have that vintage groove humming the right way.