Scratch

LiFaytheGoblin wrote:

too bad that I only write german stories >( I'd love to get them reviewed...

Perhaps you could translate into English, if they're not too long?    I could ignore grammar, since it would mostly likely be a translation error


OHMYGOSH
I'm so excited and, going against what I said in the OP, probably going to write more than usual today
I bought a journal yesterday and
AHAHAHAH YES MY TYPEWRITER GOT FIXED AND IT LOOKS ALL NEW AND SHINY XD YESSSS I LOVE YOU TYPEWRITER OKAY DONE SPAZZING NOW.

Wickimen wrote:

Hey, toasters can be useful though

Exceedingly!

Good reviews.
Nice how you managed to always be positive
I wouldn't

Wickimen wrote:

LiFaytheGoblin wrote:

too bad that I only write german stories >( I'd love to get them reviewed...

Perhaps you could translate into English, if they're not too long?    I could ignore grammar, since it would mostly likely be a translation error


OHMYGOSH
I'm so excited and, going against what I said in the OP, probably going to write more than usual today
I bought a journal yesterday and
AHAHAHAH YES MY TYPEWRITER GOT FIXED AND IT LOOKS ALL NEW AND SHINY XD YESSSS I LOVE YOU TYPEWRITER OKAY DONE SPAZZING NOW.

the first chapture has 3 pages

Last edited by LiFaytheGoblin (2012-04-05 04:15:47)

Wickimen wrote:

Chapter One

    I lie with the blanket over me, listening to the sounds of gunfire nearby.  Still, I think, gotta stay still.  They won't see me if I'm still. Intrigue =O
    Screams echo from somewhere close, but I feel little reaction.  Those who are unfit or unlucky died.  It's just the way of things. Ohthecoldness. It fits with the story well though. However, no one likes a _completely_ hardened main character. They'll get sick of/annoyed by/horrified by their lack of caring for anything
    My mother and little brothers were three of the unlucky ones. D:
    Eventually the sounds subside, but I don't move.  Not yet.  Not until Dad gives the word.
    It feels like an eternity until he finally does. "Scott, it's safe now.  You can come out." His voice is hoarse from dehydration, and I know mine must be little better.  Gingerly pushing aside the dirt-colored blanket, I try to stand.  Dad's scabbed, calloused hand reaches down and helps me up.
    Looking around, I see the dead bodies bleeding in the dust.  Most of them I don't feel sympathy for, but then my gaze sweeps over the body of a small boy.  I step over to him and - to my horror - feel a tear forming in my eye, but sweep it away quickly with a grimy hand. Forget what I said about "no one likes a completely hardened main character lol
    I had been younger than him when this whole apocalypse started. 
    When I look into his glazed blue eyes, I realize how similar to the older of my younger brothers, Jonathan, he looks.  Everything, from the dirty-blond hair to the freckles across his face, to the pale blue eyes, reminds me of little Jonny.
    "Hey!  You!  Get away from my boy!" I look up to see a woman running towards me.  Her brown hair hangs in filthy strands, clothes ripped and muddied, dirt streaking her skin.
    I back away quickly. ''I'm sorry!  I was just thinking how much he looks like my little brother, who died a year ago from sickness." Accurate, but it sounds too formal for dialogue, especially when caught off guard/feeling sad. Perhaps you could break it up a little, put in some hesitation, "I'm sorry. I...was just thinking how much he looks like my little brother. He...he died a year ago, from sickness." Here are some great articles about dialogue: 1 and 2    they're both great articles that helped me a lot
    "Tough luck," growls the woman as she carefully picks up the limp form of her son.  I see something glint in her soot-gray eyes, but she turns and hurries off into the trees.
    Dad takes hold of my wrist and leads me away from the battlefield.  "Scott, I know he looked like Jonny.  But I thought you knew to stay away from dead bodies - they might have sicknesses.  And especially stay away from kids.  Most likely there'll be some insane parents wanting anyone to vent their rage on."
    "You and Mom weren't crazy, even when Jonny and Browny died."
    "If you go and die on me that'll be the last straw.  I'm really close to snapping.  You think your mom and brothers dying was any easier for me?"
    I'm about to reply when I found Dad's hand covering my mouth. "Be quiet, Scott."
    From somewhere farther up the cobblestone path, harsh voices reach our ears.  Dad pulls me to the side of the path, diving behind several thick bushes.  I reach automatically for the old, dirty blanket tied around my waist like a rope.  Throwing it over us, I grab for the large rusty knife thrust into the back of the leather strap circling my chest and going over one shoulder.
    Dad stays my hand as a group of about ten people parade past.  They were raggedy and dirty, but well-armed.  "Too many to fight," Dad breathed.
    I gaze longingly at the backpacks slung over their shoulders.  Food.  I haven't tasted food in almost two days, and not a drop of water since last night.
    The survival section of my mind knows that I could kill the last person silently and steal the food.  I had done it before.  I could do it again. 
    But that same survival mind knows that I can't risk it.  They'd find me and kill me and then Dad would finally go insane, like he said he would.
    Trying to ignore the sharp pangs of hunger and the stings of my thirsting mouth, I watch the group tramp into the distance.

Great story    One thing you might want to add a little more of is imagery--setting the scene and stuff. Using metaphors and similes is also a great way to get across what something or someone looks like. Focus on the way everything looks, sounds, tastes, smells and feels. In contrast, don't go overboard either, or it will start to become boring--just throw in some more sensory imagery now and then 

Okay, thank you!  Yes, he's not completely hardened.  He's hardened to fit the way of things at that time, but he's not emotionless.

LiFaytheGoblin wrote:

PlutoIsHades wrote:

LiFaytheGoblin wrote:

too bad that I only write german stories >( I'd love to get them reviewed...

This might not really work, but you could right them in German than use a translator to post them in English.

I don't think it would work^^ Google translate doesn't translate Grammar or it translates words wrong, so ... 

You seem to be good at English, maybe you could try to translate them yourself.

Hey, I've been working on Yggdrasil a bit. Can you tell me if this is good?

Shimon Vinnik

Operation: Yggdrasil
Time: 2150
Location: 50 thousand feet above

    Ragnar crouched on the floor of the airplane, ready to jump at the slightest indication. The interior was drab, a sickly gray. There was a gun rack and a jump seat next to Ragnar, but otherwise, he was alone with only his trusty rifle to keep him company. Ragnar was cloaked in a dark bluish robe, the latest technology from Aperture Science, and wore night vision goggles. He was not unhandsome, with a rugged beard and eyes that spoke of experience that someone of Ragnar’s twenty years should not have had. Ragnar checked his Galil and Desert Eagle for any signs of possible jamming. The last time that Ragnar’s guns had jammed, he had almost died, if not for the sacrifice of Uthred. As Ragnar, finished with his checks, smoked a nervous cigarette, characterized by his quick huffs of the noxious smoke. He checked his watch. One minute till the jump. Ragnar put out the wretched death-stick and slipped on the parachute.
     “Thirty seconds until jump.” The intercom blared. The cargo door slowly opened and Ragnar walked to the edge, a mere slip away from the most frightening death possible, with torture at the hands of the late Kim Jong Il’s servants a close second. Ragnar prayed to his dead companion that he would survive this mission. If he should survive, most likely he would be given a few days vacation time. If not, that’s some valuable vacation time saved. Ragnar had no family to worry about him. Better that way, for what Ragnar was concerned.
“Jump.” Ragnar ran forward from his position on the cargo bay and jumped. Many people have tried to describe the thrill of jumping off of an airplane into the void but they often go insane from trying to focus on the small details, like how the air smelled or some other garbage. To save the storyteller the considerable burden of insanity, the jump is not described. Try using your imagination. As Ragnar fell, he prepared to pull the cord. Ragnar looked around him and suddenly realized that the human species shouldn’t be up here. When God found out about the humans conquering the sea, he passed it off as a fluke. A few thousand years later when airplanes were invented and flight was invented, history sadly ignoring the brave souls that jumped off cliffs flapping their arms and making self described “birdy noises”. God was shocked, so naturally, His curiosity if humans could make it to the moon before the twenty first century was piqued. Why he chose to divulge the secrets of rocketry to scientists that were following the world’s most evil goose-stepper, no one knows. One must assume it’s a joke, although a rather unfunny one considering the about fifty million people that died in World War Two. After the Moon landing in 1969, God challenged the human race to solve the Higgs Boson. Now, in 2012, we are almost done with that goal. The next logical step for God is to retire to a nursing home and dominate at shuffleboard, complaining about modern “rock” music all the while. And so goes modern religion.
    When Ragnar landed, he hid the parachute and retrieved his weapons. For his mission, he had needed a sniper rifle, an assault rifle, and a pistol. That was more than the average soldier needed, so Ragnar was issued a special backpack that could hold these weapons. The target was many miles away, and was leaving tonight to Hong Kong, where it would be almost impossible to track him down. It took at least a year to find out when Kim Jong Un’s next visit to another country was and it had required a fair amount of nighttime kidnappings and torture. The president looked the other way, for this target was too important to worry about ethical problems. Some reporters found out about the operation and threatened to expose it, but they all were taken care of in an unexpected mass shooting in the New York Times office. The shooter in the mission got the death sentence, but the Special Forces intervened. Countless missions had been undertaken to find Kim Jong Un and kill him to prevent his devious agenda. Ragnar was chosen for his marksmanship, the best in the Navy Seals. It was a great honor and he was determined to do the best he could.
With a grunt, Ragnar started walking. It was now 2200 and Ragnar needed to cover about 12 miles and arrive at 0100. Three hours, thought Ragnar, Child’s play. He drew his pistol and attached the silencer, just in case any animal saw fit to attack him.
    Hunter smiled as he saw the target land. He was hired by the North Korean government to kill the person planning to assassinate Kim Jong Un. Hunter aimed the sniper rifle at Ragnar and squeezed the trigger.

Andres-Vander wrote:

svinnik wrote:

Hey, I've been working on Yggdrasil a bit. Can you tell me if this is good?

Shimon Vinnik

Operation: Yggdrasil
Time: 2150
Location: 50 thousand feet above

    Ragnar crouched on the floor of the airplane, ready to jump at the slightest indication. The interior was drab, a sickly gray. There was a gun rack and a jump seat next to Ragnar, but otherwise, he was alone with only his trusty rifle to keep him company. Ragnar was cloaked in a dark bluish robe, the latest technology from Aperture Science, and wore night vision goggles. He was not unhandsome, with a rugged beard and eyes that spoke of experience that someone of Ragnar’s twenty years should not have had. Ragnar checked his Galil and Desert Eagle for any signs of possible jamming. The last time that Ragnar’s guns had jammed, he had almost died, if not for the sacrifice of Uthred. As Ragnar, finished with his checks, smoked a nervous cigarette, characterized by his quick huffs of the noxious smoke. He checked his watch. One minute till the jump. Ragnar put out the wretched death-stick and slipped on the parachute.
     “Thirty seconds until jump.” The intercom blared. The cargo door slowly opened and Ragnar walked to the edge, a mere slip away from the most frightening death possible, with torture at the hands of the late Kim Jong Il’s servants a close second. Ragnar prayed to his dead companion that he would survive this mission. If he should survive, most likely he would be given a few days vacation time. If not, that’s some valuable vacation time saved. Ragnar had no family to worry about him. Better that way, for what Ragnar was concerned.
“Jump.” Ragnar ran forward from his position on the cargo bay and jumped. Many people have tried to describe the thrill of jumping off of an airplane into the void but they often go insane from trying to focus on the small details, like how the air smelled or some other garbage. To save the storyteller the considerable burden of insanity, the jump is not described. Try using your imagination. As Ragnar fell, he prepared to pull the cord. Ragnar looked around him and suddenly realized that the human species shouldn’t be up here. When God found out about the humans conquering the sea, he passed it off as a fluke. A few thousand years later when airplanes were invented and flight was invented, history sadly ignoring the brave souls that jumped off cliffs flapping their arms and making self described “birdy noises”. God was shocked, so naturally, His curiosity if humans could make it to the moon before the twenty first century was piqued. Why he chose to divulge the secrets of rocketry to scientists that were following the world’s most evil goose-stepper, no one knows. One must assume it’s a joke, although a rather unfunny one considering the about fifty million people that died in World War Two. After the Moon landing in 1969, God challenged the human race to solve the Higgs Boson. Now, in 2012, we are almost done with that goal. The next logical step for God is to retire to a nursing home and dominate at shuffleboard, complaining about modern “rock” music all the while. And so goes modern religion.
    When Ragnar landed, he hid the parachute and retrieved his weapons. For his mission, he had needed a sniper rifle, an assault rifle, and a pistol. That was more than the average soldier needed, so Ragnar was issued a special backpack that could hold these weapons. The target was many miles away, and was leaving tonight to Hong Kong, where it would be almost impossible to track him down. It took at least a year to find out when Kim Jong Un’s next visit to another country was and it had required a fair amount of nighttime kidnappings and torture. The president looked the other way, for this target was too important to worry about ethical problems. Some reporters found out about the operation and threatened to expose it, but they all were taken care of in an unexpected mass shooting in the New York Times office. The shooter in the mission got the death sentence, but the Special Forces intervened. Countless missions had been undertaken to find Kim Jong Un and kill him to prevent his devious agenda. Ragnar was chosen for his marksmanship, the best in the Navy Seals. It was a great honor and he was determined to do the best he could.
With a grunt, Ragnar started walking. It was now 2200 and Ragnar needed to cover about 12 miles and arrive at 0100. Three hours, thought Ragnar, Child’s play. He drew his pistol and attached the silencer, just in case any animal saw fit to attack him.
    Hunter smiled as he saw the target land. He was hired by the North Korean government to kill the person planning to assassinate Kim Jong Un. Hunter aimed the sniper rifle at Ragnar and squeezed the trigger.

I don't know but it doesn't really interest me

Not supposed to yet. It's the beginning.

soupoftomato wrote:

svinnik wrote:

Andres-Vander wrote:

I don't know but it doesn't really interest me

Not supposed to yet. It's the beginning.

The beginning (and end) should be the most interesting, though everything being interesting is preferable.

The beginning should draw the reader in and make them care, and the end should be a finale that's all big and grand and when they put it down their like "OMG EPIX"

Of course, the middle should remain entertaining enough for the reader to not give up.

This is the very first draft, penned when I was half asleep.

soupoftomato wrote:

svinnik wrote:

soupoftomato wrote:

The beginning (and end) should be the most interesting, though everything being interesting is preferable.

The beginning should draw the reader in and make them care, and the end should be a finale that's all big and grand and when they put it down their like "OMG EPIX"

Of course, the middle should remain entertaining enough for the reader to not give up.

This is the very first draft, penned when I was half asleep.

Sleepiness makes you more creative/

Yes. For optimal purposes, it has to fulfill 3 things:

Sleepiness factor
How much caffeine I have
and if i listened to good music earlier.

bam dee dee ba
I apologize for how much this sucks it was more concept than actual story.

Year 24 of the Transactive Empire

    The human-esque figures you see down there, as you look from above, are not that far from being like you and me. If not for a few distinguishing characteristics, we're practically the same! The most obvious change would have to be the absence of a face on the people you're looking at, masking any thoughts, should they have any. But also different are the knobby hands, useless, that look like a kid's drawing where they had no regard for the shape or fingers contained on our appendage.
    But they are very different in other ways. That face they're lacking makes their personality disappear. The wisdom, curiosity, bravery, or whatever else you may find in someone's eyes is gone with them. No longer can they inflict their voice with that of sarcasm or fright. No longer can a smell be pleasant or unpleasant to a person. Despite all this, they do have a sense of their surroundings and . . .feelings.

---

    Look at that one down there. He's walking in that store; "FURNITURE SHOP" its sign reads. "How does he know? They have no eyes!" You say. This will impress you, because he does! It's a tiny camera hidden there, under his faceless flesh. Though they have no eyes, they can see.
    Now see as he talks to that man. See their faces light up? Not with joy or happiness, but with those words, scrolling past? Though they have no mouth, they can talk. It seems he would like a sofa.
    Those words on the seller explain what he has. He offers them up. See what the man will choose. I'm sure you'll agree with whatever he takes; the selection is amazing!
    Oh now look! The man we followed here is rubbing the desk with his hands. The electronic table's blue grid warps as his hand goes over and the man strokes gently, considering. Though they have no hands, they can feel.
    The man's face is buzzing with words again. He's chosen the third one; it was personally my favorite as well, how about you? His face is buzzing up again. "How much does it cost?" is scrolling across if you look closely enough.
    Now look at the shop-keepers face. "300TU". The currency. He wants three hundred transactive units. The buyers face is lighting up with words of agreement. After a split second, he's made his transaction. It's an amazingly efficient system and he doesn't have to carry anything on his way out!

---

    That man just bought a virtual sofa. Unlike our's it will last him forever, and he will always be content with it. All the machinery inside him will make sure he has the feeling to love it and feel relaxed when on it. The machinery inside him will allow him to see with a camera. The machinery inside him will allow him to talk with the screen. The machinery inside him will allow him to pay money with no movement. No personality needed, maximal efficiency! Human evolution at it's finest!

Last edited by soupoftomato (2012-04-19 18:44:17)

sonatina wrote:

soupoftomato wrote:

sonatina wrote:

Hey, Wicki!
Sorry for asking this of you, but I need to revise a piece of my writing as best as I can for an English assignment. I've already done as much as I can, but I want another person's opinion on it. I feel really bad for asking a friend to look over my persuasive essay, but hey, I'm desperate haha. Thank you so much, I'll be the happiest clam in the world!
And there are a lot of happy clams in the world.


[snip]

Lol.
In my class near the beginning of the year everyone was sneaking food and then my teacher goes, "I know you're eating food, but the funniest part is you are trying to hide it. As long as you can clean up after yourselves I don't care."

So now everyone brings snacks and whatnot to that period (and it's a double-period). And we can clean up after ourselves.

I say it should be the teacher's decision, after seeing how their class behaves.
[/terrible offtopic]

I'm writing a short story and I'll have Wicki review  it as an upload-to-Scratch excuse.

haha i agree with you but i had to pick a side and despite being guilty of eating in the classroom myself, being against this issue has more facts i can support myself with.

Ah.

But sometimes your actual opinion is easier because it's actually yours. But yeah, only sometimes.

But I'm like professional at milking the smallest amounts of information into lots.

Last edited by soupoftomato (2012-04-19 18:22:12)

svinnik wrote:

Hey, I've been working on Yggdrasil a bit. Can you tell me if this is good?

Shimon Vinnik

Operation: Yggdrasil
Time: 2150
Location: 50 thousand feet above

    Ragnar crouched on the floor of the airplane, ready to jump at the slightest indication. The interior was drab, a sickly gray. There was a gun rack and a jump seat next to Ragnar, but otherwise, he was alone with only his trusty rifle to keep him company. Ragnar was cloaked in a dark bluish robe, the latest technology from Aperture Science, and wore night vision goggles. He was not unhandsome, with a rugged beard and eyes that spoke of experience that someone of Ragnar’s twenty years should not have had. Ragnar checked his Galil and Desert Eagle for any signs of possible jamming. The last time that Ragnar’s guns had jammed, he had almost died, if not for the sacrifice of Uthred. As Ragnar, finished with his checks, smoked a nervous cigarette, characterized by his quick huffs of the noxious smoke. He checked his watch. One minute till the jump. Ragnar put out the wretched death-stick and slipped on the parachute.
     “Thirty seconds until jump.” The intercom blared. The cargo door slowly opened and Ragnar walked to the edge, a mere slip away from the most frightening death possible, with torture at the hands of the late Kim Jong Il’s servants a close second. Ragnar prayed to his dead companion that he would survive this mission. If he should survive, most likely he would be given a few days vacation time. If not, that’s some valuable vacation time saved. Ragnar had no family to worry about him. Better that way, for what Ragnar was concerned.
“Jump.” Ragnar ran forward from his position on the cargo bay and jumped. Many people have tried to describe the thrill of jumping off of an airplane into the void but they often go insane from trying to focus on the small details, like how the air smelled or some other garbage. To save the storyteller the considerable burden of insanity, the jump is not described. Try using your imagination. As Ragnar fell, he prepared to pull the cord. Ragnar looked around him and suddenly realized that the human species shouldn’t be up here. When God found out about the humans conquering the sea, he passed it off as a fluke. A few thousand years later when airplanes were invented and flight was invented, history sadly ignoring the brave souls that jumped off cliffs flapping their arms and making self described “birdy noises”. God was shocked, so naturally, His curiosity if humans could make it to the moon before the twenty first century was piqued. Why he chose to divulge the secrets of rocketry to scientists that were following the world’s most evil goose-stepper, no one knows. One must assume it’s a joke, although a rather unfunny one considering the about fifty million people that died in World War Two. After the Moon landing in 1969, God challenged the human race to solve the Higgs Boson. Now, in 2012, we are almost done with that goal. The next logical step for God is to retire to a nursing home and dominate at shuffleboard, complaining about modern “rock” music all the while. And so goes modern religion.
    When Ragnar landed, he hid the parachute and retrieved his weapons. For his mission, he had needed a sniper rifle, an assault rifle, and a pistol. That was more than the average soldier needed, so Ragnar was issued a special backpack that could hold these weapons. The target was many miles away, and was leaving tonight to Hong Kong, where it would be almost impossible to track him down. It took at least a year to find out when Kim Jong Un’s next visit to another country was and it had required a fair amount of nighttime kidnappings and torture. The president looked the other way, for this target was too important to worry about ethical problems. Some reporters found out about the operation and threatened to expose it, but they all were taken care of in an unexpected mass shooting in the New York Times office. The shooter in the mission got the death sentence, but the Special Forces intervened. Countless missions had been undertaken to find Kim Jong Un and kill him to prevent his devious agenda. Ragnar was chosen for his marksmanship, the best in the Navy Seals. It was a great honor and he was determined to do the best he could.
With a grunt, Ragnar started walking. It was now 2200 and Ragnar needed to cover about 12 miles and arrive at 0100. Three hours, thought Ragnar, Child’s play. He drew his pistol and attached the silencer, just in case any animal saw fit to attack him.
    Hunter smiled as he saw the target land. He was hired by the North Korean government to kill the person planning to assassinate Kim Jong Un. Hunter aimed the sniper rifle at Ragnar and squeezed the trigger.

Uh, I already edited most of this I thought
Alright, here's what I think.
I can see that this really could develop into an interesting story, but you need to make the beginning a little more captivating and not pour all this information on us at once. You should keep it a bit vague at first, you know?--not tell us everything. Like, "He was hired by the North Korean government to kill the person planning to assassinate Kim Jong Un." Don't tell us! Let us find out later!
What would help would be if you stayed by "show, don't tell."
For instance: "He was not unhandsome, with a rugged beard and eyes that spoke of experience that somebody of Ragnar's twenty years should not have had."
Don't tell us he's not unhandsome. Describe what he looks like and let us form that opinion ourselves.
It could really make it a lot more exciting 

Last edited by Wickimen (2012-04-19 19:12:46)

Wickimen wrote:

soupoftomato wrote:

bam dee dee ba
I apologize for how much this sucks it was more concept than actual story.

Year 24 of the Transactive Empire

    The human-esque figures you see down there, as you look from above, are not that far from being like you and me. If not for a few distinguishing characteristics, we're practically the same! The most obvious change would have to be the absence of a face on the people you're looking at, masking any thoughts, should they have any. Creepy and a good sentence. But also different are the knobby hands, useless, that look like a kid's drawing where they had no regard for the shape or fingers contained on our appendage. Good imagery, but a bit awkwardly worded. You might want to do some rephrasing.
    Yet they are very different in other ways. That face they're lacking makes their personality disappear. The wisdom, curiosity, bravery, or whatever else you may find in someone's eyes is gone with them. No longer can they inflict their voice with that of sarcasm or fright. No longer can a smell be pleasant or unpleasant to a person. Despite all this, they do have a sense of their surroundings and . . .feelings. Great paragraph :D

---

    Look at that one down there. He's walking in that store--"FURNITURE SHOP", its sign reads. "How does he know? They have no eyes!" you say. This will impress you, because he does! Lol I have no idea why but that sentence struck me as hilarious XDDD It's a tiny camera hidden there, under his faceless flesh. Though they have no eyes, they can see. Haha, this is great. I don't know why but I just started laughing. Anyway.
    Now see as he talks to that man. See their faces light up? Not with joy or happiness, but with those words, scrolling past? Though they have no mouth, they can talk. It seems he would like a sofa. Hmm. Interesting concept. I like the way you say they have no eyes and mouth, yet can see and talk. A metaphor?
    Those words on the seller explain what he has. He offers them up. See what the man will choose. I'm sure you'll agree with whatever he takes; the selection is amazing! I get the feeling this is supposed to be funny, because I keep thinking it is. Uh is it supposed to be? In a sardonic kind of way? It cracks me up
    Oh now look! The man we followed here is rubbing the desk with his hands. The electronic table's blue grid warps as his hand goes over and the man strokes gently, considering. Though they have no hands, they can feel. I'm confused. You just said they had hands. Now they don't?
    The man's face is buzzing with words again. He's chosen the third one; it was personally my favorite as well, how about you? haha His face is buzzing up again. "How much does it cost?" is scrolling across, if you look closely enough.
    Now look at the shop-keepers face. "300TU." The currency. He wants three hundred transactive units. The buyer's face is lighting up with words of agreement. After a split second, he's made his transaction. It's an amazingly efficient system and he doesn't have to carry anything on his way out!

---

    That man just bought a virtual sofa. Unlike ours it will last him forever, and he will always be content with it. All the machinery inside him will make sure he has the feeling to love it and feel relaxed when on it. The machinery inside him will allow him to see with a camera. The machinery inside him will allow him to talk with the screen. The machinery inside him will allow him to pay money with no movement. No personality needed, maximal efficiency! Human evolution at its finest! Now it's creepy rather than funny. I suspect you intended this. Maybe I'm wrong.

Good job with this
Is there going to be a continuation, or is it a beginning?

It's not a beginning nor will it have a continuation.
Purposefully unresolved.

And it was supposed to be satire I guess.
Which is like humor with a statement most of the time.
Though some satire is just all boring.
But mine was the humorous kind I guess.

I was really trying out second-person and I wanted the person speaking to you to have a personality.

And I will fix that darn hand paragraph later.

Last edited by soupoftomato (2012-04-19 19:33:24)