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Writing Second pair of eyes [PG-L]


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[SIZE=1]A little bit of crit would be welcome on this. I'm gonna keep going if people like it too.

The vast room was a warm shade of white, the illumination gently stroking even the deepest corners and recesses. Spaced at perfectly equal intervals were small consoles, no larger than the palm of a newborn?s hand, inlaid into the ground. They were cube-ish in shape, and had very delicate motion sensors. If one were to walk past one of these cubes, it would rise up out of the ground, and project an ethereal display and keyboard, hovering in midair.

?Christ?? The word broke the tomb-like silence within the white infinity, and echoed for a bit. The man who had spoke now had waxing eyes, staring dumbfounded at all the cubes in perfect ranks and files.

?Told you so. Come with me, Patterson. You?ve come this far, may as well go all the way.? He was nonchalant, staring in the same direction as the other man. There was a short pause in their ?conversation.?

But? but, sir,? Patterson stumbled on the words, trying to condense his thoughts into sound waves. For a moment, he failed. ?Why?? How?? This isn?t some Evil Empire, right? Right?? He began to panic.

He stared at Patterson impatiently, waiting for his turn to speak. Instead, Patterson muttered sentences equally as incoherent as his fragmented thoughts. It was a miracle in and of itself that he managed to vocalize more sound, let alone words.

?? I ? don?t??

?Be thankful I?m showing. Now, follow me closely or we?ll be found out.?
He walked briskly down the endless aisle of cubical consoles, with Patterson bumbling at his heels trying to keep up. As they strode down another path, the cubes, as previously described, rose up expecting to be used. However, once the two men had past, they cube would set itself back into the ground.

?Take a breath. You look a horrid wreck,? he said condescendingly. Patterson nodded, trying to slow his gasps and roughly wiped the sweat from his brow. Once he deemed Patterson physically able to take the news, he began to speak.
?Okay. I?m not authorized to tell you the following information, but here it is.?

He turned to his right, and watched the cube shoot out of the ground. It hovered at chest-height, the conformable projection accompanying the console.
After ?touching? a few commands in, the cube responded by spinning on its axis too fast for the naked eye to discern the exact shape of the object. Seconds later on the holographic display was:

Steven Patterson
Age: 40 years, 191 days, 14 hours, 15 minutes, 2.398 seconds and counting?
Height: 5? 10? 3.5 cm. No further growth. (Touch here for full growth record)
Weight: 210.3 lbs (Touch here for full height record)
Place of Birth: Dallas, Texas (Touch here for further information)
Blood Type: B-
Last Food Eaten: Salmon and Trout, side of pasta. (Touch here for full archive)
Last Date of Intercourse: 9 days, 3 hours, 2 minutes, 19.126 seconds ago and counting? (Touch here for full record of persons having intercourse with PATTERSON, STEVEN)

The list when on further, to a sickening extent, but he did not bother to scroll down further. Patterson had gotten the point.
?Hooker, huh?? He chuckled, rereading the embarrassing information and feeling tempted to see whom else he had had sex with. His propriety got the best of him.

?Shut up. How the hell do you get this?? He took another swipe at his brow, removing what looked to be a gallon of sweat rolling down his forehead.

?Since you?re a good ma??

?Rich,? Patterson corrected matter-of-factly. The man nodded slowly in agreement.

?Yes, uhh,? he took a moment to regain his composure, ?Rich. Since you?re paying well, I?ll tell you.?

?Do I need to sit down for this??

?Judging from your past? queasiness, perhaps so.? Patterson looked around and finally settled for the floor.

?Good. Now, at birth, the government has a compulsory procedure of inserting this,? he held up a microchip the size of a dime, ?inserted into their cerebral cortex. It?s programmed to self-wire itself to the brain?s nerver endings from which it gathers and stores information on you. From pain to what you ate for dinner thirty years ago. Now, this little chip in your brain is always actively transmitting all its gathered data thirty times per second to here.? He motioned broadly with his hand to the soft, vanilla room.

?But this is America! I have rights! What about the Constitution? And the Amendments?!? He ranted loudly, only to be cut off again.

?Those pieces of scrap? Hell, we haven?t used paper for nearly 50 years. Besides, you should know that it?s only for the greater good of society.?[/SIZE]
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Ah, big brother. There's not a lot here to go off of, but so far there are only a few sentences that came off akward. The rest is good, as far as understanding what you mean is concerned. I didn't really like the "evil empire" comment, or how desprately tired Patterson was, while the other was just fine. All in all, good work so far.
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[SIZE=1]Patterson was meant to come off as unsteady, awkward, and unsure of himself. That's why he was sweating and breathing loudly. Thanks for the comments, they're much apprieciated. Could you point out which sentences sounded strange? I'd like to edit them.[/SIZE]
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[I]They were cube-ish in shape,[/I]

[I]and echoed for a bit.[/I]

[I]condense his thoughts into sound waves.[/I]

[I]managed to vocalize more sound, let alone words.[/I]

[I]?Be thankful I?m showing.[/I]

[I]the cubes, as previously described,[/I]

[I]?touching? a few commands in,[/I]

[I]too fast for the naked eye to discern the exact shape of the object.[/I]

[I]From pain to what you ate for dinner[/I]

These are the ones that came off weird, of course that's just my opinion.
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