| Модератор 0
- 21.11.2018 - 23:59
|
Раз вы все здесь тусуетесь до сих пор, то погрузимся в антиутопию. Будущее. 3056 год. В мире будущего наложено вето на старость. Люди вечно молоды. Сходно с матрицей из углерода сознания людей способны скачивать и загружать вновь. Запрет на клонирование упразднен. Тела выращивают подобно спелым грушам: без интеллекта, без осознания собственного Я. Классовое неравенство сохранилось. Стоимость на тела сильно разнится. Чтобы купить новое обычное молодое тело вам необходимо выложить около миллиона рублей, чтобы стать владельцем идеального по всем параметрам модельного тела, как и сегодня при покупке машины высокого класса, вам придется отсчитать более крупную сумму 3-6 миллионов рублей. И выше. То есть молодость и красота приобрели товарно-рыночные отношения. Людям, у которых вообще нет средств, государство предоставляет молодое тело за счет казны. Нарочито некрасивое, чтобы сохранять экономическую планку бизнеса и конкурентную способность. 1. Будете ли вы стремиться к более эстетичным и дорогим телам, например, жить в вечных кредитах, или вас устроит жить в обычном теле и не прыгать выше своей головы? 2. Какое бы вы тело выбрали? Можно фотки из инета.     | |
| 121
- 23.11.2018 - 20:58
| 123-Имя >прямо тост сказала) секс на полнолуние это хорошо считается) | |
| 122
- 23.11.2018 - 21:15
|
She woke in a blizzard, or such was her first impression. Above her, a perfect whiteness, snow on snow. She was tucked up in snow, pillowed in snow. The blankness was sickening. It seemed to fill up her throat and eyes. She raised her hands in front of her face; they smelled of an unfamiliar soap, whose perfume was harsh. Now she began to focus: the walls, the pristine sheets, the medication beside the bed. A hospital. She called out for help. Hours or minutes later, she wasn't sure which, it came, in the form of a nurse who simply said, "You're awake," and went to fetch her superiors. She told them nothing when they came. She had decided in the time between the nurse's disappearance and reappearance with the doctors that this was not a story she was ready to tell. Tomorrow (maybe) she might find the words to convince them of what she'd seen. But today? If she tried to explain, they would stroke her brow and tell her to hush her nonsense, condescend to her and try to persuade her she was hallucinating. If she pressed the point, they'd probably sedate her, which would make matters worse. What she needed was time to think. All of this she'd worked out before they arrived, so that when they asked her what had happened she had her lies ready. It was all a fog, she told them; she could barely remember her own name. It will come back in time, they reassured her, and she replied meekly that she supposed it would. Sleep now, they said, and she told them she'd be happy to do just that, and yawned. They withdrew then. "Oh, yes..." said one of them as he was about to go. "I forgot..." He brought Frank's box from his pocket. "You were holding on to this," he said, "when you were found. We had the Devil's own job getting it out of your hand. Does it mean anything to you?" She said it didn't. "The police have looked at it. There was blood on it, you see. Maybe yours. Maybe not." He approached the bed. "Do you want it?" he asked her. Then added, "It has been cleaned." "Yes," she replied. "Yes, please." "It may jog your memory," he told her, and put it down on the bedside table. | |
| Модератор 123
- 23.11.2018 - 21:22
|
125-hxnt2 > ххо, че ты гонишь? *увидела про Близзард, начала читать* Ты мне это прекрати давай | |
Интернет-форум Краснодарского края и Краснодара |
