The Memory Centre was dominating these quarters. It was the first place Newcomers would visit to donate fresh memories and sensations to the poor souls whose receptors had forgotten how they once worked. Advanced technologies and a steady supply of volunteers made this possible. No matter how many sensory organs or consciousness units a body harboured, there was always something for everyone to take or give.
ContinueAuthor: valkyrrever
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It was a cosy nook in the side street, squeezed between a student café and a repair store and filled with memories. You are exploring personal recordings: some in languages you can’t understand, some in colours you can’t see; luckily many are remastered to the endless city Panlingua and you can hear voices from distant times.
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The bar was crowded at this time of the day. Creatures of all shapes were talking, whispering, bubbling, screeching. The air was heavy with noise, movement, and smells. Yet a group of them, feathered humanoids, stood out. Maybe they just looked cleaner than others, maybe lighter with their moves, or maybe because of their voices that warbled above the rest.
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