User talk:I iz guy

Hi!

AlexFili here, wow, I found someone to talk to on Wikipedia! Cool! :D See you on the forums ;) AlexFili (talk) 11:15, 17 April 2009 (UTC)

That's cool, i'll take a look sometime! —Preceding unsigned comment added by AlexFili (talk • contribs) 16:47, 21 April 2009 (UTC)

I woke up with a start. It was hard to breath, I instantly found myself choking, choking on air. I knew nothing. Not who I was, not where I was, not anything. I had no memories at all. But I had knowledge. I could already tell something was wrong. “587, please stand up,” a loud voice cracked. 587. Now that seemed familiar. Then I knew, I realized, 587 was my name. It always had been. I stood up. I was in a room, all alone. It was well lit, and the walls, floor and ceiling were all the same color. Behind me was a table I had just been on. To either side of that was complex-looking machines, though I did not know their purpose. And on one wall, right in front of me, was a window. People were on the other side. The voice filled the strange room again. “587, please approach the window.” I did. A man on the other side came almost face to face with me. I would have been able to feel his breath, had the thick layer of glass not been there. He took a small silver box from his pocket and pointed it at me. I knew what it was, but not what it did. It was called a camera. For only a split-second, a light flashed across my face. Then the great voice told me, “587, please remain patient, I am now coming in.” I assumed that meant the source of this voice was about to enter the room. So I stood, facing the window, and waited approximately 17 seconds. I heard the same voice again, only this time, it much softer, and only seemed to come from one direction. “587, please turn around and face me.” Again I did as instructed, and found myself facing a man only a few feet away from me. I saw a door behind him closing. The man was a little shorter than me. He had a few fine white- grey hairs on his head. The man had moderate white skin, and no facial hair. He wore a white lab coat, and from what I could tell, he was very happy. However, his voice remained calm. He then said, “587, please examine and identify me. I did as told. My mind jumped ahead of me, and put this man’s voice and appearance together. Without any more thought, and no hesitation, I said, “You are my supervisor.” “You are correct.” I knew my supervisor was my protector, my family. But I did not know his name, and I did not know why I knew him. He turned to open the door, but instead of leaving me, he held the door open. “Let’s go, 587,” he called. I, for the first time ever, sucked in a breath and left the room. Then I found myself in a very long room. A hallway, I believe it was called. On either side of the room, up against the wall, were men in bulky uniforms. I instantly knew they were guards, and their function was to keep the building safe. That’s when I thought about the building. So far, I had only seen two small areas, and I didn’t know how much more there was for me to see. Then I realized that there had to be something outside of this structure. I wondered what it would be like. That’s when my thoughts were interrupted by the supervisor’s voice. “587, you do not know who you are.” He was right. “I assume it would be in your greatest interest to find out.” To tell the truth, I didn’t know if it was important to know who I was, but I figured the supervisor wanted to tell me. “Yes sir,” I said. This will be a lot for you to take in, and I’m not even going to tell you everything, but we will go a little bit at a time. I prepared for anything. “You are Subject Number Five-Hundred and Eighty Seven, the most recent in a series of biological experiments. You are important for several reasons. First, you were born with the mass and size of the average 18- year old person. That was a great feat for this company.” I look down at my hands with a strange feeling. “Also, you are stronger and faster than any normal human. Also, using a stimulation of certain cells in the brain, you already have most of the mathematical, literal, and modern knowledge you shall ever need. Of course no system is perfect, so their may be gaps. And most importantly, you are a prototype, the first of your kind.” “Prototype.” That word stung my mind. Maybe I was just a thing. Maybe I wasn’t real. I didn’t say anything. “That is all,” the man said. The hallway ended with a single door. My supervisor pressed a button and the door opened. All that was inside was a tiny, empty room. “Step inside.” I did, and the man followed me. The door shut us in, and the man pressed a button on the wall. Nothing appeared to happen, but a sensation of falling swept through me. I now knew what was going on. Or should I say, I was programmed to know what was going on. I was in an elevator. The doors opened again, this time revealing a poorly-lit hall. There was only a single guard there. The supervisor lead me to a door, reached into his pocket, removed a card, stuck it into a tiny consol on the wall, and then the door opened. I found my self staring into a plain white room. “This is your room,” The man told me. There was plenty of light. To one side of me, a soft surface intended for sleeping protruded from the wall. To the other, there were several metal drawers and cabinets. I was told that there were clothes in the “storage,” and that the man would be back in an hour. The door shut, and I was alone. I liked it better that way. I opened the first drawer and found a skin- tight black shirt. For the first time, I looked to see what I was wearing. All I had was a loose white t-shirt, and a pair of black sweats. I swapped shirts and opened the second drawer. There was a pair of black jeans, with many pockets. Apparently, my unknown provisonor had a thing for black. I changed pants and turned around. For the first time, I saw myself, in a mirror. I was a tall, white male with jet black hair. It was strange to have to “learn” everything about myself in the first hour of my life. I sighed, because I was again “programmed” to know I was not normal.

The door to my room slid open. A woman I did not recognize entered the room. “Hello 587,” she said with an enthusiastic smile. “I am your care-taker. You can call me Carla.” I could tell of the bat that I would get along well with her. She was about the same height as me, and she had brown hair up is a small bun. She wore a clean white apron. Carla handed me a bowl containing a strange brown substance. My life was getting weirder every minute. “What is this?” I asked. Carla began to laugh at me. “What?” I sort of croaked out. “It’s soup! Food! You eat it!” “Oh…” I murmured. Carla was odiously unclear on the fact I did not know how to live, and I was apparently unclear on the concept of eating. Not wanting to embarrass myself any further, I excused Carla. She smiled again and left. I was now alone in my small room, with something I was supposed to “eat” called “soup.” I paced around, every now and the looking at the bowl. I got down on my knees to examine it, not knowing what to expect. What happened next is very hard to describe, but the sent of the soup was intoxicating. I got the strangest sensation: to put the soup in my mouth. I simply did that to all the soup in the bowl, and, to my surprise, I felt strangely satisfied. I was now realizing that some how, I would have to explain the thick liquid’s disappearance, and that would be quite humiliating. I lied down on the soft “sleeping area” and went to sleep. I was exhausted from being born, and in my dreams I wondered what eating meant. I was woken up again by a familiar face: the supervisor. “Let’s go, 587,” he said. “What are we going to do?” I asked. “Some tests.” That’s all he said. We went to a large door labeled “Biological labs.” The supervisor once again put a card in another small consol, and we entered a strange room. There were strange and indescribable things and people all over. I was taken to a table. “Lie down,” I was ordered by a masked scientist. I complied, as always. The supervisor watched me through a pair of glasses with anxious eyes. I was strapped to the table, which I thought was weird. A scientist informed me “We are going to run a few tests to ensure that you are working properly.” I already didn’t like this. “Run the nerve stimulation protocol.” the same man ordered. People around him got to work. I lied there on the table, nervous, waiting.

Warren

Nope! My edit on that page was just administrative. Zargulon (talk) 11:06, 23 February 2010 (UTC)

Yo

I am rounding up old admins on the Oddworld wiki for my two year celebration as Red State10. And honestly, you were a lot more fun than the current head admin. So you should come back, mom. -Red State10 — Preceding unsigned comment added by An Account For Editing (talk • contribs) 02:54, 9 April 2011 (UTC)