Post by futurepredator on Feb 7, 2011 16:36:09 GMT -5
Normal sized house, which is kept moderately clean by Ben, who lives alone most of the time. He keeps exotic reptiles on funky shelves in his front room, which also housed a 16' inch plasma, and a variety of jungle plants from South America. He was a small personal gym, a punch bag, for boxing practice, and numerous fashionable furniture. His house is especially funky, with pointless, cool, things dotted about the place. Like a giant plasma ball for instance, which sits in his front room. His bedroom is especially cool, with lots of mirrors, to match Ben's vain attitude. His bed is too big for him, and he owns a suspicious amount of designer clothes in his wardrobe, along with a sceptical amount of GQ toiletries in his bathroom.
************************************************
Ben groaned, as his alarm blared into his hapless ear drums. He rolled onto his back, and dazed clumsily at the ceiling of his bedroom. Forcefully getting up into a sitting position, he wiped the sleep of his eyes, and scuffed his hair about, before getting out of bed and looking in the mirror, admiring his muscles. Treading into the bathroom, he sprayed his toiletries all over, overdoing them so the gas tinged his tastebuds, and hopped in the shower.
Whilst singing quietly to himself in the shower, he reflected on the day ahead of him.
Arrive at the ARC, have a coffee, meeting in Rec. Room, business as usual from then on, lunch break, hair appointment, back to ARC, security checks, gym workout, go home.
He grinned as the hot water splashed onto his refreshed face, he couldn't believe how lucky he was to have a job as cool as an ARC field operative.
Of course, it had its downs, like fatality, for example, most notably the tragic death of his brother, which he had never really got over.
With great power comes great responsibility, he recalled a famous quote from the Spiderman franchise. He loved good ol' Spidey, along with other MARVEL movies, but he had never brought himself to watch the second one, the octopus scared him.
All octopuses scared him.
Shuddering, he applied shampoo and soap to his hair and body, before turning the shower down and stepping out of the cubicle. Wrapping a towel around his body, he began to dry his hair immaculately, which included adding handfuls of gel to his brown locks, and wetting his mob to make it rest in the ideal position.
He then walked back into his room, and proceeded to get changed, putting on a Jack Wills top, underneath a classic Abercrombie & Fitch sweatshirt, before struggling into his Hollister Chino's, and popping on a classic Superdry Trilby.
Heading downstairs, he decided to practice some boxing in front of the plasma, before heading off to the ARC.
Where he would fight dinosaurs...
He smirked at the hilarity of his job, and began to viciously strike his punching bag with his fist, which was know encased in a expensive boxing glove.
Soon Ben had worked up a sweat, but somehow his hair had stayed in place perfectly. It was difficult in casual clothing, so he decided to stop and have some breakfast.
Turning away from Sky Sports News on the TV, and a interview concerning Fernando Torres and his move to Chelsea, he headed into he kitchen, and rustled up a classic melted cheese on toast dish. Complete with a glug of hydrating water, and a fresh, juicy apple.
After wolfing down his breakfast, he washed up, picked up his security tag, a complex device which fitted around your wrist, picked up his car keys, and headed out the door.
Another day at the office.
************************************************
Ben groaned, as his alarm blared into his hapless ear drums. He rolled onto his back, and dazed clumsily at the ceiling of his bedroom. Forcefully getting up into a sitting position, he wiped the sleep of his eyes, and scuffed his hair about, before getting out of bed and looking in the mirror, admiring his muscles. Treading into the bathroom, he sprayed his toiletries all over, overdoing them so the gas tinged his tastebuds, and hopped in the shower.
Whilst singing quietly to himself in the shower, he reflected on the day ahead of him.
Arrive at the ARC, have a coffee, meeting in Rec. Room, business as usual from then on, lunch break, hair appointment, back to ARC, security checks, gym workout, go home.
He grinned as the hot water splashed onto his refreshed face, he couldn't believe how lucky he was to have a job as cool as an ARC field operative.
Of course, it had its downs, like fatality, for example, most notably the tragic death of his brother, which he had never really got over.
With great power comes great responsibility, he recalled a famous quote from the Spiderman franchise. He loved good ol' Spidey, along with other MARVEL movies, but he had never brought himself to watch the second one, the octopus scared him.
All octopuses scared him.
Shuddering, he applied shampoo and soap to his hair and body, before turning the shower down and stepping out of the cubicle. Wrapping a towel around his body, he began to dry his hair immaculately, which included adding handfuls of gel to his brown locks, and wetting his mob to make it rest in the ideal position.
He then walked back into his room, and proceeded to get changed, putting on a Jack Wills top, underneath a classic Abercrombie & Fitch sweatshirt, before struggling into his Hollister Chino's, and popping on a classic Superdry Trilby.
Heading downstairs, he decided to practice some boxing in front of the plasma, before heading off to the ARC.
Where he would fight dinosaurs...
He smirked at the hilarity of his job, and began to viciously strike his punching bag with his fist, which was know encased in a expensive boxing glove.
Soon Ben had worked up a sweat, but somehow his hair had stayed in place perfectly. It was difficult in casual clothing, so he decided to stop and have some breakfast.
Turning away from Sky Sports News on the TV, and a interview concerning Fernando Torres and his move to Chelsea, he headed into he kitchen, and rustled up a classic melted cheese on toast dish. Complete with a glug of hydrating water, and a fresh, juicy apple.
After wolfing down his breakfast, he washed up, picked up his security tag, a complex device which fitted around your wrist, picked up his car keys, and headed out the door.
Another day at the office.
