Post by Ajax Cornwallace on Oct 6, 2017 19:07:21 GMT
The building complex was a mess. Sanctuary was a cornucopia of a technological Mecca, filled with all sorts of wonders and beauties that a lesser mind would find astonishing, with technology so advanced, that years prior, it would seem mindblowing. The conveniences that are doubtless to say available would give many citizens something to look forward to, but no doubt for all that brightness, all the offers comes a price. An expensive price. Wage slavery no doubt was natural for those that work in pursuit of the material rewards, and many have been taken into the allure of this dream, the final precept of becoming a rich, wealthy and retired person, sipping pina colada and taking off to the countryside in their mansions. Sadly (or fortunately), not many were able to afford this dream, which left many in destitute, as well as under the illusion and delusion that they can make this work. It really didn't, not many had that opportunity, the skills nor luck to pull it off, which was probably why Sanctuary reared up its ugly head in one of its less renowned and famed areas. Slums, hovels, and derelict tenament buildings. Suburbs that were long underused and abandoned, in a state of constant disrepair. Crime was rife, but it wasn't magical in nature, no, merely mundane, and perhaps more worthy of more mundane means to solve.
It also meant the place was dirt cheap. Unwanted, and out in the not-so-nice part of town, only criminals and desperate people would take up on the offer. Ajax was neither of those... (not officially charged for a crime anyways). He just took it up because why not? It was cheap, and he could spend that money on worthier things like a nifty new tacky Hawaiian shirt, the red floral kind. He loved those. Sometimes on things like hug-pillows, and at other times, on exercise crap. Sanctuary was sure as Hell a fun place to be in, it has plenty of technological wonders, inferior to some realms and dimensions he had seen, but all the same, it was all part of its rustic charm, or so the void-swordsman had figured.
The apartment building itself hosted Ajax's room in the fourth floor. One of the ambitious projects that were left abandoned, that now, only a sparse few people actually occupy the building. It was not a well-furnished place, with mold growing on the walls (which funnily offered anti-biotic properties), and with many of his crap thrown around, garbage littered the common room. His own private dojo, a place he had allocated some space to, had plenty of man-sized mirrors to surround a person for self-reference, whether to inspect their technique, or to admire themselves.
Ajax was doing the latter. His Hawaiian shirt was unbuttoned to reveal his toned body, as he kept posing in the reflections with his Kriegsmesser sword out, taking selfies of himself. Oh yes, he can definitely dig his defined abdomen and the packs in it. Oh definitely, yes...
Little did the eternally unlucky trouble magnet had known, something big was coming, and something big was coming hard and fast.
And he wasn't talking about his geni--
Ahem, it was ominous, was the point, and he wasn't aware of it.
He snapped another photo of himself with his smartphone, one of the few crap he had made sure to be untraceable, because seriously, privacy was something Ajax took VERY seriously. The rest of his room was likewise proofed against surveillance, and he in himself, is literally in a black hole against surveillance.