& 3 posts
Post by Azalea Bloodroot on Dec 7, 2019 21:55:13 GMT
[attr="class","azalea"]The Rustboro City Gym was one of the largest buildings in the city, and one may have mistaken it for some sort of factory if it were not for the large neon-lit Pokémon League emblems hanging on each side of the building. On the roof rested five smoke stacks that constantly bellowed out clean air, as the purpose of the building was to actually purify the toxins emitted from the other companies in the area. Upon approaching this impressive building, the challenger would be greeted by a pair of sliding glass doors that would open automatically as soon as they came close enough.
What happened behind those doors was a sterile waiting area, one similar to a hospital, only outfitted with hundreds of seats and widescreen televisions on every wall. In the center was the reception area, a circular desk where a single League official stood behind. He was clearly bored, as he was lost in a magazine over doing any sort of work when the challenger arrived. After that, the young, hardly shaven official would begin handing forms over to be signed, then reading off the rules of the challenge.
"This will be a three on one single elimination match against Leader Azalea. You and your Pokémon may be subject to extremely toxic gases. We advise you to keep the equipment given to you on at all times after leaving the waiting area. This equipment is to be returned immediately after your match concludes." The official let out a sigh, combing his shaggy hair back with his hand. Reading this stuff was always such a drag. "Do you understand and agree to these terms? If so, please sign, and proceed to the locker room to change into your hazmat equipment." He reached into a drawer and obtained a small key with a label reading the number forty-two, indicating which locker the challenger would have to go to. He handed it over along with the paperwork, which he would take at this point if signed properly. "Make sure you read the directions, dude, you'll be sick for weeks if you don't." The official issued as a final warning, before sinking back into his leisurely readings.
After the challenger had changed, all they would need to do was proceed to the gym doors to the right of the reception area and to the left of the locker room. After entering the first door, it would quickly close and lock behind the challenger, then another steel hatch coming down to create an air-tight seal. A second door similar to the first was next, which would complete a similar procedure once passed through.
After that laid the Gym itself - which was fairly plain all things considered. It was a steel-crafted room with a simple purple turd battlefield, no obstacles or anything like that. The walls were lined with dozens and dozens of vents, all which would begin to emit a thin faintly-visible violet gas, filling the room in an instant. Through the thin fog, another set of doors opened, revealing Azalea herself. Almost insanely so, she didn't wear a hazmat suit, instead only wearing a flimsy respirator mask to help her breathe.
"This is your last chance to quit."
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[newclass=.azalea b]color:#a76eaf;font:11px Permanent Marker;[/newclass]
[Googlefont="Permanent Marker"]
What happened behind those doors was a sterile waiting area, one similar to a hospital, only outfitted with hundreds of seats and widescreen televisions on every wall. In the center was the reception area, a circular desk where a single League official stood behind. He was clearly bored, as he was lost in a magazine over doing any sort of work when the challenger arrived. After that, the young, hardly shaven official would begin handing forms over to be signed, then reading off the rules of the challenge.
"This will be a three on one single elimination match against Leader Azalea. You and your Pokémon may be subject to extremely toxic gases. We advise you to keep the equipment given to you on at all times after leaving the waiting area. This equipment is to be returned immediately after your match concludes." The official let out a sigh, combing his shaggy hair back with his hand. Reading this stuff was always such a drag. "Do you understand and agree to these terms? If so, please sign, and proceed to the locker room to change into your hazmat equipment." He reached into a drawer and obtained a small key with a label reading the number forty-two, indicating which locker the challenger would have to go to. He handed it over along with the paperwork, which he would take at this point if signed properly. "Make sure you read the directions, dude, you'll be sick for weeks if you don't." The official issued as a final warning, before sinking back into his leisurely readings.
After the challenger had changed, all they would need to do was proceed to the gym doors to the right of the reception area and to the left of the locker room. After entering the first door, it would quickly close and lock behind the challenger, then another steel hatch coming down to create an air-tight seal. A second door similar to the first was next, which would complete a similar procedure once passed through.
After that laid the Gym itself - which was fairly plain all things considered. It was a steel-crafted room with a simple purple turd battlefield, no obstacles or anything like that. The walls were lined with dozens and dozens of vents, all which would begin to emit a thin faintly-visible violet gas, filling the room in an instant. Through the thin fog, another set of doors opened, revealing Azalea herself. Almost insanely so, she didn't wear a hazmat suit, instead only wearing a flimsy respirator mask to help her breathe.
"This is your last chance to quit."
[newclass=.azalea]width:350px;font-variant:normal;font-weight:normal;font-size:10px;line-height:normal;font-family:Calibri;text-align:justify;margin-top:35px;padding:40px;border;[/newclass]
[newclass=.azalea b]color:#a76eaf;font:11px Permanent Marker;[/newclass]
[Googlefont="Permanent Marker"]
