Post by Professor Oak on May 24, 2024 2:20:15 GMT 11
Շђє ๓єгςђคภՇ ๏Ŧ שєภยรคยг
 | Tucked away on a smog-choked backstreet in Goldenrod City, wedged between a flickering neon-signed noodle bar and the dilapidated remains of a former bicycle store, stands an old curiosity shop. A crooked, tarnished sign bearing the name “The Merchant of Venusaur” hangs precariously above the door, half-obscured by a web of thick cascading ivy. Dust motes dance in shafts of wan sunlight filtering through grime-coated windows. The air inside hangs heavy with the musky scent of old parchment, forgotten spices and mildew. Mountains of tarnished silver trinkets, chipped porcelain figurines, and dusty old books jostle for space on every surface while wicker baskets crammed with ornaments of unknown origin carpet the stone floor. Lush ferns, their fronds brushing the low ceiling, sprout seemingly at random from clay pots and rusty watering cans while vines, thick as a child's arm, snake around the room, creating a verdant labyrinth. Rooted amidst the clutter and seemingly a part of the very fabric of the shop itself resides the shop's silent proprietor – a Venusaur, fat and ancient, her hide dull and verrucose and bearing the scars of countless battles. Each of her gnarled legs are as thick as ancient tree trunks while the flower on her back droops with the weight of time, each petal wrinkled and faded, their edges tinged with shades of brown and grey. The air around her carries a pungent odour of decay that speaks to her advanced age. But beneath the layer of dust and weariness, her eyes shine with an undeniable intelligence that has witnessed the passage of time and the loss of a dear companion. A glimmer of understanding passes through her gaze as you speak your needs. With a languid grace that belies her bulk, she unfurls a thick, prehensile vine. It snakes its way through the labyrinthine clutter, brushing aside a stack of dusty maps before emerging triumphantly wrapped around an ornate gold and silver Pokéball. Her weary eyes seem to hold a flicker of something – a memory, a pang of loss. Perhaps she wasn't just selling trinkets, she was parting with cherished mementos of a beloved trainer, her owner, forever lost to time. |
[PTabbedContent]
[PTab=Pokémon ]
Tentacool
Name: [choose]
Gender: [choose]
Level: 8
OT: Professor Oak
Moves: Poison Sting, Water Gun, Acid, Wrap
Ability: Clear Body or Liquid Ooze
Nature/Personality: [choose]
Price: 1500
[/PTab{tab-hover-background-color:#135369; tab-selected-background-color:#135369;}]
[PTab=Items ]
TM76: STEALTH ROCK x1Price: 5000
TM228: HEAVY SLAM x1Price 3500
[/PTabbedContent={background-color:#2c5b13;}]
