[center][color=gray][sup][sup]Some bbcode may not display correctly on your device.[/sup][/sup][/color][/center][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][indent][color=silver][sup][h2][sub][sub][sub][sub][sub][sub][sub][sub][sub][sub][sub][sub][sub][img]https://i.imgur.com/dQjIHRb.png[/img][/sub][/sub][/sub][/sub][/sub][/sub][/sub][/sub][/sub][/sub][/sub][/sub][/sub][/h2][table=bordered][row][cell][/cell][cell][/cell][/row][row][cell]
[abbr=Theme][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S_2jy_K5jmM][img]https://i.imgur.com/W7UFIeY.jpg[/img][/url][/abbr]
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[center][color=2e2c2c]______________________________________________________________[/color]
[color=2e2c2c]______________________________________________________________[/color]
[color=2e2c2c]______________________________________________________________[/color]
[abbr=Character Sheet][url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5193269][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjM2LmZmZmZmZi5WR2h2YldGeklGUjVjbVZzYkEsLC4w/signoria.regular.png[/img][/url][/abbr]
[color=2e2c2c]__________________[/color][color=gray]... in [color=bca346]Motostoke[/color] at the [color=bca346]Motostoke Stadium[/color][/color][/center]
[/cell][/row][/table][center][color=gray]mentions: [color=bca346]Everyone[/color]      interactions: [/color][/center][/sup]
[/color][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent][h1][/h1]

[color=silver]Thomas had been inside the stadium since before the sun crested the distant mountains. Although not adverse to it, he often took the opportunity to avoid the crowds knowing full well how much time and energy fans were often to take up. Being as it was the day of the ceremony, he had very little of either to spare. His early morning routine on [i]this[/i] day was a little different from his usual. There was still the warm cup of coffee, now inside a favorite thermos of his, accompanying him to his every task. There were the greetings he gave to his Pokemon and the daily check-in with those at the lab and gym. There was the girl to whom he saw to. Then, there were the duties he expected of himself as one of a few leaders on the given day.

Working closely with a florist in the city, he helped to design [i]and[/i] set up the floral decor in the stadium, ensuring that everything transported was handled with care and received enough attention to survive the entirety of the day's events. Colors blossomed in every hue, though muted in the light-less morning hours, and touched the accents, edges and corners of much of the stadium's architecture. It was a welcome change of scenery from the usual steel and brick that Motostoke was known for and also helped to clear some of the metal tinged air that often hung in more crowded cities. Confident the flowers would brighten up festivities once kissed by the sun, Thomas moved on to more menial tasks. He spent what was left of the day's dawn helping to set up tables, clean up trash on the field and put up whatever signage was leftover. When he was satisfied, or more accurately when the staff were on the brink of taking up arms to get him to stop, he finally took his leave to tend to a last errand.

By then, the sun had begun peaking over the ridge in the distance and the cool morning air was being slowly carried away by it's gentle warm push. He tried to relish the last moments of his favorite part of the day; when there was still the ice kiss on the tip of his nose and the air unfolding from his lungs turned to a hot ball of fog with his every breath. The coffee, still warm in his thermos, helped to keep his fantasy and as he came upon a peculiar shop tucked into the corner of a quiet square, he pulled from it one last sip. The [color=a2d39c]"Good morning"[/color] he gave the elderly woman standing in front was hot and tasted of caramel.

She fumbled with her keys and eventually found and pushed a bronze piece into the door. [color=white]"Thomas... would it kill you to care for your jersey on any day other than the day before?"[/color] Her tired, frail voice cracked around the edges of every word. [color=white]"It's still too early to bother me. Pick-ups aren't for another hour."[/color]

[color=a2d39c]"Well, I do appreciate you opening up so early… and just for me but, Nina, I keep telling you you don't have to."[/color]

With a slow twist and a deliberate push, the door cracked open. [color=a2d39c]"If I didn't... you would be up there in your pajamas."[/color] Thomas laughed even as she did not and followed her inside. The shop itself was rather old as well. A room trapped in a year a decade ago and encased in the shell that was Motostoke innovation. Floorboards creaked underfoot and the ceiling hung low, threatening to snag at one of Thomas's stray hairs. The air was stagnant and smelled of an odd mixture of dust and clean linens. The walls were covered in various shelves that held not merchandise but Nina's innumerable tools. Mannequins were dressed in other people's clothes. Clothing racks were drowned in fabric. The window, currently sealed shut, displayed yesterday's fashion, though for what Thomas couldn't tell. She didn't sell. She did however clean and repair and was one of the few who’s skills with their hands were unrivaled. The main floor was also her main workstation. Beyond the counter that cut the room in half was a desk and on it, a track suit and a jersey. Ironed out, patches resewn and colors restored... again.

[color=white]"Not that it matters anyways. These are barely any better than your pjs."[/color] Nina continued to waggle her tongue at him even as her back was turned, moving with an unexpected nimbleness to the other end of the room where his articles were waiting.

[color=a2d39c]"Are you taking care of the sapling I gave you?"[/color]

[color=white]"On the window."[/color]

Thomas turned and with a quick glance, found a potted plant standing defiant between two towering displays. He moved closer for a better inspection and noticed that it had rooted well and that the stem, which had already begun to stretch toward the sky when he'd given it, was now branching and budding. It was indeed in good health and seemed happy. [color=a2d39c]"Wow. It's looking good."[/color]

[color=white]"Unlike you, I take care of my things."[/color]

Thomas furrowed his brow as she straightened out and turned to her again. [color=a2d39c]"I take care of my things."[/color]

[color=white]"Haa-gh."[/color] Her rebuttal more of a grunt than anything Thomas recognized. [color=white]"Clearly..."[/color] Her shriveled thumbs traced the trim of the outfit he'd refused to put on for a year and had left to collect dust stuffed into the corner of a closet. [color=white]"And are you taking care of her?"[/color]

[color=a2d39c]"Yes."[/color]

[color=white]"No. [i]Her.[/i] The uh... other one."[/color] She waved a shaky hand in his general direction signaling at another female dancing along the edges of what he thought she was trying to say. [color=white]"You told me about the uh... fair ski-"[/color]

[color=a2d39c]"Yeah, no Nina. I don't have the time right now. Kind of busy with construction of the lab and training some 'come-ups'."[/color]

The old woman shook her head. By now she had produced a bag and had already begun transferring the tracksuit over to it. The suit itself was first, folded some at the edges to allow it to fit with the jersey placed safely inside. Both were easily secured with the slide of a zipper and a sticker was placed on top. She scribbled something on it before picking up the entire thing and making her way back over to him. [color=white]"Taking care of your things also means taking care of yourself."[/color] She held it out for him to take. [color=white]"Don't forget to save some of that love and attention you give away so freely for Timmy."[/color]

[color=a2d39c]"That's... not my name."[/color]
[h1][/h1]
[center]_________________________[/center]
[h1][/h1]
The roars of the crowd just outside the main doors were loud enough to rouse the Flapple on his shoulder. Having spent almost the entire morning asleep, Thomas was happy to see the small dragon finally blinking it's way into the [i]later[/i] early hours of the day. Thomas's greeting nudge on it's chin was returned with a trill on it's tongue and a long stretch and yawn. [color=a2d39c]"There you are. I hope you're rested and ready for the day, Draco."[/color]

Thomas himself was now as close to prepared as he expected he'd be. His navy tracksuit was zipped up over his jersey, now in pristine condition thanks in no small part to Nina and her handiwork. His hair was up and tied back, Flapple was finally awake and last he checked since he returned, the stadium itself was ready to go. Although a few trainers and spectators had already started to trickle in, opting to ignore the ever growing crowd outside, the staff were nearly complete and were putting the finishing touches on setup. Everything was pretty much ready to go and in time for everyone's arrival.

He could recognize them by their entrances. Even through walls of concrete and steel, Hestia's Charizard's roar was unmistakable. The muted sound of heavy feet slamming into the ground followed by loud cheers signaled the Fire-Type leader's arrival and her voice answering their call was all the confirmation he needed that the rest wouldn't be far behind. Sure enough, the others followed suit. Fiona's particular speak cut through the crowd shortly thereafter, easily recognizable over a sea of shouts and cheers that threatened to drown her out. Then there was the voice of Isla, with an assuredness to her that was admirable but short-lived under the boisterousness shadow of Zeke's arrival. His persona was donned as it usually was in front of cameras and crowds and even if Thomas couldn't hear the man's exact words through closed doors, he understood the gist of what he was saying. It was a short-lived game as he tried to translate some of the mottled warbling language leaking through to him before the cry of a Loudred cut through everything else and effectively shut his musings up. After the crowd swelled with it's entrance and eventually evened out, Thomas picked up Ezran and Malik adding their song to the others. Liam followed shortly after them, his being one of the few that Thomas could clearly visualize as his compliments and flirtations were always rather loud and obvious. Nordrin was there as well, the renowned chef keeping his volume low, however, and just barely discernible from the rest.

Still to arrive it seemed were Joseph, Henrietta and the two other leaders whom Thomas knew the best: Moira and Elijah. He checked the clock on the wall. There was still time.

[color=a2d39c]"They'll be here, Draco... and it's probably time we got out there as well, hm?"[/color] He turned to the dragon on his shoulder who yawned a lazy approval and stretched apple slice wings in preparation. Thomas did the same, pulling his arms behind his back, rolling his neck and taking a deep breath before holding it in his lungs as he went through a final mental check. Floral decorations were done. The stadium was set and prepped and ready. His official outfit was donned for once, though still concealed under his tracksuit which was also cleaned. He'd drunk enough coffee to offset his early morning start and received a wholesome dismissal and reminder from an old lady. And so, with a lung full of air and caffeine in his veins, he exhaled a ball of confidence, poise and carefully scrounged charisma and moved to the doors ready to greet the rest of the world.

[color=white]"T-thomas! Thomas! I'm so sorry to bother you but... it never ends, does it. We've already got a complaint about some new trainer named Timmy leaving his stuff in someone else's locker. There was a bag with a name on it and some rather plain boring clothes inside that we've moved to 'Lost and Found'. I've made up some temporary signs as a reminder. Do you mind putting these up here? I'm putting these ones up at the other end of the stadium."[/color][/color]