41F: Holding Down the Fort
Yesterday's Eliminations
;359; ;082; ;455; :598: ;432;
That shady Absol gets canned for major violations of the Arcology Island Construction Code. Until it gets caught, Carnivine gets to live on the edge. Finally, some slightly stale moves in the dance contest force Purugly to accept the shame of being thrown out of the game. And the shame of its name.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FORTY-FIRST (DANCE) FLOOR
You are inside the largest tree of the Arcology Island forest. You climb a narrow, wooden spiral staircase and arrive on the upper deck of a two-bedroom, fully furnished tree fort, where a Poké-Rave is just getting into full swing. Why such an event would be going on now, no one can say. Almost makes you forget that the Arcology itself could be blasted into glitchy oblivion any moment now.
In the dead centre of a disco mat, a Ludicolo is busting out the perfect moves to an unfamiliar hit song that you think is called "I Will Servine," when wooden hatches swing open under the lit floor tiles and some remarkably bad dancers invade. It's entertaining to watch a dance party during a Face-Off, because everybody's dancing alone and every so often, if somebody isn't following the moves, they'll get kicked, punched or PoisonPowdered.
You overhear some scattered, casual conversations.
"The night is young," says a Vileplume on your right, very obviously lit up by sunlight. "Yeah, who cares about glitch danger or any of that stuff right now? Let's par-tay!" replies a footloose Leavanny.
Only over to the side of the room -- your side of the room -- is anyone frustrated or grim. A Stoutland in a security uniform sits on your left; from time to time, Pokémon break off from the dance floor to talk to it, some looking like they have major bones to pick.
"Let us back in," a very aggressive-looking partier warns Stoutland. "The Grand Colosseum is on 42F, and the Grand Colosseum is where we're gonna fight."
"Yeah, and the Techno Arcade!" says a nerdier-looking Pokémon. "I've waited to go there all my life!"
"But, but..." says the security guard in a gravelly voice. "But they're on lockdown! Ummm... oh, for Arceus' sake... here." Stoutland pulls out a phone and calls another officer, answering in short, tired syllables. "Hi. Yeah. Yup. Yeah. Really? Good. Fine. Bye."
"Yeah, sure," Stoutland answers the tough customers. "We can go back in on 42F. It looks like they caught the guy who-- OH MY ARCEUS!!"
The entire dance floor hears the grim security guard cry out, in a squealing voice that sounds like a girl's. Everyone explodes with laughter. You look down and discover the source of the shout.
The Arcology medallion, the ancient black relic etched with leaf patterns and circulating around the island since the world's creation, lies on the floor in front of Stoutland, someone almost having shattered it with one fell disco swoop. Good thing it picked it up, eh? That would have been a lame way to end the history of Face-Offs.
Best dancer: ;272; :558: ;124; ;354; ;416; ;164;
Best dancer: :586: ;277; ;286; ;442; ;253; ;036;
Most spirited: ;045; ;435; ;291; ;221; :496: :547: :594:
Least nervous: :542: ;310; :545: ;119; :561: ;297;
Least suspicious: :508: :632: :510: ;319; ;326; ;356; ;317;
Well, vote now!
Yesterday's Eliminations
;359; ;082; ;455; :598: ;432;
That shady Absol gets canned for major violations of the Arcology Island Construction Code. Until it gets caught, Carnivine gets to live on the edge. Finally, some slightly stale moves in the dance contest force Purugly to accept the shame of being thrown out of the game. And the shame of its name.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FORTY-FIRST (DANCE) FLOOR
You are inside the largest tree of the Arcology Island forest. You climb a narrow, wooden spiral staircase and arrive on the upper deck of a two-bedroom, fully furnished tree fort, where a Poké-Rave is just getting into full swing. Why such an event would be going on now, no one can say. Almost makes you forget that the Arcology itself could be blasted into glitchy oblivion any moment now.
In the dead centre of a disco mat, a Ludicolo is busting out the perfect moves to an unfamiliar hit song that you think is called "I Will Servine," when wooden hatches swing open under the lit floor tiles and some remarkably bad dancers invade. It's entertaining to watch a dance party during a Face-Off, because everybody's dancing alone and every so often, if somebody isn't following the moves, they'll get kicked, punched or PoisonPowdered.
You overhear some scattered, casual conversations.
"The night is young," says a Vileplume on your right, very obviously lit up by sunlight. "Yeah, who cares about glitch danger or any of that stuff right now? Let's par-tay!" replies a footloose Leavanny.
Only over to the side of the room -- your side of the room -- is anyone frustrated or grim. A Stoutland in a security uniform sits on your left; from time to time, Pokémon break off from the dance floor to talk to it, some looking like they have major bones to pick.
"Let us back in," a very aggressive-looking partier warns Stoutland. "The Grand Colosseum is on 42F, and the Grand Colosseum is where we're gonna fight."
"Yeah, and the Techno Arcade!" says a nerdier-looking Pokémon. "I've waited to go there all my life!"
"But, but..." says the security guard in a gravelly voice. "But they're on lockdown! Ummm... oh, for Arceus' sake... here." Stoutland pulls out a phone and calls another officer, answering in short, tired syllables. "Hi. Yeah. Yup. Yeah. Really? Good. Fine. Bye."
"Yeah, sure," Stoutland answers the tough customers. "We can go back in on 42F. It looks like they caught the guy who-- OH MY ARCEUS!!"
The entire dance floor hears the grim security guard cry out, in a squealing voice that sounds like a girl's. Everyone explodes with laughter. You look down and discover the source of the shout.
The Arcology medallion, the ancient black relic etched with leaf patterns and circulating around the island since the world's creation, lies on the floor in front of Stoutland, someone almost having shattered it with one fell disco swoop. Good thing it picked it up, eh? That would have been a lame way to end the history of Face-Offs.
Best dancer: ;272; :558: ;124; ;354; ;416; ;164;
Best dancer: :586: ;277; ;286; ;442; ;253; ;036;
Most spirited: ;045; ;435; ;291; ;221; :496: :547: :594:
Least nervous: :542: ;310; :545: ;119; :561: ;297;
Least suspicious: :508: :632: :510: ;319; ;326; ;356; ;317;
Well, vote now!