Realgam Tower (Resort Area) | Late morning
A soft groan floated through the thick, hot air of the desert resort. There was nothing moving in the area, the large, open room stale as old bread. Along one curved wall was a row of tall machines, each the length of a washing machine, while the height that of an old man. Most of them were covered in dirt from the growing year of misuse, very little tainted the luxurious room save for simple lack of upkeep. Though the smell of blood was apparent, as it always was, it was the most peaceful place in the entire place.
That was, until the loud, unpleasant snore ripped through the air.
Beside the slot machines, right where the line of them ended, was a pair of soft chairs, right beside each other. And draped over said chairs was the culprit guilty for the ugly sound. His head hung off of one side, perfectly up-side-down as jaws hung open with slack, the rest of his body draped lazily over the old furniture like ink. His long, thick body found no discomfort in the knot-like position. Quite the contrary, he found it absolutely magical, and thus the sleeping like a dead baby. His tail tip twitched, a carry over from a dream, as his open lips tensed and relaxed, as if speaking in his sleep.
But without warning, his eyes snapped open, his body reacting with a violent jerk... but due to his position, only ended up tightening his grip on his own tail and he grunted from the unexpected discomfort. Slowly lifting his head, the Dragonair's eyes blinked away sleep as he stared up at the tall ceiling, studying a hanging chandelier. "Some party last night," he commented in a monotone to himself. Of course there had been no party. Quite the contrary, it had been the easiest rest he had gotten in months. Not a single disturbance or attack. Not dying was always nice.
With greater care, Stark slowly pulled his tail back, dislodging it from between is twisted torso and freeing it, inevitably loosening up the rest of his body with a sigh. Whipping his neck over to see the world from the correct perspective, Stark crawled slowly off of his bed to the ground, his chin just above the ground as he slithered like a snake on the dusty floor. Without the conscious decision, the Dragionair lifted his tail tip and flicked it towards one of the machines, sending out the sharp jolt of electricity with a Thunder Wave. The mechanic lit itself up in seconds, dinging in a chirpy manner as it begged the Pokemon to gamble. Smirking, Stark turned around, rearing his head up high on a curved neck.
Waving his tail lazily in front of the slot machine, he eyed it affectionately. "Wouldn't want to disappoint you, now would I?" Gripping the lever with his tail, he pulled it down, the loud rolling of the slots stuttering from years of mistreatment even as the electricity boost it got threatened to fade.