[attr="class","frlastconttop"]

[attr="class","frlastcontmid"]



He would not allow the Politoed to gain distance.[break][break]

The moment Perish Song was activated, both Bailey and her pokemon knew what kind of fight this would be—a fight where neither could relent. The green toad used hydro pump to create distance, but Kapow had something to close it.[break][break]

Dragon's Dance; he would be clipped by the hydro pump just so he could chase, refusing to offer his opponent a chance to breathe.[break][break]

“He's like Bumbo! Watch his feet!” The Darmanitan that she owned used a similar style of movement—Kapow let that advice register as he closed in, letting his enhanced speed and strength speak for him.[break][break]

He noticed the change in the song, subtle but present, as he lunged and tried to lodge his fist into the pokemon's open maw; sky uppercut.

[attr="class","frlastconttag2"]

[attr="class","frlastconttop"]

[attr="class","frlastcontmid"]



This was an actual waste of her fucking time.[break][break]

That was her thought the moment the Togepi walked onto the battle field. Though Bailey does not vocalize such a complaint, there was a shift in her gaze as something hostile brewed. “Well, you were right. This was simple.”[break][break]

“Time to wrap this up.” and the thought of having to defeat what had once been her own starter soured on her tongue as an insult that Cait Alfric had no idea she had made.[break][break]

Fuck it. Vlad was summoned back from his capsule. If an opponent was cast out onto the field than they were worthy.[break][break]

Safeguard only protected against status ailments, not actual poison attacks.[break][break]

“Vlad. Cross Poison,” because even he had a split moment of doubt after looking at the small egg-pokemon.[break][break]

And Cait would never know what had dwelt in Bailey's third capsule, because bringing her Aggron out for a battle like this would just be risking the small pokemon's life—there was no way it could put up a fight.

[attr="class","frlastconttag2"]

[attr="class","frlastconttop"]

[attr="class","frlastcontmid"]



Bailey was not trying to inspire—that whole speech had been Emboar wash from beginning to end. If it was laced with truth, it was only because she was rambling from start to finish just to cover for her Crobat.[break][break]

Vlad would emerge from the smoke, landing atop her shoulder to playfully chomp the top of her head. She does not act fazed as the haze would fall to the wayside as this battle entered into its crux. “Bailey Cooper. Forget about that rambling, it was just my way of being an ass. Vlad flaps his wings real loud when he'd closing in on something. I needed to make sure he got the drop.”[break][break]

And if there was wisdom in what Bailey said, it was not something that she acknowledged or even cared about. The gym leader could pick it up if she wanted or not—it didn't really matter to the Sergeant. People had their own tricks and methods. If the grass gym leader wanted to stick to this way of battling, then that was her own business.[break][break]

Bailey just wondered how well it would pan out beyond these gym walls—did this kid battle like this all the time? In a world where people could easily exploit her? Whatever. It probably wasn't the case.[break][break]

No skin off her back—she was just here for a badge.[break][break]

“Let's see whatcha got,” Bailey would fetch her third capsule and withdraw her Crobat.. but would not let out her third, choosing to wait and see.

[attr="class","frlastconttag2"]

[attr="class","frlastconttop"]

[attr="class","frlastcontmid"]



“Aren't you nineteen? Wait, shit. Probably twenty now, huh?” It was hard to keep track. [break][break]

“Well, personally, I miss being called a kid. Now people look at me like I'm supposed to know what the fuck I'm doing. Wish I could jump back to your shoes. You can pick up anything right now and just run with it—that's the freedom that you lose when you get to my age. All in four years, can you believe that?” It was some bullshit.[break][break]

A test. “Yeah, yeah. I know what it is,” and Bailey Cooper would circle the perimeter of the battle arena, feeling like a pyroar that was pacing in its cage. [break][break]

“I'm guessing you have this tailored for beginners—gives you the chance to practice and gives them a chance to cement the basics. The no switch-out rule will force them to commit to their mistakes to learn from 'em. I like the idea. Most gym leaders just wanna teach and see if someone has what it takes,” and her voice seemed to grow in its conviction, like she were one of the pompous council members giving a speech.[break][break]

But, she doesn't give speeches. “But, you see, I got a chance to flip this on its head. There's always room for improvement, but I know my ways and I'm too set to really change them—when I pick up a new trick, it's because I gotta think on my feet. You? You're more like a sponge.”[break][break]

Crobat lurked in the dark.[break][break]

“So, let's call this my test, just to humor me. Not literally, of course.” Cait cannot see it, but Bailey raised both hands to express no offense. [break][break]

“This is just a chance to show you a few things. The underhanded tricks that the tutors won't teach you. The actual shit that people do when they battle and they got money on the line and a bet that they wanna cash in on—the shit that even FERNANDO SILPH won't teach you, because he'll never let his tricks be known. Fuck, I even got a few of my own—the nasty shit that I dreamed up when Rocket put my partner in the fucking ground.”[break][break]

Her tone was strong but not serious—it was spoken with volume so it could be heard, not stressed. She had no urgency.[break][break]

Another shot. Another miss—or was it? “It's mean and it's nasty, but we got the benefit of regulated battles. Have you seen pokemon fights in nature? They'll kill one another, if they're given the chance.” It was a truth. “We tend to forget what pokemon is short for—they're called pocket monsters for a reason.”[break][break]

A breath, but she does not give time for the room to breathe.[break][break]

“That's how I learned to train 'em—by watching how they actual do shit without anyone to hold their hand. You let them run their course and play to their strengths, but they know what they're doing better than we ever will, because at the end of the day...” The slightest ting would have been heard had Bailey not taken the time to keep speaking. She talked over the sound of her poison-flyer being clipped by the attack, just at the lower wing.[break][break]

He kept himself from being blinded only because he diverted his gaze.[break][break]

“When you tell 'em to punch, they're the ones punching. We're just supposed to come up with the flare to make sure that happens. You can't just tell 'em, because everyone in the room will see it coming. In an actual fight, you need surprise. Let them punch without being told, because they'll feel the flow better than we ever will.”[break][break]

Vlad the Crobat would fly through the damage he sustained—it had not done as much damage with metal sound nullified, and he refused to scream. He knew pain. Bailey knew pain. They both had a tolerance for not letting it show.[break][break]

“Here's an example: if someone's talking your ear off and trying to waste your fucking time, it's because they're trying to talk over the sound of my Crobat flying in close and using Air Slash for the fifteenth fucking time.”[break][break]

Fucking bamboozled. The haze would distort and part to the wayside as strong gusts of air torn it asunder—another close range blast to try and seal the deal.

[attr="class","frlastconttag2"]

[attr="class","frlastconttop"]

[attr="class","frlastcontmid"]



“She's persistent,” Bailey would mutter under her breath, having heard metal sound shouted for the past two rounds of combat. It was clear what Cait Alfric was trying to do—stalling was a strategy that the Sergeant knew very well, but this was all wrong.[break][break]

There was no such thing as a courtesy hit. The gym leader could keep repeating these tactics; but, it would continue like this, because she had thought the typing of her pokemon would be enough to secure victory.[break][break]

A stalling match was supposed to be more than this—where were the moves intended to disable? The status afflictions? The defensive moves? An effective staller would seek to eliminate options that their opponent could utilize. It was intended to present the enemy with a wall that would seem impossible to climb, because each option was slowly being eliminated.[break][break]

Thus far, Cait seemed to be banking on Crobat's limited moveset as a method of victory. Without poison, this would be drawn out and ugly, but it would not mean it was hopeless.[break][break]

Far from it—the girl should have banked on a pokemon with an electric move.[break][break]

Confusion Ray had finally struck.[break][break]

First, this gym leader stuck with straight forward attacks with her Granbull that were easy to predict. Now, it was the same story. It was the type of artificial chunkiness that came from a trainer that had to dictate every move to their pokemon—the pauses, the transitions, that were all easy to exploit.[break][break]

When Cait shouted her move, they could all hear it.[break][break]

SILAS BLACKWELL used to whistle. FERNANDO SILPH would stand back and watch. These were the ways that these trainers carried themselves into battle.[break][break]

Bailey Cooper had her own code words—her own moments of silence—and other indirect ways of dictating her commands, because that was what experienced trainers used.[break][break]

Crobat had his own tactics, similar to her Darmanitan, that allowed him to shine without constant supervision. “You're being too straight-forward,” and Bailey's violet gaze would almost seem to reflect Cait's own as they cut through the dark. [break][break]

Violet like violence.[break][break]

“I've heard good things about you, kid. I've been told that you got a talent for this,” but the inexperience was still there for Bailey to see. “But we're playing a different kind of game.”[break][break]

The victory star ached—her hand twisted into the fabric of her shirt, right at the collar bone, where the V upon her chest burned. It was only for a moment. It was only a reminder.[break][break]

More haze. The black fog would billow from the growing cloud, crawling and oozing itself forward.[break][break]

The Mirror Shot would fall into the dark, letting the tide turn. Slowly, but surely, Bailey Cooper had taken back control.

[attr="class","frlastconttag2"]

[attr="class","frlastconttop"]

[attr="class","frlastcontmid"]

She lost her seriousness the moment he laughed—the act was ruined as Bailey Cooper snickered, lightly pounding her fist against the table. It had been awhile since she had been around someone to banter with, and if she were sober, she would have never expected it to be him of all people.[break][break]

Alcohol could work wonders. All of the tension that usually hung to their conversations was gone, and all it took was a few drinks.[break][break]

“Sure, just not while I'm getting shitfaced. How do you think I got banned from here?” Amelia, in the distance, shot a look that pleaded with neither of them to try it.[break][break]

The Sergeant doesn't have the chance to see the smile die from his face, because she's trying to see the bottom of her glass as she takes another gulp. The action of tilting her head would bring on a whole new wave of vertigo, but she could live with it.[break][break]

Her glass would only touch the table when it was empty. Like an ekans, she would lazily lean herself against the table, head in her hand, as she took a moment to humor his question.[break][break]

For a moment, she almost looked contemplative. Were there good battlers in Hoenn, as far as she knew? “Pfft—” and then the moment is gone, because she was unable to take it seriously. “Fuck no.”[break][break]

And she would erupt in laughter—the kind that was not too loud, but just strong enough to make her ribs ache.

[attr="class","frlastconttag2"]

[attr="class","frlastconttop"]

[attr="class","frlastcontmid"]



The Salac Berries were ready.[break][break]

Bailey Cooper took her time, gently plucking each berry from their respective tree. The fruits were ripe, but the branches and the stock of the trees were brittle; decayed. It was the reason why Salac Berries were valued—as a wild species, they were not often sustainable.[break][break]

One crop yield was all they could offer.[break][break]

The berries were thrown into the small wicket basket by her feet—her hands were gloved just to keep the spikes from piercing the skin.[break][break]

“Anyway, yeah sure... I don't mind letting your Venusaur chill out here for awhile. It'd be good for the crops,” and she glanced over her shoulder to the original landowner. An older man who had been more than eager to sell the land for cheap. His head of white hair was impossible to miss.[break][break]

For some reason, his smile always unnerved her.[break][break]

“Have a good afternoon.” Neighbors had to be cordial—he also owned the lot of land adjacent to her. The two spare the small talk and wrap up their goodbyes...and she glanced to the napping Venusaur, noting that the grass-type had seen her fair share of fights.[break][break]

It was just her paranoia, she rationalized, as she prepared to plant her next batch of berries.

[attr="class","frlastconttag2"]