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“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.

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